The name of this place is lame. Sorry to be blunt, but it’s just plain embarrassing telling people to meet you at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame. I oscillated between feeling like a redneck and a sissy for going to this joint, but that was before I actually found the place. Luckily I didn’t have to ask anybody for directions on the way there (I tend to get lost easily south of the numbered streets), and found my way easily to the crowded bar filled with a bunch of folks that looked just like me. After throwing down my messenger bag down next to the pile of other work bags, I ordered a couple of beers and tried not to be annoyed by the asshole smokers and cellphone chicks. Once our large group was seated, we were immediately assaulted by our amazingly flamboyant server. Hey, at the least the guy seemed excited to be there! The menu was kind of an amalgamation of southwestern/southern/white trash junk, including the chili, which I ordered, and some nachos and a Frito pie, whatever that is. It turns out this is one of those places where a large, drunken group can yell to each other across the table and not raise any eyebrows. Overall it was a fun experience, and the food was alright. Yeah, it wasn’t a culinary dream, but what do you expect from a place with a name this silly? [MF]
519 Hudson St. (at W 10th St.)
212/633-1133
cowgirlnyc.com