Accept no substitutes. Downtown's original wine and bruschetta bar is far and away the best in its class. Tiny 'Ino, a vital part of Bedford Street's thriving cafA(c) and bar scene, only accommodates about two dozen customers at a time, but therein lies its charm: It's like popping in for a glass of wine in your friend's living room. The bar is the place to sit if you want to marvel at the assemblage of panini and other sandwichlike concoctions in the Lilliputian kitchenatry the bruschetta with asparagus and truffle oilaand benefit from generous pourings of 'ino's excellent selection of wines.
As Morningside Heights continues its relentless march to total gentrification, it's comforting to know that sometimes a bar is just a bar. 1020 is a refreshingly unpretentious dive in a sea of newly opened yuppie hangouts. Don't order a fancy cocktail here; stick to the beer (they have several good choices on tap), or something simple, like a bourbon on the rocks. While you drink, watch the game on the big screen in the back. There's a pool table, too.
No tourists here. Instead, local couples whisper at tables under the glow of urban-chic candelabras. Sinking into a red velvet booth, we opt for a tangy cosmo ($9) and a sweet Grand Marnier nightcap ($8).
Located conveniently next to Irving Plaza, 119 is a decent enough dive bar with all the requisite characteristicsaa dank interior, pool tables, and cock rock on the stereo. It'd be a pretty nondescript place if it was situated further downtown, but within the increasingly upscale and sterile confines of Union Square, it shines like a beacon of gritty realness.
My winsome stick pal Paddy Ward migrated from Galway for love and plays the flute like a splendid, starry sugar bun. Monday nights, we pop over to the 11th Street Bar for Glenfiddich sipped neat and a pint of chocolaty-tasting Victory Hopdevi. Itas a yummy, cozy pussycat of a pub inside. Real Irish brogues without any pseudo-blarney hamminess. Paddy swears Mary Malone and her nine blind illegitimate children would love it here.
Record geeks rejoice! Hi-Fi Bar beware! Now there's a dive called 12"ayes, named after the vinyl format. The space is tiny, but the walls are cutely papered with record covers, and they have DJs.
This unmarked, cavernous little hideaway is done up in cool taupe mod-patterned wallpaper and stucco, with stylish brown leather furniture and a metallic beaded curtain. So it's all the more surprising that 151 is a boisterous, unpretentious space where the bartender sports an unironic AC/DC shirt and air-guitars along with the cock rock that blasts at top volume. It's these kinds of wondrous contrasts that make New York what it is.
The last and oldest original bars in one of the last original neighborhoods in Manhattan.
Purchased by former New Orleans resident and musician Charles Hanson in 2006, the 169 Bar is now taking its metier visually and aurally from that city.
Those searching for gold in New York at 1849 will either find it on both levels, in the name of multiple plasma TVs, or on the ground floor, where customers wrangle with BBQ ribs. Upstairs, patrons can further be entertained by pool and video games.
This Park Slope sports bar appeals to both the stroller set and the rowdy singles crowd, with a family-friendly restaurant in one room and a huge barafeaturing several TVs and 40 beers on tapain the other. So get sloshed on their six-beers-for-nine-dollars special, chat up that honey watching the game, and imagine your future together, bringing the kids to dinner.
Rumor has it, 212 is going out now that 646 is coming in. But who really cares? These guys have 110 vodkas, enough to satisfy the latent Polish grandmother in everybody. This is known as a pickup joint for people with money, so dress yourself up fancy, head here, and find a new beau who can afford to buy you more than a plain slice of pizza.
Mixing Manhattan superclub glamour with Williamsburg artiness, this new club/lounge/gallery/performance space is home to the infamous weekly post-punk Crashin In party, as well as various cultural events and happenings. The large, anonymous brick-walled dancefloor area is balanced out by intimate side niches, a billiard room and a cozy outdoor smoking garden. Three-dollar Budweisers and beautiful peopleaneed I say more?
New York is not much of a beer town. The Brooklyn Brewery rocks, especially its barley wine Monster, but beer is one domain where the city is outshone by upstate. The best beers made in the state are Hennepin and Ommegang, Belgian-style ales brewed in Cooperstown. And the best beer bargain in the five boroughs is to buy them by the case at 21st Street Wholesale Beer in Astoria. They come in big bottles, sealed with a cork, and pack 8.5 percent alcohol. "I'm fucked up over here," a friend said recently after just half a bottle.
