Danny "Danito Supreme" P.'s Profile

There are plenty of good anchor stores here and if you ignore the fact that whoever designed the parking lot intended on burning a lot of your gas while you were stuck on idle in the parking lot trying to get out, then this is a good place to do your indoor shopping in Atlanta.

But on Friday morning when no one else is there? This place is fantastic. Easy in and out and the opportunity to get my dress socks at Nordstrom* and completely shock the woman at the counter who didn't expect anyone to make a 1200 mile journey for socks.

There's plenty of other good stores, and a food court that contains both a Chik-Fil-A and a Dairy Queen, but an over reliance on those booths in the middle of the concourses does make it kind of annoying to walk by when no one else is there and you're guaranteed to be accosted just trying to walk to where you're going.

Combine that with that thing that only Southern places do where the air conditioning is always perfect and all-encompassing while you're indoors and Perimeter Mall is a good place to do your mall shopping in Atlanta.

* - True story: all my dress socks come from Nordstrom, despite there not being a store anywhere near anywhere I've lived in the last ten years. Those socks really last.

There were new people, old friends, good drinks and good times. And no clowns, which was important.

But what will I remember most about this crazy carnival scene? Being heckled by Peter D. while trying to dunk his ass and being unable to because my noodle arm is a shame to my employer.

I'll get you next time, Peter.

If you're looking for an alternative in the area with free wi-fi*, Goldberg's is a good choice. They serve a ton of breakfast-type foods, most with a good helping of the toppings you've requested and they managed to have the low-fat cream cheese** and are quite willing to scoop out the bagels.

Sure, it's not going to be a New York bagel, but I realize I'm not in Brooklyn anymore.

You have two seating options, either you can purchase your food and sit at a counter with condiments and high-topped chairs while you Yelp away or you can sit at a plethora of Jersey-style diner booths with complimentary pickle slices on the table while the serving staff faithfully refill your coffee*** and let you sit as long as you'd like.

I wouldn't call this place a destination, but it certainly looks like the kind of place that a ton of people go to on a Friday morning. There are working mom types, older folks and some newborn parents**** all quietly conversing. The ice machine does an excellent job of masking most of the conversation, so you never feel as though anyone's listening too intently to your conversation.

All in all, a good place for breakfast and a good alternative to Starbucks.

* - I'm not sure if it's their wi-fi, and it's called Linksys, leading me to believe that someone just forgot to lock down their wireless down, but thanks to you if you didn't!

** - At least that's what they told me it was.

*** - And your Diet Coke, I would imagine. This is the South, after all.

**** - Vague modifier party! Parents of newborns, that is. It's not as if the parents are three months old.

Recession special? I got your recession special right here.

Cheap-ass dumplings, in both boiled and fried, with many options giving you 8 or so (for the chicken and mushroom) for only $3.

Eight dumplings for $3!

When I had grand jury duty (meaning I had to be at the courthouse around the corner every day for a month -- don't come to me with your weaksauce three-day jury duty stories) we used to go by here after the court session ended and gorge ourselves on dumplings.

I highly suggest the boiled chicken and mushroom dumplings, but stay away from the shrimp and chives (no flavor). The fried pork ones are always good and only $1.25 for 5 large dumplings -- it's like they're giving them away.

But there's also much to be said for getting an order to go* on a weekend and taking it across the street to Columbus Park and watching a soccer game** or the older women practicing Tai Chi. It's a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

* - You don't want to eat in the restaurant. I mean, you _could_ eat inside the restaurant, you just don't want to.

** - Don't sit behind the goal -- they're not very good and you're more than likely going to get beaned in the head.

If you like really good beer, this is the kind of place that you'd take the L to, or the G, in the way that anything worth doing is worth putting a considerable effort into. Y'know, like losing weight through liposuction might be good in the short term, but you'll feel so much better about it if you've actually eaten your vegetables to get there.

