We’ve walked by this joint a thousand times. To be honest, we walked by it not only because the name is completely nonsensical, but also because it’s so damn small we didn’t even see it. It’s so small we thought it was the doorway for the apartments upstairs. Fortunately, it was the only uncrowded place to grab a bite at midnight while we staggered down Amsterdam. Fortunately, nothing satisfies like a plate full of chips and cheese (or a tortilla filled with cheese) when you’re hankering for some salt to go with your beer. And they have the beer too! And margaritas! I can’t imagine the sentence “Hey, let’s meet for dinner at Yippie Yi Yo” ever emanating from my cranium, but you could do worse for a surprise drop-in–I suppose. We have no idea if there is ever anybody in this joint, but they were desperate enough for customers to let us drunk idiots completely over-stay our welcome and torture the poor waitress well after closing. Don’t worry, we tipped well. [MF]
450 Amsterdam Ave.