Bed-Stuy Pub Crawl: Round Three

A pub crawl in Bed-Stuy??!!
Yes, we’ll agree that the neighborhood’s bars are indeed few and far between, and getting to those bars can often require much more effort than a mere “crawl.” But those slightly burned out, neon “Miller High Life” signs that flicker sporadically in the twilight do exist in Bed-Stuy, and there are a few unmarked, black metal doors in the ‘hood that lead to genuine bar stools and alcohol, so your cocktail-quaffing, BSB scribes— The Changeling and Inquisigal— will to walk through those doors (if we can find them) and report back to all of you about just what kind of experience you can expect to have in some of the bars and lounges around the neighborhood.

The rules: We pick a place, we go there as regular, anonymous customers, and sample the goods. We hang out for a couple of hours, chat with the bartender and other customers, and try to get an overall feel for the joint.

The destination: Amarachi Lounge, 325 Franklin Avenue, between Clifton Place and Greene Avenue, at the corner of Clifton Place

Time: 8:30PM, on a Thursday night, July 2008, 6:30PM on a Thursday night, May 2009.

The conversation:

Inquisigal: So, I’m not entirely sure what to make of this place. I pass it all the time, and the name always makes me think maybe it’s some sort of hookah bar that serves Indian or Middle Eastern-style food. But now that we’re standing across the street from it, and there’s this huge, plastic banner hanging over the doorway, announcing a wide array of entertainment, from Hot Monday Carib Style and Salsa Tuesdays, to Karaoke Wednesdays, as well as birthday celebrations and baby showers, I’m less intrigued, and now just plain baffled.

We walk across the street and linger in front of the door for a beat.

The Changeling: I’m going to give it a chance, because I’m liking Amarachi’s rules that they have posted in the window. The sign says “No durags, 23 and older.” I’m all down for a durag-free zone.

Inquisigal: Is there even anybody inside this place?

We plaster our noses against the front window, trying to get a glimpse inside of what appears to be a small, dark space. All of a sudden, the door to the lounge opens, and a guy in his early 30’s beckons us to come in.

Guy: Ladies, are you here to join us this evening? Come on in!

We tentatively step inside, adjust our eyes to a darker setting, and amble over to the bar. It’s hard not to notice that there are not one, not two, not even three TV sets positioned on walls and shelves flanking the bar— but 6 TV sets, all turned on and tuned into a basketball game. Being a couple of dames who’s prime reason for going out is to relax, drink, and chat, we are not digging the TV’s. We look for seats at the far end of the bar, which is about 7 feet long, with perhaps an extra 3 feet curving around on its front side. We find a couple at the very end, but since these are in front of the bar-back loading area, we crane our heads around to see what our other options are.

The Changeling: Man, this place is small!

Owner (chuckling): Well, actually, you’re right and you’re wrong. This is the smallest of three rooms that we have, so why don’t you take a look around and sit where you like?

Inquisigal and The Changeling head to the back of the bar. We are both surprised to see an enormous back room, with a little stage to the left, and a variety of tables and chairs, as well as a huge TV screen. The owner leads us to another room, to the right of the bar area, and we are doubly surprised to find a storefront-length room that is part TV lounge, part game room, part cocktail area.

Inquisigal: Oh, they’ve got a pool table. Let’s hang in here, and maybe once we get a little buzz on, we’ll play some pool.

The Changeling: I can’t get a feel for this room. These two flat screens on either end of the room are a bit disorienting. I like the little table and stools they have here, but it’s got the feel of someone’s poorly thought out rec room.

Inquisigal: Yeah, I’m not quite sure I get it. Look— what’s with that decorative arch thing over on the wall? Is it Indian? Middle Eastern? Islamic? Moorish? And yet over there, we have a dartboard and frat-boy style beer mirrors and sports paraphernalia, flanked by an area where you can play chess. Then, not even a foot away from the chessboard, we’ve got a pool table. What if someone takes a shot and knocks over some chess head’s bishop? Are the chess heads going to rumble with the pool players? And will the people watching TV even notice?

The Changeling: And having three large TV’s that can be tuned to different channels in the same room? This is too chaotic to be enjoyable. Bring on the drinks so that we can try to make sense of all this.

A young lady suddenly appears at our table. She offers us a list of special drinks that include a pomogranite, apple, or peach martini for the recession-friendly low price of $5 each. Though the Changeling is not normally a fan of martinis, she nonetheless immediately chomps at the bit at the mention of a $5 martini, and orders an apple.

The Changeling: Tonight the martini is going to be my drink of choice.

Inquisigal: Can you make a margarita?

Server: Yes.

Our bartender/server says well drinks are $7 each, and top shelf liquor is $10, so Inquisigal goes for the more affordable version, knowing it will probably not be the only drink she consumes that night.

Inquisigal: By the way, can we change the channel or turn down the volume on the TV’s?

Our server hands us a remote control and Inquisigal starts searching for the Tour de France on one of the TV’s (during our first visit last summer). When the server leaves the table, the Changeling can’t stop looking around the room with a scowl on her face. She hops up and reduces the volume on the other TV so that we can watch the Tour.

The Changeling: I wish they’d hurry up with the liquor. This place wants us to like it, but I just can’t bring myself to really care.

Inquisigal: Yeah, on the one hand, I’m glad that we’re getting to watch the bike race, but there’s also something wrong with it. Like, if we were just going to hang out and have a couple of cocktails and watch TV, why would we have left the house? Shouldn’t there be something going on here, some reason that we would be drawn inside to pay for drinks, and to enjoy even the semblance of a vibe?

