Here I bring you the tale of a sandwich, a pint of Guinness, and a cocktail atop a skyscraper.
Today, we’re catching a midnight flight from New York City to Barcelona. Seizing the opportunity, we opted to take an early flight to NYC and spend the day there. Savannah offers a convenient direct flight to NYC in under 2 hours. So, what do you do? Get yourself to the island, drink a Manhattan, blow a kiss at the Statue of Liberty, eat a slice of pizza, buy some stocks. Do New York things.
We try to do this whenever we get the chance.
I woke up in our Savannah apartment at 7 am, took a refreshing shower, tidied up the house, enjoyed some black tea with a splash of milk and a croissant, grabbed myself a husband, and then happily hopped into an Uber to reach the airport.
Spent a good 30 minutes navigating through JFK, trying to find my way out. Honestly, what’s the deal with this AirTrain? From LaGuardia, it’s a simple bus and a metro like a normal human, but here it’s all about the AirTrain 🤔. An hour and a half later, after a lengthy metro ride, we finally arrived at the financial district of Manhattan. We were supposed to pay for the air train, but strangely they waved the fee for 5 minutes and we just walked right thru the gate onto the metros.
Exiting the metro underground was like a slap in the face. The weather was cold and rainy—quite the change from Savannah’s perfect week of temperature in the 70s without a drop of rain. Gross! I’ve been completely spoiled by the lovely weather. Rain doesn’t bother me, but cold rain without umbrellas… ughhhh.
The quest for a sandwich.
We decided to go find this supposedly amazing Italian sandwich shop, which was a 15-minute walk away—through the cold rain. So yeah… we had problems. Correction: I had problems.
“Honey, where in the F… is this place? Is it really worth it? There’s plenty of food around us. It’s so chilly and WET!!—brrrrrrr. I JUSblow dried my hair too! How much further?” I wouldn’t shut up.
God, I’m such a spoiled brat. You don’t need to tell me—I know it.
He assured me that they serve ginormous Italian sandwiches, and Google personally told him it was THE BEST, so stop my yapping.
He is not wrong.
This place is something else—cash only and a tiny, hole-in-the-wall kind of joint. The tables are minuscule, and the walls are adorned with Italian newspaper clippings. Still a bit disoriented from the rainy walk, I’m not fully attentive. I place an order for their signature sandwich, the ‘Pisillo,’ and a Pellegrino from a guy who exudes 100% Italian authenticity, evident in his thick accent. He’s incredibly nice and welcoming, and then proceeds to hand me the biggest, most stuffed sandwich I’ve ever laid eyes on.
What the…. Really??! This sandwich is under $20, and even sharing, we can barely finish it. It’s DELICIOUS, #26 with all the best ingredients, an explosion of flavors and meats. Also, it’s huge. Suddenly, all my attention is on this sandwich. Nothing else seems to matter; I don’t even bother taking a proper photo. All that matters is this sandwich. As I glance around, I notice photos of Gwyneth Paltrow and Robert De Niro with the owner. This place is apparently famous—a humble, hidden gem. An Italian treasure with its gigantic heavenly sandwich.
As I mentioned, I forgot to snap a photo, so this is all that remains:
I know what you are thinking: That’s one good-looking bite. Why did I devour the sandwich like a ravenous beast before capturing it in a proper photograph? Well, as I mentioned earlier: Me = hungry + Cold + Wet.
So take my word for it and GO GET SOME. Yummm.
Looking for a little rabbit…
Next I really, really needed a walk, rain or not. So, we were inspired to take a 15 minute walk and visit our classic spot: The Dead Rabbit pub 🐇. Happily the rain had subsided a bit.
We’ve visited this place a few times in the past. My husband, being born and raised in Ireland, always seeks out the most Irish things whenever we go to New York.
This bar earned the title of the world’s best bar in 2016 and has since become a true institution in New York City. They serve perfect pints of Guinness and the best Irish coffees you can find. While we’ve mainly frequented the taproom, beyond that lies the parlor, where they serve their exquisite cocktail list that has won them all kinds of awards.
We get there and have a proper pint, an Irish coffee, a look around, another Guinness. They also serve great Irish inspired food! We didn’t get any food, still recovering from our sandwich coma. The bartender seemed a bit stressed, the taproom seemed a little understaffed, and the place starts getting packed. So we pay and continue our quest.
