You spit out perfectly good wine. Failed to learn French. And, worst of all, there was nary a pinball machine to be found...
So say hello to Swine, two floors of vino, pork and high scores that will never be matched, opening Monday in the Village.
This is the late-night bunker this neighborhood is surprisingly short on. Part ’70s-tinged faux dive, part low-ceilinged basement game room of your youth. You know, if that basement had an open kitchen churning out pork chops with mustard jus and bone marrow brisket burgers till 3am.
Head upstairs first. Order a glass of pinot. Look around a bit. Copper two-tops. Vintage Madonna and Stones photography from the Morrison Hotel. Dead Kennedys concert fliers pinned to a corkboard wall. Look back at your glass of pinot. Yeah, kind of strange to have here. But go with it.
Now grab a seat downstairs. You’ve got proto-punk on the speakers and a ping-pong table Frankenstein’d into a communal spot for you and 11 friends to set up camp with some whole roasted trout and pork rillettes.
You’re going to want to bring some backup here. Backup and quarters. That ventriloquist-dummy pinball machine—it’s fully operational.
And yeah, reclaimed ping-pong table is a thing now.