With outdoor seating in Manhattan at a premium, the massive roof deck of 230 Fifth makes for an instant hit. Decorated with palm trees and petunias, it gives space-cramped New Yorkers ample room to bask in the warm breeze while pretending to be unimpressed by the improbably close skyline. In fact, the view makes it easy to overlook the questionable musicathink Bryan Adams and Tiffany. Chairs and tables dot the roof, where seated patrons dangle stilettos from manicured toes. Numerous waiters swoop through the crowd toward each table, refilling drinks surprisingly quickly. While the squishy rubber floor covering functions to evenly disperse the crowd's weight, it also cushions the fall of anyone imbibing too many vodka tonics ($12) and beer ($9). Those craving creamsicles should opt for the luscious Golden Dream ($15), made with Cointreau, Galliano, orange juice, and cream. True, 230 Fifth offers more than rooftop blissait includes the downstairs Penthouse, where the purple and aqua decor may confuse patrons into thinking they entered a 1980s movie theater. All the more reason to stick with the roof. After all, it's the closest you will get to the outside of the Empire State Building without scaling it yourself.
This unpretentious bar is a welcome addition to a growing number of theme joints in the area, but loses brownie points for lying to usaturns out it's not open 25 hours after all. Thereas not a lot of seating, so guys and dolls should leave those uncomfortable stilettos behind.
The dingy two-story bar attracts everyone from hipsters to the buttoned-down after-work crew, yet the atmosphere is lively and the musicagenerally rockaupbeat. The multitude of windows makes for excellent people watching, but the bathrooms, however, leave something to be desired. We can live with the scum coating everything and the lack of toilet paperabut for Godas sake, a bar this size needs more than one toilet for the ladies. The bar has no sign, but, duh, itas on the corner of 2nd and Avenue A.
This place offers a variety of inventive soju cocktails. Unfortunately, they load so many mixers into these drinks, you can't tell if you're downing soju, tequila, or Windex. The Red Devil (peach schnapps, soju, triple sec, sloe gin, and OJ; $9) misses a goal with its Robitussin flavor, and the $9 jade martini is as exotic as a Jolly Rancher lozenge. Stick to the traditional cocktails like the soju gimlet ($9) or a simple bottle of straight soju.
A true playa's paradise, Jay-Z's sports lounge is 8,000 square feet of grown-up fun: TVs everywhere, cigar room, V.I.P. lounges with pool tables and video games, and unisex bathrooms. A mixed crowd of after-workers, ballas, artists, and fans come here dressed to be seen as they down specialty drinks like the tropical Blue Yankee (blue kamikaze made with Armadale vodka, Bacardi 151 rum, blue CuraASSao, and lime juice, $9) on one of the sexy white leather couches. Ya feelin' it yet?
Though the bar is ostensibly named for its address, the (huh huh) jokey title is probably the best thing about this unremarkable bridge-and-tunnel hangout.
The small and deep-blue environs of 46 Grand subtly sit in hip-hop splendor without the annoying thug wannabes. And although there's no camera crew in sight, the diversely good-looking lads and lassies mingling to Eve and Alicia Keys's "Gangsta Lovin' " set the mood for pretending you're shooting a video in Soho. I grab one of the few high chairs by the silver-piped candlelit bar and order a dirty martini from the beautiful Asian bartendress with charcoal-smoked eyes. While surveying the crowdaschmoozy fashionista types and guys in Triple Five Soul cavorting on banquettes over bottles of MAPetaI realize, why rely on television, when you can have the real thing?
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for subcategories)
Webster Hall
New York, NY 
Gramercy Tavern
New York, NY 
Lupa
New York, NY 
Pegu Club
New York, NY 
Accept no substitutes. Downtown's original wine and bruschetta bar is far and away the best in its class. Tiny 'Ino, a vital part of Bedford Street's thriving cafA(c) and bar scene, only accommodates about two dozen customers at a time, but therein lies its charm: It's like popping in for a glass of wine in your friend's living room. The bar is the place to sit if you want to marvel at the assemblage of panini and other sandwichlike concoctions in the Lilliputian kitchenatry the bruschetta with asparagus and truffle oilaand benefit from generous pourings of 'ino's excellent selection of wines.
