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Antarctica

287 Hudson Street (Dominick Str and Spring St) Transit: C, E to Spring St; 1 to Houston

(212) 352-1666

Great gimmicks birth great bars, and Antarctica’s got a doozy: Each day a staffer writes down a random first name on the front board, and anyone who walks in with that name drinks free that night. Simple and pretty brilliant, although it requires some enforcement. “We absolutely demand I.D.,” the genial redheaded barkeep told me. “People try to scam me every day.”

Does she allow for spelling variations? For example, the day I was there the posted name was “Phillip.” Would “Philip” be okay? “It would depend on his attitude and the size of his group,” she went on. “If he brought a large, paying, posse I’d let it slide.” Most importantly, she didn’t have to add, remember that “free” does not include gratuity. “Real winners tip!” reads the board.

Even if you’re not named Phillip, or Elsa or Helena or Marley or Ishan or any of the other fairly-obscure winning monikers that pop up there, Antarctica is a low-key, spacious place to kick it between Canal and Houston. It’s the antithesis of nearby Nancy Whiskey Pub, which is crowded, inexpensive, intense and full of weirdos. At Antarctica, a Corona will cost you $6.50, but in return you get an airy, scrubbed facility to lounge in, one with exposed brick and pretty wood plank floors.

The place is considered something of a haven for pool players, if only because it provides sufficient elbow room to actually get off a shot. The extensive house rules state, in part: “Skip shots okay;” “Spotting 8-Ball after scratch okay;” “Peace, love and understanding.” I have no idea what any of that means, but the assembled sharks do. When I was there they were gay and had brought cues from home, carrying them inside leather cases that looked designed to hold shotguns. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion at least one of them was named Phillip.

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