As I usually feel most home in Nolita. I found myself vagabonding the scenic Greenwich village to keep it fresh. One block comes to mind. A sleepy one with a nonchalant attitude lined with brownstones and beneath it, the youthfully mature Hotel Griffou. It is frightfully old fashioned in it's decorative manner, dimly lit, elegant women bartenders dressed in black and les garcons tied and vested. One does lose sense of time past the two door entrance submerged under the pavement, which depletes any chance of natural light. The theme of multiply dining rooms brings curiosity as Serge Gainsbourg, The Greenhorns and Francoise Hardy rotate through the playlist. I can not say the pint-sized crowd had much style or swagger but it was an hour too early for most sensible people to be drinking a Hendrick's martini alone. This place is bait for like-minded Dandys and Lappels so Griffou your cocktail and keep a watchful eye for people whose clothes match their moxie.
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