If you like really good beer, the fact that not much in Spuyten Duyvil is less than $7 or $9 per bottle, with many of their far-ranging choices in fact being much more expensive than that, will not put you out too much knowing that you're paying for, and receiving, the good stuff. With Flemish, Italian, Japanese and even U.S. beers, the bottled beer selection (complete with appropriate glassware) and a healthy six - eight beers on tap will satisfy any serious beer aficionado. If you don't like beer straight up, they also have two ciders and a selection of wine to go with either conversation or some of the small food selections they have. Or both!

If you like really good beer, you'll make your way out here in the summer to share in, and savor, the beautiful outdoor environs in the rear which shows up much more "collegiate backyard" than "beer garden seating locale". Though not as useful in the winter, it looks like the best kind of place to spend a Summer Sunday afternoon, discussing Proust and Kierkegaard while commenting on the hoppy aromas wafting in the warm air.

If you like really good beer, you'll overlook the narrow back area inside that houses the only really effective place to put a group, accepting of  the jukebox that juts out from in between the bathrooms like some inane alt-music-playing Peter Griffin forcing people to get up close and personal on their way through. Or queuing up for the bathrooms, neither of which are marked with a "Men" or "Women" (or Blokes or Sheilas, or whatever kitschy nomenclature you'd like to use) in the hopes that someone is, in fact, still in there and not that you're just randomly waiting outside a closed door.

If you like good beer, this is a great place for you.

But if you're like me, and Coors Light and a plate of wings is perfectly acceptable, then Spuyten Duyvil doesn't seem like the place you're looking for (and, likely, they're not looking for you).

I'm never not gonna give an Elite event five stars, because the work that Peter D. (and the entire Yelp crew, Jane, Miriam and everyone else included) put in is incredibly appreciated -- and let's be honest, you've got to feed the Peter D. ego a little otherwise we're not going to get the full effect of his awesomeness.*

That said, what makes these events great are the people. Thanks to the new Julies, M. and K., for not noticing that Ethan C. and I were surreptitiously putting the balls in with our hands** and for kicking my ass at ping pong. Thanks to Lisa. A. for "letting" me win at air hockey, and continuing my tradition of awesomeness*** that started at Club Hell in Chapel Hill, Abby and Jonathan G. for being the Stadler and Waldorf of my evening, Rod for bringing the Donut Plant doughnuts****, Natasha for welcoming me so graciously and Preeti for bringing me her extra Jameson and Ginger Ales*****.

All in all, I had a blast, even with the overenthusiastic DJ and the Zog Sports folks who came in at the end to steal all the extra food. Did those leechers even write a review?

Lamesauce.

* - That's good for one free drink at the next event.

** - Nah, that doesn't sound dirty at all.

*** - Second time in one review I've used that word; yay for me.

**** - Seriously, my waistline begs you, stop doing that.

***** - That she absolutely was not drinking. Nope.

Cara's pumpkin whoopie pies are still the best thing I've put in my mouth in the last two months.

One of the new marketing strategies for bars in the South Slope is building their den of alcohol-infused iniquity is to generate some hype by announcing the bar will be opening, let it sit dormant for a few months while you work out all the legal haranguing required to open a bar in New York, let locals walk by dejected because this awesome-looking bar isn't open, and then surprisingly open just when we're sure it will never happen.

It's gold, Jerry.

Such is the case for the Black Horse Pub, who used this effective marketing strategy to entice customers for the last few months, slowly building a buzz that resulted in packed houses the first few nights after it opened last week.

The first thing you'll notice is how big the space is -- the way the light works, it doesn't look nearly as big from the outside as it does once you're in the doors. There are great seats next to the windows that extend almost a quarter of the way down the block and then wrap around onto 16th St., giving it that 1994 coffee house feel that everyone so loved in Singles.* Plus, the ceilings are really high, meaning you never feel claustrophobic, even when the bar is crowded.

There are a few tables right in front of the entrance, with a row of two and four tops down the left side of the space. The bar occupies the right side of the area and has hooks under it for hanging your coat or purse, though they could probably use a few more. Considering we were there on opening weekend, and during the day when it was less crowded, I felt it ok for me to start making recommendations and asking for my favorite additions, including a foot rail which the owner assured us was in the works. I need a foot rail, man ... some of us just have short legs.

