Sitting among the ranks of the cleverly unmarked speak-easys and secret supper clubs cropping up all over the city (simply going out to eat in New York is overrated), Freeman's fails to exist on most maps. Hidden down the aptly-titled "Freeman Alley" -- an unassuming, graffiti-glad path, tucked between Bowery and Chrystie -- the place is easy to stroll right past. The end of the dim, narrow stretch, however, opens up to reveal a pair of blue-paned double doors, framed in chimerical white string-lights, and set in chipped red brick. Decked in tasteful taxidermy, warm woods, and vintage art, the upscale eatery specializes in creative custom cocktails and rustic American cuisine, with menu offerings like Hunter's Stew (elk, venison, and boar with root vegetables) and house-made spaghetti squash in fresh cream-pesto. And while it prides itself on using wild game, sustainable seafood and produce from New York farms, Freeman's greatest acclaim is derived from its trendy discretion.