The Changeling: Vibe? If the absence of a vibe is a vibe, then that’s the vibe they’ve got.

The bartender/server reappears with our drinks and places them in front of us with enthusiasm. Inquisigal thinks to herself that if this bar were actually busy, there would not even be table service. The server waits tableside as we take our first sips.

The Changeling: This apple martini is good.

Inquisigal: Yep, mine’s good too. So, what’s with that room back there that has the stage? Do you you guys have live music here?

The bartender/server explains to us that they do not have live music, but that they have salsa dancing lessons in the back room, and that people can rent the room for parties and bring their own DJ. She also tells us about the various entertainment offered at Amarachi, and dashes away from the table to get us some more info. While she’s gone, The Changeling continues to scowl into her drink.

The Changeling (sighing): At least the drinks are spot on.

Inquisigal: Yeah, but is just the presence of alcohol really enough to get people to go to a bar?

The Changeling: Not in New York City, they’ve got to have an angle.

Inquisigal: Agreed. This place is really sending out mixed messages. Is it a sports bar or a cocktail lounge? It’s such a shame that they’ve got that big back room, and a stage, and yet don’t have live music. They could actually get some people in here if they offered it to bands that could get a crowd moving.

After what feels like hours, the server and the owner who had greeted us earlier return with a plethora of printed material, as well as complimentary jello shots in miniature, plastic wine glasses. The server explains that the owner is from Nigeria and opened the bar four years ago. They present us with postcards bearing information about Nigerian Independence Day, as well as the various entertainment offerings at the Amarachi. They even pull out a magnet with a calendar and the address of the bar, telling us to tell our friends about the space. Once they finally leave the table, Inquisigal and the Changeling exchange sad looks.

The Changeling: I really feel bad, and this is a first— I never feel bad at the end of a night of drinking. This place is really working hard to get our business, but it’s just missing something. The only way to have a good time here is to bring the party with you. I’m sorry to say, you can’t come here looking for fun.

Inquisigal: Yeah, is it because it’s empty? Is it because we’re being inundated by the TV’s? Or is it because it’s just not our type of place?

Our rating system: A scale of 1 to 5 frothy mugs of beer, 5 being excellent

Ambience: There were two completely discordant vibes going on in the Amarachi. One was the sight and sound assault of so many TV sets turned on, while also being accompanied by nightclub-style house music in the tiny, front main bar. Then, if you retreat to the in the pool-table room, there’s the eerie absence of background noise that would normally accompany the presence of other people hanging out and enjoying themselves. The place also smelled like disinfectant. Then there was the rap-tinged house music with the repetitive, bludgeoning lyrics: “There’s some ho’s in this house,” which felt completely wrong for the early hour of 7PM on a weekday. In the early evening hours, when you’re looking to chill out after work and relax with a cocktail, how could we possibly do that when the environment being created seemed to want to transport us to 3AM after a night of serious drinking and partying? We would’ve given anything for a more mellow soundtrack— reggae, Brazilian-jazz, lounge-style electronica— anything but: “There’s some ho’s in this house, there’s some ho’s in this house….”

Service: Due to their signage out front, the Amarachi made it clear that it did not welcome the be-duragged, immature set. We appreciated that. The owner was extremely welcoming, and our bartender was friendly, knowledgeable, and efficient. She answered all of our questions and they did give us the free Jello shots.

Decor: The visual aesthetic of the Amarachi is all over the place. There’s no real theme, and this was especially frustrating because the name, Amarachi, and the Islamic flourishes here and there, might lead you to believe that you’re going to enter an exotic, interestingly decorated space. But then you look at the industrial grey carpeting, non-distinct furniture, sports paraphernalia, and the thousand flatscreen TV’s, dart board, and pool tables and wonder “What the hell?”

Selection: When we came in, it appeared as if the bar was well stocked. Inquisigal inquired if there was any wine served by the glass, and was pleasantly surprised to hear that they offered a glass of Riesling, as well as the more standard glass of Chardonnay. The drink specials were a great value, and the drinks were well concocted.

Location: Inquisigal and the Changeling somewhat disagreed on the convenience and location of the Amarachi, so we settled on a 3. The Changeling thought that even though it is near the Bedford-Nostrand G train stop, the strip seemed dead, especially at night when you’d be patronizing this place. Inquisigal thought it was a good location, both because the Amarachi is within crawling distance from 3 other bars on Franklin Avenue (Franklin Palace, Sweet Revenge, and the Tip Top), and the somewhat industrial corner that the Amarachi sits on means that the bar could be raucous and noisy and get away with it. They could even open a yard, or a spot on the sidewalk for smokers and actually create a destination.

Overall rating:

Of all of the Pub Crawl entries, Amarachi is the only one that we visited twice. The reason was that we wanted to make sure when we gave these ratings that we didn’t accidentally catch them on an off night. The first time we visited in July of 2008, it was rainy, and we thought that the rain may have scared some of the patrons away. We visited again this month, and our feelings about the place have basically remained the same. We feel that the Amarachi fails at being a comfortable place to hang out at if you’re looking for a laid back, neighborhood experience.

We do wonder if our low ratings for this place are due to our biases. One issue might be our age— we tend to go out earlier (say, after work for happy hour, or earlier in the evening, at 9PM), and are not looking for a nightclub experience (Inquisigal’s ears are fried from having worked for 5 years as a coat checker at the Roxy). For all we know, the Amarachi could be hoppin’ in the wee hours. Have any of you been there later on? For any events? Any suggestions for how they might expand their business?

Check back with Inquisigal and The Changeling in June for their next bar review in the Bed-Stuy Pub Crawl!