... You’re right. All this talk about antique radios and stiff drinks is making us thirsty.
Oh, we weren’t talking about that?
Okay, let’s talk about that, then...
Welcome to Hill & Dale, an old-school-parlor-looking LES gastropub that throws you back to the days of analog entertainment. It’s now open.
This is from the guys who brought you the Brooklyneer. Just picture a time when incredibly handsome microphones and on-air signs and extremely plush couches and fireplaces were a part of everyone’s daily existence, and you’ve got this place. So long as you toss some rye-Carpano-Antica-Ramazzotti-and-orange-peel cocktails into the fantasy.
You’re coming here for end-of-week drinks and maybe some grilled wild-boar sausage amongst friends. (Nothing brings friends together like boar.) You’ll all want to breeze past the initial set of booths at the entrance—the ones surrounded by old record-making supplies. When you reach more booths and some accordion overhead lamps, breeze again.
Just keep moving until you’ve cleared the bar and its many musical accoutrements, and found yourself in a chandeliered living room. You’ll know it by its tufted sofas, the fireplace and its general living-room-ness. It’s here where you’ll take your coconut-rum cocktails and oysters Rockefeller.
Assuming you enjoy the sensation of being insanely comfortable...
Oh, we weren’t talking about that?
Okay, let’s talk about that, then...
Welcome to Hill & Dale, an old-school-parlor-looking LES gastropub that throws you back to the days of analog entertainment. It’s now open.
This is from the guys who brought you the Brooklyneer. Just picture a time when incredibly handsome microphones and on-air signs and extremely plush couches and fireplaces were a part of everyone’s daily existence, and you’ve got this place. So long as you toss some rye-Carpano-Antica-Ramazzotti-and-orange-peel cocktails into the fantasy.
You’re coming here for end-of-week drinks and maybe some grilled wild-boar sausage amongst friends. (Nothing brings friends together like boar.) You’ll all want to breeze past the initial set of booths at the entrance—the ones surrounded by old record-making supplies. When you reach more booths and some accordion overhead lamps, breeze again.
Just keep moving until you’ve cleared the bar and its many musical accoutrements, and found yourself in a chandeliered living room. You’ll know it by its tufted sofas, the fireplace and its general living-room-ness. It’s here where you’ll take your coconut-rum cocktails and oysters Rockefeller.
Assuming you enjoy the sensation of being insanely comfortable...
