Welcome to “On a Toot!,” an occasional feature in which I try to remember some of the liquid highlights of the week, and other highlights in general. “On a Toot!” will only run on Fridays and will only be available to paid subscribers. We hope you enjoy it.
“The bar is packed all day long with New York debutantes, brokers, Newport dowagers, bad women who walk good dogs on Park Avenue, chic divorcees and college boys on toots.”—Daily News, 1937, describing the scene at the Ritz Bar in Paris.
Over this past summer, Mary Kate and I have gotten in the habit of heading to Bar Goto Niban in Brooklyn any Friday night when we are hungry (which is every Friday) and don’t feeling like cooking (which are some Fridays). There, we take a couple stools in front of the redoubtable barman Mathew Ressler—who is always there on Friday—and order the same thing: two Whiskey Highballs; followed by two Martinis or Gibsons; two orders of Goto’s famous Miso Wings; and an order of their equally famous Kombu Celery. This adhoc, adult combo meal never fails to satisfy. We then happily stroll the remaining three blocks between Niban and our apartment, knowing no stove need to be lit…