Wednesday, October 13th, 2010—Bar 276

Day 276—Tuesday, October 12th, 2010
Toad Hall
Okay, day two of working the day and night shift and so far (I’m jinxing the shit out of myself) it hasn’t been that bad. I found what looks to be a very promising bar for tonight. It’s a place in Soho called Toad Hall and I’ve read nothing but good reviews about it. One review even said there were Jesus action figures at the bar to play with. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Water into wine, baby! Pick up your mat and let’s go.

Here we are, Toad Hall, let's check it out.

Nice and dark inside and some seats at the bar. Perfect!

And Barry the friendly bartender is quick with an ice-cold bottle of Red Stripe. I like it in here already.

Behind the bar is a long line of bottles and mirrors.

And above the bar hangs this painting. It makes you want to add an extra "s" to masterpiece.

Ha ha ha! Here you go, Tim Clack, I found my whine bar at last!

This fellow up at the front of the bar appears to be stoned.

There's a candlelit table up front by the window.

And there's tables off to the side of the bar, where I found this group who dub themselves, "The Tuesday Night Toad Group."

There's a jukebox in the back with such varied selections as: Aretha Franklin, Ike and Tina Turner Revue, John Hiatt, Dusty Springfield and Luther Allison. And now to name drop, I knew Luther Allsion, in fact, I was his wife's next door neighbor in Peoria. I'll have to write about that sometime.

The back room houses this pool table.

Red leather banquettes and tables line the perimeter of the walls in the back room.

There's also stools at this side wall as you enter the back room.

Meanwhile, back at the bar, Barry's taking care of business.

Ainslee, Matt and Marissa were seated next to me at the end of the bar and were very supportive of the 365 bar crawl idea.

Toads and bottles of beer above the bar.

And while looking up, what do I see but the Action Jesus I had read about!

So naturally I had to have a picture with Him.

So here's to you, Action Jesus, enjoy some beer and forget all about the fact that all those people you helped nailed you to a cross and left you to die. Cheers to Action Jesus!

Number 57? This is number 276, oh well, what are you going to do? Goodnight, everybody!

Review
Okay, I overslept (this may happen quite a bit in the two weeks) and I’m running late for work, so I don’t have time to write a review for Toad Hall. I give it a thumbs up and it’s a great place and here’s New York magazine’s review of the place. It’s one of their critics picks.
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In the tradition of its fictional namesake English manor, Toad Hall manages to be capacious but cozy all at once. Exposed brick walls and dark-wood fixtures help, as do the mismatched mirrors strategically hung above eye level, which make the space seem bigger without forcing you to confront your drunken reflection at every turn. Or perhaps it's just the motto posted on the register: Be nice or leave. Patrons seem to take it to heart, and a mixture of youthful pub-crawlers and older stool-warmers can be seen enjoying themselves very nicely indeed, any night of the week. Add a well-kept pool table (every other Monday is league night), a pleasantly varied wine list and a range of good beers (at low prices for the neighborhood), and you've got a charming bar that beckons on a chilly winter evening—anytime you want to step off the Soho street and into a warm, well-lighted place. — Jessica Stockton
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Toad Hall
57 Grand St. (near West Broadway)
212-431-8145
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Bonus Photo!

David Brooks has been threatening to send in a photo wearing his “Down Under” 365 shirt that “Boris” specifically made for our Aussie mates. And  he finally made good on his threat, check out Brooksy below! Thanks for buying the shirt, Brooksy! If you’d like your own official 365 shirt, beer cozy, beer mug, mouse pad, coaster and other items all designed by our in-house artist, “Boris,” feel free to stop by the 365 Store. And remember that “Boris” is available for freelance work if you need a logo, a CD or book cover designed or some special artwork for your website or blog. Just send me an email and I’ll forward it to “Boris.”

And speaking of Luther Allison, here he is. R.I.P. Luther.

Sunday, October 10th, 2010—Bar 273

Day 273—Saturday, October 9th, 2010
Circa Tabac (Originally headed for The Broome Street Bar)
Okay, it’s Cheeseburger Saturday Night and through a Google search I found a bar that sounds like it has a great bacon cheeseburger. The bar is The Broome Street Bar and it looks like a classic, old-school joint that’s been on the block since the ‘70s. Let’s go check it out, I’m jonesing for a cheeseburger!

