For the past two hundred years, summer in New York has best been spent by the water. “Circumambulate the city,” Melville writes in “Moby-Dick,” and you’ll find “thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries.” It’s true: all stripes of New Yorkers (not just men, Herman!) amble along the city’s promenades, eyes fixed on the water’s rippling surface. Frequently—and here’s another thing Melville didn’t mention—a good number of these coastal strollers have a refreshing drink in hand. Back then, maybe a hip flask with a dram of whiskey; now, you’re more likely to see a canned cocktail or brown-bagged beer. It’s no surprise, then, that with the arrival of summer also comes a wealth of seaside watering holes, from beachy burger shacks to boat bars.
Perhaps the oldest of these is Frying Pan, a cherry-red, hundred-and-thirty-foot vessel that the Coast Guard used, from 1930 to 1965, as a floating lighthouse. Now, however, it remains docked on the Hudson River, near West Chelsea, operating as a full-service bar and restaurant. Recently, one newcomer took in the midtown skyline as he feasted on a steak sandwich: a mouthwatering stack of rib eye, caramelized onions, horseradish aioli, and ciabatta. Afterward, he sauntered over to the beer garden and sampled the saccharine Mermaid’s Nectar, a hibiscus-tea mocktail mixed with guava purée and lime. To his starboard side, a group of frat guys had ordered a bucket of Heinekens and were starting their Friday night early.
