“Your new review is a great addition to Google. Contributions like this help others make decisions about the things worth doing and the places worth seeing.” I received this message after posting my first Google review. It was for a small restaurant I had popped into, despite not finding it while searching for lunch options in the area on Google Maps. The spot was empty, but the food was delicious and the service excellent. According to the waitress, the restaurant struggled to get the word out and she believed that their lack of presence on Google may have been a contributing factor. In solidarity, I submitted my review, but reading Google’s response, I felt frustrated—why is Google the arbiter of what is worth doing and the places worth seeing? Are contributions to the platform really helping others know what’s worthy, or just spotlighting what gets the most attention?
Despite my misgivings, I admit to spending an exorbitant amount of time on Google Maps each time I travel or make plans with friends. So, on a recent Friday night when I needed to decide where to hole up for post-work drinks with a coworker, I immediately pulled up Google Maps. Within minutes of zooming in on the East Village, I came upon The York, which currently claims a 4.9 star rating and 129 reviews. My heartbeat quickened when I saw that they had a happy hour that included a smash burger, fries, and a PBR for just $13. I quickly texted a friend who lives near The York, someone I’d already polled for bar ideas multiple times, to see if he knew about it and would recommend it as a good spot to stop by for a beer. Within minutes, he replied, admitting that he was a regular there: “It’s the best!” he said, before adding “I go all the time!” and the final gut punch, “Don’t write about it tho. I don’t want it blowing up more than it already is!”
Erudite bartender
As you enter The York, old school tunes play at just the right volume, at least a few customers are likely already posted up at the bar, and the menu stands ready to offer a thoughtful selection of affordable beers (Coors Light, 1664 Kronenberg, Reissdorf Kolsch, etc.) and wines (ranging from a Slovenian orange wine to a Chilean rosé). The pub is decorated in browns, dotted with tea candles and stained glass hanging lamps, and kept clean and neat, even in the bar’s gravelly backyard. The first time I stopped in, I asked the bartender what made The York unique, and was completely unprepared for the subsequent eloquent monologue on how the bar draws in people representing the best of all walks of life, serves simple food, enables a sense of community, and for its workers, provides a level of autonomy that is less common outside of dive bars. He finished his reply, and I leaned back to finish my glass of chilled red wine thinking, “Damn, I really should have used a recorder for that.”
The York’s comfortable, pub style and atmosphere were created by James Hurst, his wife Kayla Rebentisch, and their business partner Hayden Tobin. Hurst’s background is firmly rooted in the food and drink industry, having spent over a decade living and working in the East Village. When discussing the inspiration for the bar, he began by explaining that he and his friends were once regulars at a neighborhood Irish bar, where they’d found a strong sense of community. While many bars in Manhattan have focused on craft cocktails, extensive wine lists, or TikTok-worthy “experiences” in the past few years, Hurst describes The York as something a bit more “obvious”: “A few years ago, there weren’t a lot of places doing that. It was really high end or a diver bar—there was nothing in between, so we wanted to help bridge that gap and offer a good spot where you could spend less than 40 bucks.” The food menu includes options like chicken fingers, Brussels sprouts, and onion rings for a reasonable price, and The York’s wine program, which Hurst describes as “really good,” while “not necessarily trying to broaden your horizons,” has glasses starting as low as $11.
For Hurst and his partners, it was also important to prioritize their regulars, many of whom are from the neighborhood, rather than drawing visitors via an online presence. On a recent weekday evening, I chatted with: a former journalist who lives in StuyTown and stops in on rare occasions for the “beautiful vibe” and burger deal; a punk-ish middle-aged couple who came upon it thanks to friends of friends and now stop in “too often”; the administrator of a dermatology department who read it about it on EV Grieve and now stops in a couple of times a week; and an older British gentleman in a black knit docker cap who lives down the road part-time and had heard about it from people in his building. The older gentleman noted that he wasn’t a true regular; he lives in Woodstock but takes trips into the city for medical reasons, and occasionally stops in for a Guinness and smash burger to eat while reading his Kindle: “I just need something to eat. My wife’s upstate.”
All of these visitors had found The York without Google’s help, though some did note the pub’s increasing popularity, especially later in the evening when it can be hard to find a spot at the bar. Given the bar’s significant success, it may be that we need a second The York—a New York, if you will. No matter what it’s called, its popularity confirms that many are drawn to the more simple, affordable local pub where you can still get to know the bartender and order a meal without breaking the bank. In the meantime, Hurst and his partners are bent on making sure they can do a good job providing the basics, no matter what the Google reviews and TikTok videos say: “We’re not trying to be a line out the door kind of place. We don’t want to be a flash in the pan. We want to be here for 10 years or more.”
The York, 186 Avenue B, East Village, (646) 998-4138, open til 2 am
