Niles and the 400 lb. monkey

As Heather mentioned earlier in the week, we spent last Wednesday grabbing food and drinks at Pony Bar before catching a performance of Accent on Youth starring David Hyde Pierce. Heather was meeting me there so when I arrived I scored two primo seats at the bar near the taps (I like to watch the barkeep’s pouring technique. Also they have this neat device under the taps that shoots water up into the pint glass ensuring a freshly rinsed glass before each pint. With the exception of myself, this kind of technology would only impress five year olds.)

While waiting for Heather, I had the chance to peruse the selection of drafts. Their featured brewery was a brewing company out of Colorado called Left Hand. What caught my eye was the fact that Pony Bar had, not one, but two India Pale Ales (IPAs) from this establishment as well as one on their regular beer list. As a fan of IPAs, I nearly urinated myself.

I started off with the 400 lb. Monkey IPA. In matters of beer—as well as in matters of life—when a 400 lb. monkey is involved, I need to be a part of it. Don’t judge me. As advertised, it was a solid IPA: 7% alcohol content, very hoppy and floral with a slight sweetness that tempered and complemented the hops. Much like a 400 lb. monkey, it was both playful and dangerous.

My second glass was Left Hand’s Warrior IPA. This was a much more straightforward IPA: 6.6% alcohol content, very hoppy and bitter with a smooth clean finish—a much more satisfying way to tap the rockies if you ask me (please don’t sue me Coors, it’s all in good fun.)

Heather had a glass of the Voodoo Vator Stout from Atwater Brewery. The thing that infuriated me about this was that they gave it to her in an eight ounce glass rather than a pint. There are a few beers that Pony Bar does this with, but this was not advertised as one of them. It was at that point that I grew to about three times my size and began smashing elements of the bar, waitstaff and anyone with the nerve to try and subdue me. Again I almost urinated myself (Fun side note: The urine would have been neon green and blacklight responsive.) I was finally quelled when Heather reminded me that she’s not a big beer drinker and she preferred the smaller size.

Her next round was Left Hand’s Milk Stout. Heather asked the bartender if she could have the Milk Stout served in the half pint glass like her first round. The bartender was happy to oblige but still charged us the full price (urge to kill—rising.) The beer was nice: A bit milder than the Voodoo Vator, but maltier and more flavorful than, say, a Guinness (please don’t sue me Guinness, I’m in enough trouble with Coors.)

We got our check. The shot of whiskey we enjoyed cost us a cool fifteen dollars which caused me to finally urinate myself. Heather tells me I should see a doctor about this problem, but it’s not a big deal. As the mop and bucket were brought out, we took our leave to enjoy a sophisticated night of bright lights, madcap comedy, and David Hyde Pierce. Bring it on Niles.

Betting on the Pony... Bar

This week was a bit of a whirlwind, with small bites grabbed when convenient.  On a night Will had class I even whipped out my staple of first year out of college style cooking. Annie’s Organic Peace, Pasta, and Parmesan with focaccia seasoning and whatever leftover meat is in the fridge. Yes, I cooked like I was 23. For those having the kind of night where this kind of dish is desired or required, a frozen sausage can be fried up and goes nicely in this as well. Makes about 2 servings, so if you’re not feeding a boyfriend or roommate, it makes a decent lunch the next day.

On Wednesday night I scored theatre tickets at Manhattan Theatre Club on 47th, so Will and I decided to do pub fare at a place we’ve been attempting for a month now, Pony Bar on 10th Ave. This endeavor started the week it opened, hearing about its plethora of micro-brews and being desperate for decent after work places in Hell’s kitchen we headed in, ordered beers and asked for a menu. No-go, Con Ed hadn’t given them permission to open the kitchen yet. This was distressing as food was a definite requirement if we were going to bar crawl that evening. We finished our single drink that night and moved on to a bar providing victuals. A follow up phone call when making plans about two weeks later revealed it STILL wasn’t open. With my fingers crossed, I called Wednesday afternoon and was assured food was being served. 

Apparently they were in the early phases of promoting their menu, because when I walked in there was a photographer with full set up taking pictures of an admittedly appetizing looking burger. The photos don’t seem to be on their website yet, but I would bet they’d be there soon.

Will, allured by the temptation of a model I suspect, chose the Burger and myself the Italian Sandwich. I was more then impressed with the food. Will’s burger had an excellent onion roll that had me stealing bites, it was soft with the onion adding a bit of crunch and the burger was still juicy despite Will’s puzzling affection for “medium well.” My sandwich was wholly satisfying, slightly spicy and addictive. The roll was soft and the meat perfectly portioned. An herb mayo had me rueing my inability to finish. Had I not theatre tickets I would have asked for it wrapped.

About halfway through our meals I noticed behind the bar three small bottles of Hudson Whiskey in Baby Bourbon, Four Grain Bourbon, and Manhattan Rye. Being a snob I have to point out here that technically the bourbons aren’t, to be called bourbon it has to be made in Kentucky (similar to how it’s only Champagne if it comes from Champagne, France) therefore by definition New York whisky is ineligible. But I digress.

On bartender’s recommendation we tried a shot of the Baby Bourbon, sipping and passing it between the two of us. Will commented that it was carmelly, almost like a scotch. It was a well crafted whiskey, well placed on the tongue, and like most things of craft and some elegance, expensive. The check revealed the shot to have cost $15.

 With its proximity to the theatre district but its distance from Times Square I highly recommend this place if you are looking for a bite before a show without dealing with tourists. Fair warning, it gets a bit flooded with the after work crowd so you may have to hover a few minutes for seats. The real lure of the bar is its variety of micro-brewed independent beers. Will, in his greater alcohol eloquence, will cover that on Wednesday.

For those interested the play, Accent on Youth, was very funny, witty, and involved a sense of self awareness to the construction on of a play. It was a charming way to complete an excellent date night.