The Raven

Edgar Allan Poe may walk this earth "nevermore," but that doesn't mean you can't dance and drink the night away in his honor.

The Raven, a new subterranean nightclub in the dizzying Meatpacking district, is the place to get your Poe on. The venue's name, for you literary dunces, is a nod to the author's most famous poem—a harrowing account of a lonely man's maddening encounter with that ominous bird of yore.

Let's face it: Drinking is an art. At Art Bar, there's no mistaking that fact.

Let’s face it. No other city does holidays the way NYC does.

Last Saturday, I went on a European adventure—without ever leaving Greenwich Village. With an itinerary of visiting three restaurants and an agenda to sample a half a dozen types of wine, I met up with the City Wine Tours West Village group for an afternoon in Italy, France and Spain.

The Colonies may have declared independence from Great Britain in 1776, but the Union Jack still waves over a small, cozy drinking establishment in the Flatiron District.

In a word, Petrossian is simply one of the city’s prettiest restaurants.

Rapper Rick Ross said it: “Everyday I’m Hustlin’.” Step into Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club and you’ll know exactly what he was getting at.

Palm trees and lush, brightly colored potted plants…huge sun and rain umbrellas…an outdoor bar…am I dreamily sipping a Mai Tai on the island of Antigua?

As it turns out, New York City’s underground art party scene is still alive and kicking—thanks much in part to Susanne Bartsch. The nightlife and gay culture fixture is putting the McKittrick Hotel on the map as a destination not only for the performance Sleep No More, but a bi-weekly performance art party aptly named Shhh!

When I told a friend I was headed to Green-Wood Cemetery last Thursday evening for my birthday, he accused me of trying to make a point about the cycle of birth and death. But the real reason I was going was much more glamorous: There were to be drinks and music in the beautiful stained-glass dotted cathedral on the grounds, which meant I could not only drink Brooklyn Brewery beer in a church (a lifelong goal) but wander the beautiful grounds with a drink in hand and music in my ears.


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