If you were wondering what would take up residence in the prime nearly-park-side real estate that is 595 Union Avenue, you haven’t had to wait long. Yesterday, The McCarren opened its doors to the public in the space that was formerly home to Thief.
The McCarren is positioned as both a sports bar and casual cocktail joint, offering McGuinness pours, crafted cocktails like a tequila-based Jalisco Sunrise and whiskey- and fruit-forward Apple Never Falls (among others), and all the classics in equal measure. A bit of Irish flair is also sprinkled throughout.
The food menu also borrows some favorites from the Emerald Isle, like an Irish Toastie Special featuring Kerrygold butter and served with Taytos, or Irish jambons (a ham and cheese pastry). But there’s also more standard bar fare like flatbreads, mozzarella sticks, a burger, and wings.
Bar and multi-event streaming venue (including Phish concerts!) Thief closed its doors on September 20 after four years in the corner spot. The Miracle holiday pop-up that took over the space annually will be transforming Vacations in Bushwick this year.
Yes indeed, just what we need. Yet another bar. As in Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar) by Bertolt Brecht, as adapted by Kurt Weill, and a later version sung by the Doors: Show me the way to the next whisky bar Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why Show me the way to the next whisky bar Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why For if we don’t find the next whisky bar I tell you we must die I tell you we must die I tell you I tell you I tell you we must die Oh, moon of Alabama We now must say say good-bye We’ve lost our good old mamma And must have whisky Oh, you know why. Show me the way to the next pretty girl Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why Show me the way to the next pretty girl Oh don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why For if we don’t find the next pretty girl I tell you we must die I tell you we must die I tell you I tell you I tell you we must die Show me the way to the next little dollar Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why Show me the way to the next little dollar Oh, don’t ask why, oh, don’t ask why For if we don’t find the next little dollar I tell you we must die I tell you we must die tell youI tell you I tell you we must die Oh, moon of Alabama We now must say good-bye We’ve lost our good old mamma And must have dollars Oh, you know why…