Five Hidden Gems in New York

Effort Required: Pronouncing some of the rare, 28-letter-named brews.

The 124 comes from the street address – we haven’t a clue where the Old Rabbit comes from – but what we do know is this bombed out Berlin-esque alehouse hidden below MacDougal Street crams a mighty long beer list into its tiny quarters. The crowd tends to be made up of lots of old school rockers and grungy Greenwich artist-types, though seeing as the brews can trend on the pricier-side, it’s doubtful anyone is coming here with a skinny wallet tucked in their skinny jeans. That’s okay, though, because the several dozen rare Belgian ales and inordinately long-named German bocks waiting behind the bar are so filling, we look at them as beer-and-meals in one. 

Effort Required: Don’t let the teacups fool you!

Speakeasies are so common these days they should be called speakcheesies. At least a lot of them should, except for those few cool spots like The Back Room that pull off a vintage vibe without it feeling forced or full of old fogeys. Only a faded sign for a fake toy company marks the entrance, but inside there’s a swanky Victorian-styled bar where a diverse crowd can grab a chair beneath a framed female nude and sip classic cocktails – all served in teacups in case Federal Prohibition agents raid the place. Boozing is legal now, of course, though patrons have to be at least 25 to come here on Friday and Saturday nights, a rule the owners impose to help foster a more mature vibe conducive to conversation. And maybe to help those of us in our 30s (ahem) feel a little younger. 

Effort Required: Watch out for salsa on your Sean Johns.

Tacos and trendsetters collide at La Esquina, an A-list hotspot secreted away beneath a D-grade (but still downright tasty) greasy Mexican spoon. La Esquina’s secret speakeasy has enjoyed solid business since opening in 2005, so you can expect a big crowd trying to get in. We say “trying” because the host at the hidden doors behind the kitchen all but analyzes would-be guests with one of those airport body scan machines before letting the chosen few in. The always-full hidden room beyond is sparse in décor but not in booze – some 130 varieties of tequila await behind the bar – and the house DJ keeps everyone on their feet with lots of danceable soul and funk.

Effort Required: Resist making jokes about what the tips are for.

It used to be the site of a “massage parlor”, but nowadays Happy Ending is a pretention-free bar that hosts lots of fun theme nights and dance parties. Many vestiges of its former incarnation are still here, including seductive sauna-rooms-turned-lounges, punchbowls filled with condoms, and a ten-foot mirror called “Naked Lady with Swan” that looks exactly like what you probably think it does. We certainly hope the place got a good scrubbing before it officially became a bar, but once we’re locked in the crazy frenzy of the packed dance floor any rumination on cleanliness quickly fades, and last call always seems to come too soon – even if it is at 4am. 

Effort Required: Grant yourself the serenity to accept the things other people call art.

We consider ourselves fairly well-read when it comes to the latest art scene, but that doesn’t mean we don’t think a little booze would make the museum experience a whole lot more interesting. Folks at the Met obviously agree with us, because their Roof Garden Café opens up an adjoining watering hole called the Martini Bar on Friday and Saturday evenings. The venue serves more than just martinis (hey mannnnn, it’s art), so you can sip a nice selection of beer, wine, and cocktails surrounded by rotating exhibits. The frozen margaritas probably won’t help you understand Jeff Koons’ creative impulses any better, but the sunset views over Central Park make this seasonal spot perfect for kicking off a creative date.