"Way Cooler Than Its Uppity Neighbours"

Dinner after about an hour of cold wandering around in Manhattan dusk, looking for something interesting - but not expensive... authentic - but where my jeans and layered sweaters would fit in...hearty - without being a chain tourist trap....

The weather scuffed neon sign sucked me in. The no-nonsense menu and "No Credit Cards" handwritten sign made me sit down. The Tribeca Tavern was it.

A neighbourhood hangout that reminded me of some of my favourite Queen W divey spots like Sweaty Bettys or Communist Daughter. 4 generations represented around the bar, comfy broken down couches in the corners for gab fests. Solid wooden chairs and tables with good view of the big screen TV (it was NFL playoff day...)

Fantastic selection of American microbrews and good international mix too. I had a pale ale - don't recall which one. But thoroughly enjoyed the crusty curmudgeon of the day bartender as he lectured a 20-something art student. "No we don't do bloody marys. ever. we're not that kind of bar". I think she said "God Bless you" and ordered a Delerium.

The steak sandwich was good, the fries spectacular. No pictures because I killed my camera battery at the USAirways wreck site.

Ladies room scared the bejesus out of me. I don't know if this used to be a subway stairway or they just made it look that way, but I kept expecting to have to slide a token in the slot to get toilet paper.