The famed Maine eatery will open a fourth outpost in Manhattan at 10 S. William St.
Luke’s Lobster is famous for seafood served *chilled* atop a buttered and toasted New England-style, split-top bun with a swipe of mayo, a sprinkle of lemon butter and a dash of secret spices.
Luke’s is applying for a beer and wine license for the Fidi location and they plan to serve Maine microbrews.
Add one more fast food joint to the mix!
As if Maiden Lane wasn’t already the retaurant row for FiDi, the owners of 2 Gold Street announced today that a storefront that lay idle for the longest time in their ground floor apartment complex will now house a 2,800 square feel Pot Belly’s Sandwich shop.
If you haven’t heard of them, here’s the scoop:
Potbelly Sandwich Shop began in 1977 as a small antique store run by a nice young couple. Despite the fast-paced, never-a-dull-moment world of antique dealing, the couple decided to bolster their business by making sandwiches for their customers. What began as a lark, turned out to be a stroke of genius. Soon, people who couldn’t care less about vintage glass doorknobs were stopping by to enjoy special sandwiches and homemade desserts in this unusual atmosphere.
One of Manhattan’s most little known areas, Peck Slip is also one of its most romantic. With narrow, cobblestone streets absent of traffic, buses, and subway stations, with the Brooklyn Bridge in the north sky and the celestial FiDi towers in the south, Peck Slip is a perfect Valentine’s Day destination. The restaurants below have been highlighted because of their Valentine’s Day offerings, but they are just a handful of the establishments that stud the first floors of the Slip’s historic houses.
In a district dominated by historic taverns, dimly lit sports bars, and after-work cocktails, Jeremy’s Ale House remains an eccentric and indulgent local’s favorite. Having relocated five times since its 1974 opening, the bar now resides a block northwest of the South Street Seaport.
So grimy that it is authentically dive, Jeremy’s sells tap beer in 32-ounce Sytrofoam cups (with the modest option of a 16-ounce plastic). Its Friday nights are bright, friendly, and drunken and begin with a guy-to-girl ration of five-to-one. Hiding out in Jeremy’s after work is like hunkering down in a motorcycle-friendly seashore bar in winter. The bar’s damp counter is manned by t-shirted men who scour the long, mismatched tables to deliver food. The fish and chips, mini burgers, mozzarella sticks, mountain of muscles, and clams—just a handful of choices from the bar’s extensive menu— all suffice for the happily drinking and leave no less in their wallets than a beer would.