No, PDT does not mean Pacific Daylight Time.
This is a blog about the East Village, after all. We’re on Eastern Time here. Is there any other time?
When entertaining by acronym, PDT means “Please Don’t Tell,” of course – and it’s a speakeasy!
I had never been to a speakeasy until last Friday and I bet I looked like I had never been to one either. I wanted to walk around and say, “Isn’t this cool? We’re in a speakeasy!” – a sure sign that PDT is no longer cool.
As you probably know, a speakeasy is a holdover from the days of Prohibition when liquor was illegal and boozing was something you did behind an unlit doorway or fake wall. Unfortunately for some, there’s nothing illegal going on in PDT unless your juris gets prudent around East Villagers chilling out with ‘classic’ cocktails, hot dogs and a good jukebox (or iPod).
Entertaining by Acronym Hot Tip: PDT
Call 212-614-0386 after 3p. on the day you want to go to PDT and make a reservation. I called at 5:30 and they only had one slot left for 6:30 p.m. I felt lucky.
Up at the PDT liquor laboratory, as viewed from a distant table for two, the bartenders wore gold vests that were so anti-anti-establishment they were anti-establishment. They shimmied and shook their tools of mixology “avec puissance” in coordination with a swift and able waitstaff which resulted in this blogger receiving a healthy buzz. According to Gawker, James Meehan is in charge of blogger buzz and he earned his silver star last Friday.
“The Professor” was my intoxicant of choice and contained VSOP, Sweet Vermouth and a few other powerful spirits including the ‘classic’ flavor favorite – bitters. Served in a miniature martini-type glass, “The Professor” was packin’ a punch and price ($15). After my second Prof, I was feeling groovy. After my third, even groovier. It helped that along the way were two hot dogs including the palette pleaser – The John John (something, I can’t remember) Hot Dog which comes with cream cheese and diced chives. It was as good as EU foie gras at 1/3 the price.
Another attribute of a speakeasy is a secret entrance (“Oh my gawd, it has a secret entrance! I love it!”). PDT’s is well-camouflaged by a retractable phone booth door – don’t forget to ring the bell under the phone to enter – in the hot dog habitat of Crif Dogs, owned and operated by Brian Shebairo on St. Marks Place between First Avenue and Avenue A.
Within the past year, I’ve been going into Crif Dogs and marveled at everyone eating their cheese coneys and avocado bacon dogs at all hours. As it turns out, they were likely on their way into or out of of PDT.
And since it appears PDT has been around a while, and now I’ve been to PDT, as I suggested earlier, there is no WAY it’s cool anymore.
So, if you want a good drink in a comfortable East Village of New York City surrounding with few scenesters – and you don’t need to be cool – try PDT. It’s more than just another acronym bar.
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February 5th, 2008
Entry Filed under: Drink