Winging It


Here is the conundrum: hate sports bars, love sports bar food. For the promise of one truly succulent jalapeño popper, we’ll occasionally enter these places—Monday Night Football be damned. We can’t help it. No one else seems to know the value of a half-off buffalo wing in this town. Fortunately for us, Villedge Publick House (note: real “ye olden time” spelling) near the Bowery is one of those rare spots that’s made for a sports enthusiast, but tempered for the hater. Three flat-screen televisions flank the main bar area—but note the reasonable size of those screens, and the fact half the room isn’t eaten up with images of instant Green Bay Packer replays. A backyard area under a big white tent is there for escapees; there’s also a basement with a private-viewing banquette for those who need to conduct their male bonding in private. Lest the halftime festivities not thrill you as much as the rest of the customers, use that time to browse the extensive beer menu—17 draft, one cask-conditioned keg, and over 30 beers by the bottle, from Guinness to Dogfish Punkin Ale. That’s right, Dogfish “Punkin” Ale, plus bartenders that don’t bat an eye when we hit the free buffet for seconds on wings. It’s hard to hate a sports bar so accommodating to one’s non-sports-related needs.