Bars / New York / Restaurants/Bars

Death & Company

Saturday was a great day, start to finish.  Ess-a-Bagel was a smart way to start the day and fill up on carbs before heading to The Village Pourhouse for some day drinking while watching the Masters.  Golf may not be the typical sport companion for day drinking, but we seemed to make it work.  By the time the golf ended, we needed to hurry home to get ready for dinner and our night out.  I was only a tad upset about being denied my nap, but I managed to rally even though I no longer consider myself a spring chicken. 

The dinner hot spot of choice was Death and Company (the menu is a tad outdated on the website).  The name derives from the prohibition era mindset that to consume alcohol was to live a life shadowed by death.  Here, bartending is an art.  They are master mixologists and they have put some blood, sweat, and tears into determining the best combinations possible.  When a drink is stirred, they don’t just swish around a swizzle stick.  They meticulously count out each one of the 40-50 rotations.  The tiny restaurant does not accept reservations but after slipping some cash to the bouncer, our names magically moved up the list rather quickly.  Well worth it.  The cocktails were wonderful, and the food didn’t disappoint, either.

  • Tuna Tartar (with avocado and homemade kettle chips)
  • Lobster Brioche Rolls (with a jicama salad)
  • 2 orders of crispy pork belly (served with cranberry beans and pomegranate)
  • Truffle Mac & Cheese
  • Pulled Pork Sliders (with a potato and apple salad)
Sadly, I only managed to take two pictures before I was told to turn my flash off, but trust me when I say that both taste and presentation for all dishes was well done.  My favorite plates were the Pork Belly (the explosion of the pomegranate was a nice contrast to the creamy beans…plus I love pork belly – it’s basically an excuse to eat pure fat in a nice restaurant) and the Truffle Mac.  I need to buy myself some truffle oil.  It makes everything just taste fancier.  I could probably pour it over Cheerios and feel like I’m in a gourmet restaurant.  I think it has the same effect on food that English accents have on people.  I automatically think Englishmen are intelligent, cultured, and hot – even when they have awful teeth.

After dinner, we tried (and failed) to hit up 2 very crowded bars (Whiskey Town and PDT) before meeting some friends at Dempsey’s.  It was worth going to that bar just to watch a couple NYU students make fools of themselves.  Oh college…

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