Continuing our delightful boy/girlfauxriendship, Greg and I met up for a cute, “hey we both get out at 5, let’s pretend we have real human jobs and treat ourselves after a grueling day” drink last week. The Frying Pan is very fetch right now, and it is where anyone who is anyone with a 9 to 5 is sure to head after they get that last memo out.
I guess it is essentially a rusty docked boat, but it has a certain charm that New Yorkers aged 23 to 35 categorized as “young professionals” just can’t get enough of. Apparently my fabulous Bubby knows the owner really well, *no surprise*, and though I am fairly certain that The Frying Pan is harboring eight million legal code violations, it is nice to know that New York can still have a quintessential “dive bar.” (No diving/ river/ water pun intended) And I’m sorry, it’s just THE COOLEST PLACE! Very breezy and relaxing, and while most people scoff at the crowds of button-down-leather-messenger-bag-smartphone-Wall-Street-working frat boys, I really really really really don’t mind ’em.
We proceeded to be fortunate enough to find a table, and gorged on a generous helping of $10 BUTTERLY DRENCHED DELICIOUS mussels and a pitcher of the frying pan sangria which is really a magical concoction of grapes and white wine and TASTES LIKE SWEET REFRESHING SUMMERTIME WELCH’S FOR GROWNUPS YUMMINESS.
We ran into MAD BU DG’S! Cause duh we’d run into BU Greeks on their way to The Frying Pan in the middle of Manhattan in the summertime. And then Greg and I naturally ended our date with Brooklyn Bagel & Coffee Co. bagels and lox, to do our Jew selves proud. The end. 🙂