Things named after flowers don't generally have the manliest connotation, except of course for Pete Rose, who would very much like to take the over on carnations vs. azaleas. Wait, you can't bet on flowers? Whatever, let's just do the moneyline on tulips. For a joint whose awesome pubbishness overcomes its flowery name, check out The Dandelion
The latest project out of Stephen Starr's magic hat, the punny Dandelion (the logo's a posh Sub-Saharan feline) is a massive pub with eclectic dining rooms (a bay-windowed, white-mantled sunroom; an entry room with a milk pail-lined ceiling), two bars (including one upstairs filled with imported canine figurines), and a menu from an English chef offering gastro fare, afternoon tea, Sunday roasts, and bar snacks, which for Roseanne, is everything that was just mentioned. Starters include a chicken & duck liver parfait w/ grape chutney & cornichons, mac & cheese w/ braised ham hock & Quickie's English cheddar, and a beetroot-cured salmon w/ horseradish cream, chopped shallots, capers, and herbs, though luckily not capers featuring herbs, or you'd just be eating Hardy Boys novels. Mains run the gamut from traditional-style jawns like Chatham cod fish & chips and bangers & mash w/ Cumberland sausage & onion gravy, to mo' gastro plates like a confit goose leg w/ braised red cabbage & chestnut/bacon gratin, and a NY strip steak that's
aged for 28 days, before waking to an abandoned, zombified London aged for 28 days
To combat being not-full of booze, there're authentic cocktails like a Pimm's Deluxe, choice tap, bottle, and can selections, and hand pumps churning casks of Brit brews like Old Speckled Hen and Greene King, which is what Pete Rose is going to be, assuming those goddamn butterfly orchids cover for once.