They have 16 beers on tap, all for $5 except for Delerium and Guinness, which are $6 each (a completely fair price if you ask me). Bar snacks are coming as soon as the kitchen opens but one of their highlights will be the full English you can get weekend mornings when you're rolling in at 8 am to watch Fulhamerica take on whatever English powerhouse they're doing battle with this week. It's a Brit-lovers dream.

The rest of the bar is sparsely decorated, as you might imagine, with a majority of the artwork dedicated to their favorite bands -- Massive Attack, the Clash, the Smiths ... well, you get the idea. And while you're likely to get sound for the morning and afternoon footie matches, it's going to be music at night (which, the night I was there, was a bit of an odd mix of upbeat dance music -- not bad but not what I was expecting).

Just an excellent, friendly place which is as close as I've found to a local since I moved out here. I reserve the right to up this to five stars once the menu comes out.

* - I'd like to move to 1994 Seattle as soon as we get that time machine thing worked out.

It's dark, really dark.

The kind of dark that encourages you to feel your way along the patrons at the bar, conveniently located to the right, with the little light available beamed intently from the may-or-may-not-be-working jukebox on the left as you make your way to the back and what you hope are the bathrooms.

The kind of dark that encourages you to saddle up to a sad, no-television-displaying bar during happy hour (from 3-8 with $1 off everything) and down your $3 Bud Lights as you drink your way into the light.

The kind of dark that encourages you to bring a date to the back, even darker area to perform nefarious and sinful acts that certainly would have the preacher casting you to the eternal pits of damnation. But acts that certainly are a lot of fun, and always more exciting done semi-publicly in a dark bar.*

The kind of dark that encourages you to ignore the oscillation in music volume, yelling over the egregiously loud songs and whispering during the song breaks while taking a moment to acknowledge that the bartender does indeed know who Massive Attack is and they're not just that group who "wrote the theme song to House." Sure, it'd be better on a first date to be able to hear your companion over a rather small table that just happens to be under a speaker** but sometimes trying to guess if the next song is going to blow your eardrums out or if it's going to end so that you're shouting "and then he told me he had just wasted twenty minutes on me"*** when you totally didn't want to focus on that is actually a fun game.

So, what I'm saying, is that this bar is dark.

* - Not that I did this, I'm just saying you could.

** - Always scope the bar out first and make sure you're not under the speaker if you have any desire to really listen to what your date is saying.

*** - That, unfortunately, did happen.

You know where you're going to go for food after midnight in the Financial District? Harry's.

Why? Because there isn't another damn thing open.

I mean, it helps that this is a classy place, one you could bring a date and have it not seem out of place. That wasn't why I was there, but it helped give the appropriate feeling that I was somehow worked in one of those important jobs like a banker or, er, a banker or, well, a banker, which I imagine are the types of people that usually come to a place like Harry's.

The first thing I noticed were the large marble tabletops in the front, separating the bar on the right from the seating area on the left. Everything was very, very clean and polished, with dark wood tones highlighted by gold accessories. The bar was half full, and the seating area closed, but they still played Frank's version of New York, New York when the Yankees downed the Halos.

The food at that point in the evening was all pizza, and the very nice waitress (I think her name was Sydney), talked us into the medium when all we really needed was the small.* They had a pitcher of beer/pizza combo for $25 (I think it's a late-night only offering) that we didn't take her up on, but because we were so nice, she gave us free shots of whatever the bartender had extras of. In fact, she also talked me into ordering chocolate cake shots (for the life of me I can't remember what's in it, other than you licked a sugary lemon when done).

The pizza is big and flat, the neopolitan style you're familiar with and we got the meaty version, with pepperoni and mushrooms which turned out to be very good. The red wine wasn't bad, but it's nothing to write home about it.

That said, this place was good, fun and exactly what we needed late at night. It gets the extra star for having a friendly wait staff** and for being the only place open to serve us food late at night.

* - Only 50 cents more but twice the pizza to take home when we couldn't come close to finishing it all.

** - They were literally dancing around to Train's 'Hey, Soul Sister' at one point.