Happy birthday, you’re halfway to sixty.
So this past weekend marked my crossing of the threshold into a new decade of life… And as such, it involved much celebration and shenanigans all over the city. Yes, it’s taken me until Wednesday to be able to make an attempt at processing and posting about it. What can I say. I’ve come to espouse the theory that one should exit one’s thirtieth birthday celebrations feeling at least twice that age. And boy did I.
What’s that you say? I don’t look a day over 21? You’re sweet. Funnily enough, I got carded at our first stop on Friday night. Some little dive in the East Village–I don’t remember the name. Our first destination was meant to be Death & Company, but since we got there a few minutes before they opened, we ducked into a little place a few doors down, closer to Avenue A. The blond bartender was sweet. If you know who I mean, give her a kiss for me.
So after a drink there (jack and coke for me) it was over to Death & Co. for a much different cocktail experience. Man is that place great. I can’t recommend it highly enough. Definitely the kind of place to take out-of-towners for a fun NYC experience. Don’t get me wrong, the drinks are expensive and in many cases ridiculously involved to create–not the place to go for cheap and sloppy bender. But that’s just it: the bartenders (mixologists?) take their craft very seriously. The ingredients are all incredibly fresh, and the attention to detail is insane. My drink was made with three different types of ice! I’m sure some people would find it a little affected, but I think it has its charms. The whole experience reminded me a little of Milk & Honey, but bigger, less pretentious, more comfortable, and yes, with fewer weird affectations. (You actually get a menu, and it has prices on it!) And the drinks were delicious.
And so it was a nice beginning to my birthday weekend. Stay tuned for details on the 72 hours that followed.