The 19th Century Pub Crawl a Great Success!

Downing the Original 1864 House Ale at Pete’s Tavern. Photo by Ilana Kohn.

I am pleased to report that the 19th Century Pub Crawl was a rousing success! Over forty people turned out and we covered five bars, from E 4th st. to E 55th. A small group even made it all the way to PJ Clark’s.

We were a motley crew, all ages and backgrounds, brought together by our mutual love of history. Additionally, there were some impressively costumed ladies sporting full 19th century garb, corsets and all. A couple fine gals even came straight from their jobs as historic interpreters at Old Bethpage Village. I don’t think a more convivial group could be found anywhere on the streets of New York that night.

We began our crawl at Swift, a modern bar whose decor and cocktail menu are inspired by the writings of Jonathon Swift. I tried one the bar’s original cocktails, the Captain Gulliver, a combination of Jameson, Ginger beer, and lemon. I had wanted to try the ginger beer, which is so 19th century, but it was non-alcoholic. This cocktail was the perfect solution.

Left: The Captain Gulliver

Next I led the group to McSorely’s, who have been serving their light and dark house brew since their establishment in 1854. The light beer allegedly tastes like cream soda. I ended up not going in: McSorely’s is a cornerstone of drinking at NYU, so the bar was already packed by the time we arrived at 6:30. Half of the crawl decided to stop in, and met up with us later, while the rest of us continued to our third stop, Pete’s Tavern.

Pete’s is also known for the house brew they have served up since 1864. It looks like a dark beer, but tastes like Miller Light. This beer marked a definite turn in my sobriety and in the sobriety of my cohorts.

The interior was beautiful, the bartender gracious, and the staff incredibly tolerant of our drunken antics. I’d stop in Pete’s any day.

Next, we headed down the street to nearby Old Town Bar. At this point, we were famished, so several of us gorged ourselves on the bar’s delicious burgers and fries. I also sent my friend Marc to gather reconnaissance in the men’s bathroom. The marble urinals, “made by Hinsdale in 1910,” are impressive enough that Old Town mentions them on their website. The tavern’s dumbwaiter is also the oldest one operating in the city, and pretty cool to see in action.
Right: The infamous urinals. Overall, a beautiful bathroom.

Lastly, we grabbed a cab and headed uptown to our final destination: PJ Clark’s. After gorging ourselves (again) on a plate of onions rings so crispy they taste like green bean casserole, I noticed that they had an oyster bar. I was thrilled. “How Victorian!” I squealed. In every period source and novel I have read, haughty men are slurping down bivalves by the plateful.

I’d never had an oyster before, so I ordered one for myself and one for Marc. To be honest, I was expecting something squishy and revolting, and misery loves company. We loaded up with condiments and sucked them down, and were surprisingly not disgusted. They just tasted like salt. Or maybe I was wasted.

The spread at PJ Clark’s.

Eating my first oyster. I look enthused.

My evening ended by climbing into a cab bound for Queens. Upon arriving home, I left a trail of my clothing and personal items from my front door to my bed, where I promptly passed out. The next morning, I felt as though I had been struck by a moving carriage. If this were the 19th century, I’d be one step away from McGurk’s.

To see more photos from the event, swing by our group on Flickr here. And if you’re a Flickr member, and attended the event, feel free to add your own photos to our group pool.

We’re already planning another crawl this spring, following the bars on Manhattan’s west side that formerly served the harbor’s sailors, seamen, and other rugged sorts. And is New York the only city where a woman can wear an 1860’s dress with punk-red hair and not be looked at twice? We’re going to find out, because we’re bringing the Crawl to Boston. Stay tuned for more news.

Save the Date: The 19th Century Pub Crawl

Are you in New York? Do you like history? Do you like alcohol? Then put this on your calendar:


Come join us for a full night of nineteenth-century debauchery at several of New York City’s oldest bars and most notorious dens of vice.

We will meet promptly at 5 PM in front of the Merchant’s House Museum (29 East 4th Street). Our evening will commence at Swift, then proceed to Death & Company; McSorely’s Old Ale House; Pete’s Tavern; Old Town Bar; Keen’s Steakhouse; and, should we still possess the fortitude and sobriety, P.J. Clarke’s.

