It began innocent enough. Beer. In a bar. A few peanut shells on the floor.
But somewhere along the way, beer turned to car bombs. And then car bombs turned to a Guinness dunk tank.
So when Saturday rolls around again, perhaps you’ll consider easing up on the throttle.
Cuing the smooth jazz...
Welcome to Ginny’s Supper Club, a brassy, bourbony basement lounge space that’s located one flight beneath Red Rooster, now open.
If the Harlem Renaissance were ever going to have a renaissance, it would happen here. In a crimson-and-leather club spot that’ll play host to poets, authors, rock stars, DJs and, more often than not, a big, blustery, 17-piece jazz band.
You’ll come here in search of small plates, sax solos and... we’re pretty sure you don’t need a reason beyond that. On Sundays, they’ll bring out the horns. That’s when you’ll snag one of the stage-side seats, order a Dandridge (aquavit, sweet vermouth, a twist of orange rind) and let the slide trombones take you away.
On Saturdays, you’d be wise to focus on the food. Grab a bistro table and at least a quarter of chef Marcus Samuelsson’s new bar menu (think jerk veal tongue on Chinese buns and five-spice-cured duck). Or just enough dishes to keep you busy until after midnight. Because that’s when open mic will typically start.
Bryan Adams cover band: assemble.