Here we are at the Broome Street Bar, smack-dab in the middle of Soho.

Uh, oh, looks like a lot of other people had the same idea. There's not a seat at the bar. Time to improvise.

Luckily, I remembered another bar that I've been meaning to go to and it's just a couple blocks away. In fact through the magic of the internet, here are at Circa Tabac. And what does that say? Smoking Lounge?

Yes, that's right, smoking is permitted in here. Translation: Fuck you Mayor Bloomberg!

It's nice and dark inside and plenty of seats at the bar. I think we've found tonight's destination.

And as friendly bartender Damil serves up an ice cold bottle of Red Stripe, I know we've found tonight's destination!

Something I haven't seen in quite a while, an ashtray in a bar.

And there's a tree of cigarettes at the bar.

Usually I just have one or two cigarettes before I go to sleep, but what the hell. When in Rome, light up or leave me alone.

Here's a full shot of the bar.

The draft beers available.

There's a large candle-lit lounge behind the bar.

Rows of wooden, candle-lit tables line the walls. Each has its own ash tray of course.

Large bay windows give a nice view of the street outside.

A reserved banquette in the dark corner of the bar.

Cigarette art hangs on the wall above the banquette.

A classic shot of Humphrey Bogart and his ever-present cigarette.

Another view of the front bar.

And it's dinner time! Jennifer, the beautiful waitress on duty serves up a chicken sandwich with a lovely smile.

They didn't have a cheeseburger on the menu, but this chicken sandwich was just as good. The chicken is parmesan encrusted and served on a croissant with melted mozzarella cheese and a chipotle mayonnaise. I also got an order of onion rings. Delicious!

Burp.

There is one place you can't smoke in Circa Tabac, the bathroom. Which can only lead to...

The almost-forgotten, obligatory bathroom shot! Goodnight, everybody!

Review
Circa Tabac is one of the last places you can enjoy a cocktail and a cigarette in New York City. Since they sold tobacco products, they’ve been able to escape the smoking ban in bars. And if you don’t smoke, don’t worry, the air purifiers make sure that the place isn’t a den of second-hand smoke. The bar is dark and lit by dim chandeliers and candle light. The crowd is a mix of neighborhood locals and tourists amazed at seeing ash trays on every table and people using them. The music is eclectic and ranges from jazz, to hip hop, funk, pop and rock, played at a conversational level.

There’s a nice selection of bottled and draft beers, but this place is more of a cocktail bar. Some of the house cocktails include the signature Circa Tabac Cocktail which is Cognac, Grand-Marnier, Honey and Lemon Juice; a French Martini, Passion Fruit Caipirissima and a Chocolate Kiss which mixes Godiva Liqueur, Vodka, Creme de Cacao and it’s topped with a Hershey Kiss. There’s also a food menu, featuring small plates such as: pigs in a blanket, a mini rack of lamb, crab cakes and a chicken sandwich.

And there’s a large variety of cigarettes and cigars to be had here as well. Smoke if you got ‘em!

Circa Tabac
32 Watts St. (Near Sixth Ave.)
212-941-1781

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Bonus Story by Nick Tosches

Acclaimed New York writer Nick Tosches is a regular at Circa Tabac. He's the guy on the far right in this portrait that hangs in the front of the bar Here’s  what he wrote about the bar.

The Last Bar
By Nick Tosches

I know the dirty secret of why and how the no-smoking con went down. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that there’s still a joint—Circa Tabac—where I can go, set myself down, order a drink and light up. One last breath in this dying hick-town mall that used to be Manhattan. A real Bar, with real ashtrays and real people. I used to call it the last bar in New York. Now that London and even Paris have folded, I call it the last bar, period. And that’s what it is: a bar that is as bars once were, and as bars should be. The last of them. See you there, baby, see you there.

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Bonus Cartoon by Jaws

Jaws just sent me this hilarious smoking ban cartoon. Check it out!