There’s no place like home.
Especially if that home happens to have a boozy, late-night jazz club locked away in the basement.
Welcome to Silver Lining, a 154-year-old Tribeca residence that’s been transformed by the folks from Little Branch into a dark, brooding, saxophone-filled live music spot, soft-opening tonight.
Of all the great concert venues in New York City... this is the only one with a doorbell. And a drink-slinging bartender capable of incorporating an old-fashioned egg flip into your cocktail of choice.
What you’ll want to do is schedule a house call here the next time you’re in the market for an intimate evening of jazz (the exposed brick bunker only holds about 100). Approach the front door, wipe your feet on the mat (you’d hate to track dirt into someone’s home) and head downstairs through a narrow, chandelier-marked hallway on the left.
Once you reach the basement, you’ll find a long, candlelit room filled with the kind of white-clothed tables that promote close talking. Also, a lacquered bar that’s serving a remixed version of Sasha Petraske’s meticulous Milk & Honey cocktail menu (think Rye Fizz) and a baby grand that’ll attract a nightly gathering of local musicians.
And the occasional unannounced performance of “Chopsticks.”
Especially if that home happens to have a boozy, late-night jazz club locked away in the basement.
Welcome to Silver Lining, a 154-year-old Tribeca residence that’s been transformed by the folks from Little Branch into a dark, brooding, saxophone-filled live music spot, soft-opening tonight.
Of all the great concert venues in New York City... this is the only one with a doorbell. And a drink-slinging bartender capable of incorporating an old-fashioned egg flip into your cocktail of choice.
What you’ll want to do is schedule a house call here the next time you’re in the market for an intimate evening of jazz (the exposed brick bunker only holds about 100). Approach the front door, wipe your feet on the mat (you’d hate to track dirt into someone’s home) and head downstairs through a narrow, chandelier-marked hallway on the left.
Once you reach the basement, you’ll find a long, candlelit room filled with the kind of white-clothed tables that promote close talking. Also, a lacquered bar that’s serving a remixed version of Sasha Petraske’s meticulous Milk & Honey cocktail menu (think Rye Fizz) and a baby grand that’ll attract a nightly gathering of local musicians.
And the occasional unannounced performance of “Chopsticks.”
