If you’re here, you’re confused. You were looking for Astoria’s other beer garden, or so I learned when I stumbled into this over-priced, over-douched, “we’re not sure exactly what we want to be” version of New York’s beer gardens. (Case in point: no beer garden should have velvet ropes.) Part sports bar, part music venue, part outdoor drinking lounge (I refuse to acknowledge this as a beer garden), this is a cornucopia of waxed chests and gelled hair. The only possible excuse for going home with someone here? The chilled shot dispenser.
This notorious Williamsburg meat market is prime breeding ground for early hipsters first discovering beanies, bicycles, and plaid. I don’t consider it a turn-on when you have to sign me into your NYU dorm.