The weekend is barbecuing everything in sight.
You're probably a bit curious about the much-discussed Flatiron hipster crash pad, and while the bar's not technically open until Friday, that shouldn't stop you from nabbing a spot on one of the flannel couches tonight, tucking into some caramel popcorn (or maybe the crispy pork scratching) and ordering up a few incognito manhattans.
Unbeknownst to your neighbors, Ssam Bar's boozy, experimental, afterhours alter ego has been mixing up an off-the-menu concoction known as the Negroni Cory Lane (after the beloved GM) with Tyrconnell whiskey, Carpano Antica vermouth and a dash of Aperol. Since we know how much you love an experimental Negroni with a good pork shoulder, we thought you should know…
Mr. Chow (Philippe, to his friends) is setting up a long-awaited Hamptons outpost, with all the Peking duck and complement of cougars you're used to from his UES palace—transplanted just down the road from Lily Pond. For the right price, he'll even drop by your next dinner party—in case you need a famous chef/beach volleyball ringer.
Five bucks gets you and your bike washed courtesy of a few entrepreneurial, bikini-clad hipster ladies at this East Williamsburg storefront. Think of it as a wet and wild water fight, where everyone's a winner. Especially you.
No, this isn't spam and don't say big pharma never did anything for you. Any recent pink-slip recipients taking Viagra can get a free year's supply, courtesy of the bedroom-friendly pill pushers at Pfizer. Finally, a stimulus we can get behind.
