Old New York, Poured Neat

I was walking down Billionaire’s Row—or rather, one of its offshoots on 57th Street—which boasts three of the tallest residential buildings in the world. I’m sure you know the ones. The pencil-thin block buildings by Central Park that, while probably structurally impressive, are about as artistically inspiring as a toddler’s LEGO tower. And now that I think about it, there aren’t even multicolored blocks involved, which somehow makes them even less visually stimulating. Where’s the artwork? The detail? To be fair, I’m no architect or engineer—just someone who appreciates the beauty of New York’s skyline, or more specifically, the 20th-century skyscrapers that defined it. These buildings don’t do it for me.

But I digress. You came for the food and beverage section, and I sure as hell wasn’t on Billionaire’s Row apartment-hunting (and I’ve probably just ruined my chances of scoring one there in 800 years when I can afford it). Sandwiched between 8th and 9th Avenue is the recently opened Central Park Tavern, and while the newer skyscrapers on the block are forgettable, that’s not a word I’d use for this bar.

I sat down with Tom, one of the bar’s owners, who—along with his co-owner Kim—set out to create an elevated sports bar inspired by the atmosphere and aesthetics of sports halls and taverns from a century ago. They had a head start: the location already has a rich history. Central Park Tavern sits on the former site of Kennedy’s, an Irish pub that was a neighborhood staple for decades. Celebrities like Al Pacino and even mobsters as notorious as the Gambinos are said to have frequented the place. After Kennedy’s closed, the venue became a popular sports bar, known especially for showing Buffalo Bills games during football season.

Now, as Central Park Tavern, Tom and Kim have created a cozy but elevated pub that honors that past. As you walk in, there’s a traditional barroom up front, while the back room evokes the lounges of a bygone era—reminiscent of Prohibition establishments. Don’t worry: there are no gimmicky passwords or refrigerator doors (not that I don’t enjoy a secret door), just a dining room that feels finer than your local bar but still comfortable enough for a Sunday game. The woodwork is beautiful, and the layout makes the back bar the centerpiece of the room, where you can almost imagine a mafioso nursing a drink. Now, to be clear—I’m not condoning organized crime. But it’s hard not to romanticize the artistry, flair, and sophistication of those establishments, which are exactly what Central Park Tavern is trying to revive.

Then there’s the menu, which at first glance might look like standard pub fare: burgers, fries, flatbreads, wings, sandwiches, and on game day, even a hot dog tower. I don’t know how the physics of that works, but I’m sure it’s a sight to behold. Don’t be fooled, though—this isn’t your average sports bar food. I ordered the Tavern Burger, and it delivered. The house-made beef blend was cooked to medium perfection. In a world where burger orders so often mean something frozen or a thin smash patty (which is on the menu if that’s your thing), this thick, juicy patty was exactly what I hoped for. Apologies to vegetarians and vegans, but this is a meat lover’s must. Even without the sauce, it was deeply flavorful.

But the toppings are what give it its real personality: Irish cheddar, caramelized onions, and garlic aioli, offering a hint of sweetness before the savory sauce ties everything together. I know burgers don’t always scream “elevated dining,” but trust me—this was a quality dish, and I’m eager to try more.

If you’re looking for something that reads more refined on paper, the menu also offers oysters, steak frites, and a sticky toffee “Tavern” pudding, making Central Park Tavern a great spot not just for a game, but for after-work drinks or a proper night out. And that’s not even touching on the cocktails. My Phuket About It (kudos on the pun) was a Thai-inspired twist on a Whiskey Sour. The tea infusion cut the usual sweetness, balancing bitterness, brown sugar, and a light pinch of lemon zest while keeping everything that makes the original great.

Reading back my notes, it might sound like a lot is going on here—oysters, hot dog towers, everything in between—but it never feels that way. Plenty of places try to do too much with their theme and end up feeling inauthentic, especially in more modern parts of the city. The beauty of Central Park Tavern lies in the details—something those other places often miss.

Talking with Tom felt like talking to a production designer on a film set. Their job is all about detail. You might not consciously notice the clock in the background of a period film or the technology in a sci-fi show, but you feel it. That’s what allows a movie to transport you—to make you believe the characters really are in a Victorian mansion or millions of light-years away.

That’s exactly how this felt. Tom showed me around the space, pointing out thoughtful choices like early 20th-century sports memorabilia and the decision to move the beer taps to the back wall instead of the bar top, creating a more historically accurate tavern aesthetic. That same care shows up in the food. From blending cheeses specifically for the mozzarella sticks to shipping in authentic Buffalo hot sauce for Bills games, every choice is intentional.

Most of these details, we’ll probably never consciously register—but they’re what make Central Park Tavern stand out. Some places put on a facade, a cheap imitation of something else. Others capture something real. Central Park Tavern belongs firmly in the latter category, successfully reviving a sense of place—and a time—we thought was gone.