Tuesday, March 23, 2010


81 Ludlow St (btw Delancey & Broome)
New York, NY 10002
(212) 667-0067

This marks Visceralist's first review of an NYC bar that we haven't been to yet. Not for lack of trying, mind. It's just that their door policy is wack than one of Denise Huxtable's Gordon Gartrelle knockoffs. SMH. Didn't matter if Visceralist went with our mans'n'em or a jumpoff, we got shut down like your office computer during Xmas break. Now, granted, it may not be fair to review a bar based mostly on assumptions, their website and Yelp reviews...but Visceralist thinks it's equally as unfair for a bar to turn people away for reasons that are specious at best and triflin at worst. That said...

Bathroom situation
- apparently two solo unisex drop-spots in back. This place is wild cozy, so this probably suffices. This place somehow cultivated a rep last year of being the east side's Beatrice Inn. Now, generally, Visceralist avoids the whole "This The New" kerfuffle cuz it's stupid (case in point: everyone thought Scarlett Johansson was the business for a while...then Christina Hendricks came through on some Betty Boop shit), so we won't comment on the cool-cache aspect, but if we're to compare Chloe to Beatrice as goes their respective, shall we say (if we may put this delicately), tolerance for people doing coke in the restrooms...[ed. our counsel won't let us finish this sentence].
Takes credit cards? - Not to give Yelp too much credit, but they say this place takes credit cards, so we'll agree with that. For now.
Crowded on weekends? - the bouncers would have you believe it's Oh So Packed, but if we wanna deal with reality, then Bjork would have you believe it's Oh So Quiet.
Seating - based on their site there's exactly 5 stools at the bar an roughly 4-5 red faux-pleather booths against the opposite wall.
Neighborhood - the small of the back of the LES.
Pretentious/assholes - (drooling) DEAR GOD YES. We assume. Granted there are places on the LES that are quasi-secret and/or have a tough door policy (shouts out to The Back Room & Milk+Honey), but Chloe goes to the trouble of not only posting two bouncers right outside, but also maintaining a list policy that keeps folks just waiting around at all hours. Even regulars. This essentially functions as a "Hey, we're exclusive!" sign in neon-lights with a dude handing out flyers at the corner that read "If you're reading this, you will not get in to Chloe tonight. Kill yaself!" This doesn't necessarily mean that the people who get in are pricks, but it doesn't help their case.
Cost of Stella -if our defensiveness is at all accurate, prolly like $25-$30 a bottle.
What time people start showing up - no clue, so it's prolly worth pointing out where this place is exactly. The entrance is found down a random stairwell in the middle of the block, just south of UC Lounge (the old Lounge 87). If they're actually letting people in, there'll likely be a bouncer sticking out comme un sore thumb, ice-grillin you if you make eye-contact.
Bartender efficiency - we would say terrible, but this place is apparently rarely more than 75% full, so we'll say slightly-less-than-terrible.
Official Website - available in the intro. The photos on the main page are pretty, but the rest of the site is a big ol' stinky HTML 3.ugh fail. Stick with Yelp. Or Visceralist.
Food? How late -they have a surprisingly eclectic menu on their site, but considering the size of the place, the food is prolly prepared with matches, on top of a matchbox, on top of the chef's knee in a damn cubbyhole in the back. Shit. When was the last time you were in a cubbyhole?
TVs? What's on - prolly reruns of some President signing some historic health care legislation or some shit.
Guy:girl ratio - If any male humans actually get into this place, they prolly got that cheese, cheddar, mozzarella AND the provolone, so you know what the female humans will be doing [ed. this Choose Your Own Adventure review shit ends this week, btw]
Toys - some diamond-encrusted triflin.
Age of clientele - most people here are prolly familiar with Usher, but would have no idea why he now hangs out with that short white kid who looks like a broke Zac Efron.
Space for dancing? - oh fuck yeah...the sign up list for their weekly running-man-off is longer than Justin Beiber's androgynous hair.
Music medium, style & volume - prolly loud, prolly boring...Chloe, hit us up with an invite if you wanna prove us wrong!
Specials or most popular drink - a shot of comeuppance in the next life (fingers crossed).

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