The old joke goes that Jake’s only dilemma is that he can’t get any chicks into his bar. Seriously, what self-respecting yuppie UWS woman would want to drag her ass into this dump? More like a fraternity basement than a bar, Jake’s brings back that sour moldy beer smell you loved so much as a nineteen year-old sophomore with a bad I.D., bad hair and that horrible rugby shirt look. Apparently this place brews its own beer, but the crowd is strictly of the Bud Light/Woo-Woo shot variety, and anything brewed in this place would probably taste something like soggy wood and cigarette butts anyway. If you dig foosball, darts and pool in a post-frat-party atmosphere (and don’t mind a place that is swept on a biannual basis) then hang out and enjoy a slice of your lost youth. [MF]
430 Amsterdam Ave.