And there’s the open kitchen, where someone in an apron is constantly flipping the rank-smelling burgers that have kept many an impoverished young homosexual going through student days. There’s the long, long, long dark wood bar that’s been here since the mid 19 th century, and looks it there’s the jukebox and tables at the back, with low-slung lighting. To walk into Julius’ is to step off one stage set – Greenwich Village’s prettiest intersection – and straight onto another, a fragrant Edward Hopper painting brought to life. To walk into Julius’ is to step off one stage set – Greenwich Village’s prettiest intersection – and straight onto another, a fragrant Edward Hopper painting brought to life And when it does, I may leave New York for good. There are craft pubs today in Peckham that are indistinguishable from their counterparts in Brooklyn, but you can’t fake Julius’: this is a place that could only exist in New York City. When people talk about “old New York”, Julius’ is what I see in my head. I can’t remember the first time I visited Julius’ on W10th Street, but it’s been in New York significantly longer than I have.
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