
Spring has hit the city and you know what that means: hot girl WSH walks, Ralph’s iced lattes and, of course, day-drinking in the West Village.
While Houston Hall, Bleeker Street Bar and Radegast are rites of passage for every New Yorker, we’ve officially aged out of sticky floors and “I’m sure we have a million mutuals.”
The question then becomes: if you’re not pregaming at View 34 and ending the night at Sweetie, how are you spending your Saturday?
With “what are good places to drink” texts flooding my phone, I’ve rounded up the best places to “spritz” when it’s 70 degrees… and when you’re not trying to hang with girls who just got their degrees.
Where you go when you want to pretend you’re effortlessly French, but still ask for oat milk. Chic? Absolutely. Overpriced? Also, yes. But you’ll do it for the Instagram, fries… and a killer Hugo Spritz.
Natural wine, chaotic energy and interiors that scream “I thrifted in Bushwick once.” Come for the wine, stay because you accidentally matched with your server on Hinge.
You may not be at Nammos Myoknos, but at least you don’t need to be (Frankie) bikini-bod ready to enjoy Greek salad and a glass of wine. It’s not super sceney, but the people-watching is just entertaining enough to make it worth your while.
For when you can’t get into Lilia or Misi…. but need carbs ala Misi Robbins. Two drinks in and you’ll be flirting with the breadcrumb pasta like it’s “hot elevator guy.”
This spot is giving la dolce vita, but like… curated for basic girls on TikTok. Think prosecco, Prada sunnies indoors and at least one friend who says “I’m California sober, but I’ll have a glass of wine” twice before appetizers.
A LES staple for the “I only drink orange wine now” crowd. Tables are tiny, vibes are massive and you will absolutely overhear someone named Juliette talking about her Substack.
Italian deli for some, the perfect place to chug Aperol for us. You’ll leave tipsy, convinced that you’re moving to Italy and with a jar of anchovies you didn’t need, but felt cultured buying.
Most come here for the burger, but we’re obviously in it to get drunk with guys in Common Projects and Reuben Oliver polos. Order the martini at 1 p.m. You’re not basic, you're European.
Come for the views, stay because you got lost trying to find the elevator. It’s where eco-friendly-core meets influencer-core. You will pay $28 for a cocktail and somehow not be mad about it.
The spot where you convince yourself you're at La Fontelina, but haven’t left the country in almost two years. The Italian vibes will have you feeling like a snobby foodie — even if your last meal was This Bowl’s Miso Salmon.
Tiny, sexy and way more than just a pitstop to Via Carota. Espresso or amaro? Trick question. You’re obv getting both.
For when you want oysters, yellowtail jalapeño and flirty lighting that makes your situationship look 20% hotter. Order the lychee martini and pretend you haven’t stalked his Venmo activity.
A Soho classic where the crowd is always hot, slightly rude and dressed like they just walked out of a 2018 Vogue spread. Loud, fabulous and your magnum Rosé bottle will arrive in under two minutes. Thank gd.
You claim you're here for the pasta, but let’s be real — you came to be L’Artusi-adjacent. Honestly, the baked gnocchi and wagyu tartare make it a great contender to spritz & yap… no Resy notifs needed.
Cover photo: Pinterest
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