Stay tuned for more details…

History Dish Mondays: Lemon Ice Cream

I’m planning an Ice Cream Social for the late spring, possibly to coincide with the Kentucky Derby. So I wanted to begin testing out a few ice cream recipes, and I decided to use the menu for Lincoln’s second inaugural banquet as a reference. Because if it was good enough for Lincoln, it’s good enough for me!

Lincoln’s guests were treated to Burnt Almond Ice Cream, which is built around a caramel base; Maraschino ice cream; and Lemon ice cream, which my friend Eva at the Merchant’s House Museum tells me was one of the most popular ice creams in the 19th century. I’ll be trying all of these, along with two modern creations (Cashew Cookie Dough and Chai Tea) and a frozen Mint Julep inspired by Jerry Thomas’ original julep recipe.

But first, Lemon Ice Cream. The recipe is as simple as can be. I made only a small amount, but this recipe can be multiplied to suit your needs.

1 pint cream
1/2 cup sugar
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
Add the sugar to the cream, a little at a time, and mix until combined. Grate the zest of one lemon into the cream mixture, being careful not to add any of the bitter, white pith. Juice the lemon and add to the cream, mix to combine.

Let the mixture sit in the refrigerator for an hour or more to steep. I let mine sit overnight. Pour to mixture through a fine sieve or cheesecloth to remove the lemon zest. Pour into an ice cream maker, and let it freeze for about 15 minutes. Be careful not to over mix, or you’ll get frozen lemon butter. I like ice cream straight from the ice cream maker; the texture is similar to soft serve. But it is generally suggested that it should harden in the freezer for at least an hour before serving.

Left: The mixture of cream, sugar and lemon steeps. Right: Coming out of the ice cream maker. I left it in a little too long and it got a little buttery, but it was still good.

Rating: A+ This was easy to make and Delicious. Refreshing and smooth, this would be really enjoyable on a summer day. But it’s very, very rich–it is pure cream, so a little goes a long way.

History Dish Mondays: The Bone of the Potato

While doing research for the upcoming event at the Merchant’s house, I came across an interesting account of how Irish immigrants in the mid-century cooked potatoes:

“We have all wondered why our Irish servants persist in bringing half-boiled potatoes to the table, notwithstanding our repeated orders to the contrary. Dr. James Johnson, in his tour in Ireland, discovered that it was almost a universal custom among the poor of the country, to only half boil their potatoes, leaving the center so hard, that it is called the bone of the potato.” (Breakfast, Dinner and Tea, Viewed Classically, Poetically, and Practically, 1859)

“…I have since read further descriptions of ‘potatoes with a bone’ as early as 1812. The preference developed in hard times, for the undercooked potato was harder to digest, and seemed to stop hunger for a longer time.” (The American History Cookbook, Mark H. Zanger, 2003)

Essentially, the Irish way of making a potato is grossly under cook them. In addition to Zanger’s theory that the raw potatoes staved off hunger, it seems even more logical that by boiling the potatoes for half the time, they were also using half the fuel for their fires. It seems the Irish developed a taste for the half-raw potatoes, and brought the tradition with them to America. Irish women were often hired as cooks for American households; potatoes with the bone in did not go over well with their mistresses. The appropriate way of preparing vegetables in the 19th century was to boil them to a mush–up to three hours for fresh veggies.

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Potatoes with the Bone In

Modern Recipe from The American History Cookbook by Mark Zanger

1. Peel potatoes.

2. Put whole potatoes in a pot with water to cover by one inch and one tablespoon salt.

3. Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer with lid off or ajar.

4. After 15 minutes, begin testing by pushing a fork into the center of a potato. When it goes in halfway and meets a hard part, the “bone,” the potatoes are ready.

**

Zanger suggests this would have been eaten with a cup of milk; a meal I’m familiar with from my Tenement Diet days. A starch and some protein will fill you up.

Rating: D. It’s actually not as bad as I expected them to be; but it tastes pretty “green.” Like a raw potato.

Fear not, however. There will be plenty cooked food to eat tonight as well. I have four perfect cider cakes and a pot of spiced carrot soup for the event tonight, as well as some mid-19th century cocktails up my sleeve.