Pub Crawl

The last couple days have been chilly and gray, typical New York wintry days. White skies have been sputtering rain. Perfect days to nest inside.

It was also the perfect day to have pub food for lunch. We drove to Willimsburg, to Spike Hill, for butternut squash soup and sandwiches. It's a cozy place on Bedford Avenue, with a huge selection of liquor, and a bartender who could pass for Drew Barrymore.. Bare brick walls, a black wood bar and the chalkboard menu create a down-to-earth, authentic interior.

'What's the Irish Fry-Up?' Mark asked, reading the wall.

'Oh, five different fried sausages,' she said, with a wink. 'It's great for hangovers'. For eleven bucks, you get blood sausages, rashers (bacon), Irish sausages, two fried eggs and black beans heaped on a plate. Uh...gross. Definitely not on the diet list. I guess if you're woozy, anything is possible.




We ate at the bar, alongside hipsters already drinking at 2 in the afternoon. One fellow came in from a pub crawl for a couple shots of Jagermeister. Dozens of hipsters skittered past on the sidewalk in the rain, doing their Sunday chores or whatever hipsters do, (like washing their hair, rooting through bins of used clothing for the oddest thing possible, looking bored).

It was so crummy out, Mark and I decided against visiting our favorite Willyburg haunts. We nested the rest of the day, me nursing my tiny, sore muscles. For some reason, after running and arm exercises yesterday, my abs hurt. I'm just relieved to know that I have muscles. Thank goodness.




Upper photos by myself, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
Bottom photo from the Spike Hill website.

For some great reviews of Spike Hill, click here.