Now that Babu Ji has moved near Union Square, its old home in Alphabet City has given way to a new Indian joint. Old Monk, a contemporary Indian soul food restaurant, opens tonight on Avenue B.
Drunk NYU students are ruining the East Village. At least, that’s what a lot of residents and business owners said last night while discussing a zoning plan aimed at preserving the character of the neighborhood.
There are three things that are really difficult to do in Manhattan (in ascending order): maintaining a bar, maintaining a music venue, and maintaining your weirdo energy. Impressively, Berlin, the Avenue A booze/music bunker, has been doing all three for a year now.
To celebrate, the literally underground spot— known for its musically inclined clientele— is throwing a two-night-long party complete with performances by Berlin’s owner and glammy garage rocker Jesse Malin and his friends.
Sure, New York may be caught in the middle of what is disconcertingly being called a “heat dome,” and hot, melted cheese is probably the last thing on your mind as you desperately fan yourself with a free Time Out NY on the Finnish sauna known as the subway. But come on: Melted cheese makes everything better, and if you can’t accept that then perhaps there’s no help for you. Enjoy your limp kelp salad.
Albert Trummer of Apothéke has finally opened his new bar on Avenue C, having dropped the rather hilarious working title of Mixers & Elixirs in favor of Sanatorium, a name that’s true to both the bar’s Habsburgian decor (surgeon’s lamps, anatomy-driven artwork, even an X-Ray lightbox) and its Dionysian philosophy on wellness.
“‘No Lead Belly, No Beatles,'” Grammy-winning singer Tom Chapin said, quoting George Harrison outside of the building at 414 East 10th Street. There were murmurs of approval from the crowd that, despite the freezing cold, gathered out front of this Alphabet City building today to celebrate the unveiling of a commemorative plaque that now hangs on the one-time home of the great folk and blues musician. Through stories and song, musicians, longtime fans, and historians honored Lead Belly on his birthday outside the singer’s old apartment. (That’s right, today wasn’t just David Bowie Day.)
The window for enjoying the spoils of nature shrinks with each passing day. Lest ye forget, winter is coming. Fear not, though, for as sure as there are endless plots prior to George R.R. Martin’s frosty apocalypse, so too does this city hold its own plethora of distractions to occupy these last sun-filled days.
It’s sad to lose longstanding French favorite Casimir, on Avenue B, but local Francophiles needn’t fret because over the past two months Casimir’s owner, Mario Carta, has transformed the space into his new French tapas joint Pardon My French; he says Casimir had a good run of 16 years, and with his business partner Antonin Brune and a new chef he’s ready to introduce the East Village to what he says is a more fresh, modern concept, opening Monday.
An apartment fire in Alphabet City this afternoon left a man in critical condition.
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If a defunct bodega seems an unusual space for a curated art show, how about the wall outside a still-functioning deli? ANON (A Number of Names), the newest unorthodox art venue to materialize on Avenue C, shuns interiors entirely in favor of a door-sized vertical in the heart of Alphabet City.
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