We’d finally made it all the way to Park Slope, it was less than warm,
and I’m pretty sure I had mascara on my forehead from frantically
trying to fix my make-up on the subway. You can imagine my dismay when
the only boy I really wanted to see on my trip to New York wasn’t even
home. But we couldn’t just call him! It would be much better if we
‘just happened to be in the neighborhood’. “They can’t be far. Their
car is here!” But how were we gonna kill an hour in the middle of
residential nowhere in 20 degree weather? That’s when we found it.
BAR TANO. A little haven of happiness with pressed tin walls and a
zinc bar.
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Bar Tano in Brooklyn
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