What’s the ultimate quest? Experiencing Overstory… Again.
Looking for a skyscraper for a drink.
As we stroll, we stumble upon ‘The Full Shilling,’ a place I vaguely remember from my birthday celebration last year—described as a classic, cozy drinking establishment with a 101-year-old bar imported from Ireland. We discovered this gem while waiting for a spot at Overstory, just a block away, nestled in the 64th floor of a skyscraper—a breathtaking and slightly terrifying experience. Last year, an Irish bartender was running ‘The Full Shilling,’ immune to my birthday antics, yet we managed to coax him into doing a couple of shots with us. By the time we reached Overstory, we were well beyond buzzed, and a drunk-me decided she was scared of heights.
This time is different. It is not my birthday, so there is not too much recklessness involved. We haven’t been befriending bartenders since 11am and done 65 shots of tequila. We haven’t drank prosecco in the ferry singing “I’m on a boat” by the long islands. We didn’t find a random Negroni bar and pretended we were spies. This time we are sober and all about our Overstory experience.
This time I’m aware I’m visiting one of the world’s best 50 bars.
Memorable bad decisions.
The first time I went to Overstory, I merely sought a rooftop bar where I could look at the Manhattan skyline with a glass of champagne. That was the dream—the pursuit of champagne on a skyscraper rooftop. It was bitterly cold and terrifying on that deck! The view triggered vertigo, and in my inebriation, I couldn’t appreciate the magic and beauty of this place. Yet, Oisin had one of the best cocktails of his life at that bar. The flavors and experience caught him off guard. We had struck gold, and had no idea.
I was way too drunk to even know where the heck I was. Many months later I come to find I visited one of the worlds 50 best bars.
There was a wait… 1.5hrs, again. Last time this wait got us into trouble. We found The full Shilling and had ourselves a little pre-game party. This time we are choosing to behave, to be patient and not let ourselves over indulge before the main course. Yes, we are at the same bar where we made all of our mistakes last year, but this time we are just having a beer.
After that beer we keep walking towards the river with the intention of taking a stroll and find a happy hour with $8 cocktails in lower Manhattan. See how that happens? And Oisin insist on having a Manhattan in Manhattan. He is all about this idea. It’s kind of adorable.
We receive our cocktails and suddenly we get a text, our spots are ready!!! A whole 45 minutes before expected. I down my spicy margarita in record time and we run. We get there, we jump on the elevator and get the vertigo, again. We felt this last time but we’re too drunky to understand what was happening: this elevator gets you from floor 1 to floor 64 in under 2 minutes. Your ears pop, your body shifts, you feel it.
We get there and now the anticipation is real: best cocktails I have ever had, come to mama. we ask about sitting outside… and it is windy and cold and wet. The view is spectacular once again, and very happily my head is not spinning this time. Oisin orders another Manhattan, their “Manhattan Deluxe” to be specific, and I get a tropical tequila cocktail.
We disregard the discomfort of the chilly and rainy weather outside. I mean, come on, gotta take in that view! We order a small cheese board and two cocktails. Our bill tallies close to $100. But who cares? We savor these moments while shivering outside, teetering on the edge. It’s a breathtaking, delicious, and uncomfortable experience. No regrets.
Oisin is not fully impressed. He says the cocktail he had last time was life changing and these cocktails were just ok. They were good, but not life changing.
So we head back inside. and Oisin gives it one last try. He orders this cocktail beauty:
He gives it a sip and looks satisfied. “Ah yes, THIS is the feeling I’ve been searching for” he says. I try it and he is right. It is something else: It tastes like mezcal infused with honey and Palo Santo. Smoky, Sweet and aromatic, but very well balanced. Complex. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
I highly recommend a visit to Overstory: For the view. For the cocktail. For the feeling. It’s an elevated experience—no pun intended. Well worth the $24 cocktails and the 2-hour wait. Perhaps you could be more strategic than us and make a reservation? We’re not ones for reservations; we follow our instincts and simply show up. So far, that approach has served us well… most of the time anyways.
Don’t go to Overstory if you are afraid of heights 😉
A few blissful sips close to the stars, and we get back on the ground and hop in a metro back to JFK to catch a flight to Barcelona. I’ll be exploring Barcelona tomorrow and see what trouble I can get myself into.
Do you have any Manhattan favorites? Have you experienced any other skyscraper bar in Manhattan? Sharing is for cool people.
All the love,
V