The kids have wood. Well, the students have cedar, at least. And by the looks of this place, it took a whole forest of those big boys to build it. Such a quintessential college bar (in a good, worn table, pitchers, dudes wearing scarves indoors type of way), this joint almost tips the irony-o-meter into the farce zone. Given its proximity to NYU, it’s no wonder its youngish, arty crowd-on-a-budget hunkers down every night to enjoy beer and bar munchies in the vaguely mission-style cure for what ails you. There were other afterwork slobs like myself in there as well, and they looked just as pleased to be sitting in a place without suede ottomans as I was. We must have looked flush with cash, as our beers were kept full, our food arrived on time and still relatively warm and nobody tossed us out on our heads for being old turds. Apparently Bob Dylan once took a dump here or something–a fact that didn’t necessarily make my burger taste any better, but at least gave us some perspective on how uncool things truly are these days. I mean do we really think the voice of Gen X or Y was sitting there penning the next “Blowin’ in the Wind” on his titanium Mac laptop while drinking a Sam Adams Cherry Wheat beer? Somehow I doubt it. [MF]
82 University Pl.