Slaughtering Lambs

To continue on the theme of horror movies, I would like to mention a little pub (or bar as they like to call them here) a stones throw from the Christopher street Path station on the corner of Barrow and Jones. Its THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB. This bar was introduced to us last week by Scott who then took us to the Jekyll and Hyde themed restaurant (it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience - the animatronic shows and actorial distractions must be witnessed for their sheer B grade tackiness). We were so impressed by the pub that we returned on Saturday for a bottle of Witchwood Breweries Scarecrow (a tasty Golden Pale Ale) that unfortunately turned out to be much more expensive than we expected by enjoyed nonetheless.

The denizens of THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB are the usual mob you would find in any American bar, but it is the cramped little pub that makes the experience the most enjoyable. When I say cramped, I am exaggerating - there is not that much space. If the door to the gents bathroom is left slightly ajar the door to the ladies becomes wedged and vice versa. Its quite a delightful little bar to spend an afternoon drinking and watching people walking up and down one of West Villages side streets. It is completely wooden paneled, dark, low ceilinged, and every nook and cranny is festooned with little collectible memorabilia such as bobsleds, cricket bats, old bottles and the like.

Cricket bats? May well you be shocked! As Scott pointed out, this may be the only bar in New York that contains a cricket bat. But why?

For those horror buffs out there. They will have twigged at the name of the bar. Yes, that's right, THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB is the name of the lone pub standing on the misty Yorkshire moors in the movie AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON. To that effect, movie posters and scene photographs can be found in the pub in the most unlikely places. The wonderful part about the pub in the movie for those with a good memory, is that Rik Mayall plays a drunken and surly Yorkshireman who warns the hero about the evil menace that prowls the moors at night.

Moving on from the bar we get to American beer. Unfortunately, like American coffee, it is quite terrible. About the best you will find is Millers draft, everything else leaves much to be desired on the palate. This would explain why everyone drinks Coronas here, even though it is a second rate Mexican beer. We managed to find a fairly decent pale ale on tap called Blue Moon, but in keeping with American's inability to make a decent drop its brewed in Canada.
What I wouldn't give for a nice pint of Cascade Pale.