Well, looks like Mondays are still happening.
Good thing momentous LES cocktail bar openings are, too...
Welcome to Attaboy, a cozy, darkened holy land housing possibly the city’s best cocktails, now open.
Yes, this was Milk & Honey, before Milk & Honey moved. But the space was left in the capable hands of a couple of drink-whispering barmen who spent years perfecting cocktails-by-request at... Milk & Honey. And that worked out.
The big changes: it’s strictly walk-in now. They’ve axed the booths in the front and doubled the size of the brushed-steel-top bar. They’ll have a few beers, wines and charcuterie options soon. The brick’s now white. There’s no more rule list. But they still work with you to create custom cocktails that contain soul-affirming multitudes. Basically, it’s a lovingly tweaked, laid-back-younger-brother of its former self.
As for your place there: let’s put this around 1:30am. Find the door on Eldridge with the AB on it and a neon A in the window. There’s a button on the left. Buzz it. You’ll be buzzed in. So satisfying.
There’s three brown leather booths left in the whole place. Procure one for you and the post-post-dinner-drinks date you’ve brought. Someone bearded will ask you what you like—liquor-, mood- and taste-wise. And you’ll tell them. And it will be so.
The best part is when it is so.
Good thing momentous LES cocktail bar openings are, too...
Welcome to Attaboy, a cozy, darkened holy land housing possibly the city’s best cocktails, now open.
Yes, this was Milk & Honey, before Milk & Honey moved. But the space was left in the capable hands of a couple of drink-whispering barmen who spent years perfecting cocktails-by-request at... Milk & Honey. And that worked out.
The big changes: it’s strictly walk-in now. They’ve axed the booths in the front and doubled the size of the brushed-steel-top bar. They’ll have a few beers, wines and charcuterie options soon. The brick’s now white. There’s no more rule list. But they still work with you to create custom cocktails that contain soul-affirming multitudes. Basically, it’s a lovingly tweaked, laid-back-younger-brother of its former self.
As for your place there: let’s put this around 1:30am. Find the door on Eldridge with the AB on it and a neon A in the window. There’s a button on the left. Buzz it. You’ll be buzzed in. So satisfying.
There’s three brown leather booths left in the whole place. Procure one for you and the post-post-dinner-drinks date you’ve brought. Someone bearded will ask you what you like—liquor-, mood- and taste-wise. And you’ll tell them. And it will be so.
The best part is when it is so.
