Shortly after I had been offered my own column (Drinking with Katherine) in this newspaper, I told some of my friends and family about it. Punctuation was lacking in their replies, as it often is via text, but enthusiasm was not: “Oh my god Katherine that’s perfect,” “THIS IS AMAZING NEWS,” and simply “10000000%.” My mother was also supportive, though her interpretation of Drinking with Katherine did not completely align with my own: “That’s great! It’s about hydration.” Ultimately, though, her guess as to what my column’s focus would be was as good as mine.
And so, I began to rummage for inspiration. Always a diligent student, I began my research on potential angles for the column by Googling “famous columns,” only to find myself staring at images of the Marcus Aurelius Column in Rome and Venice’s Column of St. Theodore. Even after tailoring my search, the articles I found failed to inspire. Besides requesting that each article feature a bar in lower Manhattan and suggesting a bar to start with (Sophie’s on East 5th Street between Avenue A and Avenue B), my editor left me with no further directions. The only follow-up emails I received from him were reminders about the looming deadline and requests to join his Rotary club in its upcoming volunteer events. I couldn’t help but wonder: what did readers really want to learn about lower Manhattan’s bar scene?
Sophie’s stands out in the East Village as a neighborhood bar—the type of place you can feel comfortable in no matter your age (as long as you’re over 21) or your budget (a single beer can be as little as $5). It’s dimly lit, the menu is written in chalk, cash is strongly preferred (there’s a $20 credit card minimum), and they have beer and shot combos; and yet, it’s not quite a dive bar considering just how cozy and well-cared for it remains.
As an urban planner moonlighting as a writer, I dug into the history of the bar and its layout. The bar counter itself is smooth from years of patrons’ forearms resting on it, and it is connected to the liquor shelves behind it–the bar equivalent of a built-in bookcase–which gives it a vaguely “old Europe” appearance. Everyone from Grub Street to Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York and, probably most famously, Anthony Bourdain has featured Sophie’s over the years. According to their reports, the bar was originally owned by a Ukrainian woman named Sophie Polny. She opened her original establishment around 1914 on Avenue A, then moved it (and its elaborate wooden bar) to its current location. Today, it’s owned, along with Josie’s and Mona’s, by two business partners. Alongside liquor and cocktails, beer options at Sophie’s range from Pabst to Guiness in mug, pint, or pitcher sizes, as well as a range of bottles and cans like Miller High Life ($5) and Dogfish Head ($8). There is no food.
It’s impressive for any business to stick around for decades in NYC, but on further reflection, the bar’s history and layout are not what set it apart. Sophie’s is so pleasant and easy to spend time in because of its rotating cast of cross-generational patrons. Patrons are lured in by multiple seating options (the bar and plenty of tables), music (thanks to a CD jukebox) that’s never too loud, and a pool table that’s almost always in use. On a recent Monday evening, a white-haired woman brought her own billiards cue—she played with strangers while her husband sat at the bar enjoying his drink. Later a group of NYU students dressed as though they’d just stepped out of the ‘90s played a game, and a couple sat side by side at a table, the woman’s legs both draped over her partner’s thigh.
Despite the occasional cad (does not ugliness let us see beauty more clearly?), and its proximity to the adolescent-filled bars surrounding Tompkins Square Park, Sophie’s is a perfect spot to sit alone or to start up a conversation with a stranger. As an extrovert, I have always loved meeting people. On rare occasions, I learn all too quickly that the person and I would have both preferred silence, but in the moments before making any introduction, the air of mystery around strangers feels like potential—potential to find a new friend, a lover (back in my single days), or just an incredible story. Still, it’s not always so easy to start a conversation with a stranger.
On a Friday after work, the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and with the help of a Kona Big Wave pint (or two), I met a pair of friends catching up before dinner nearby; a chef from Brooklyn stopping for a game of pool before a jazz performance at Small’s; a sportscaster enjoying a post-work beer after reading a post about Sophie’s on Instagram; and a Westchester native who now lives in Colombia and was only visiting long enough to renew his visa. Through our conversations I discussed potential hors d’oeuvres for one of their New Year’s Eve parties, the challenges NYC students face to secure a spot in the city’s elite schools, and one man’s hip operation in Argentina (apparently a necessity, given the astronomical cost of healthcare and procedures in the United States). That’s when it struck me—this column would be about what makes each of the bars I visit special, and how that informs the people who spend their time there.
For most bar patrons, bars aren’t about drinking and getting drunk. They’re about leaving one’s private space to be a bit closer to their fellow man, even if that just means the bartender. At a time when we’re still recovering from the pandemic in some ways and when politics are more divisive than ever, bars are places where a drink and a new perspective, in the form of a stranger’s opinions or what’s on their mind, can help us feel a bit more connected. Next time you’re feeling down—whether it’s a bad day or just the news—I recommend making a visit to someplace like Sophie’s, where you could meet someone from almost any stage of life, and chatting up a stranger, even if it’s just about whether or not they will have enough pigs in a blanket for their upcoming party.
Have an idea for a future bar to feature? Send your recommendations to [email protected].
