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With the opening of 675 Bar, the meatpacking has finally regained a neighborhood joint along the lines of the bygone Hog Pit. Steve Lewis is doubtful that the underground space will rake in as much as it did when it was turning bottles as Level V. But props to the bar for being conscientiously unpretentious, even if its nooks have been given PR-friendly names (the foosball area is the “wardrobe”; the area that contains Jenga, a pool table, and such is being called the “game room,” and there’s a “library” stocked with books from Housing Works), and even if mixologist Eben Klemm is latching onto the mescal trend by serving a cocktail (actually, they’re going with “mixed drinks”) called the Algerian Typist. You know what’s going to bring meatpackers to the place, aside from the cellar bachelor-pad vibe? Not so much the promised soundtrack of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Jack White, and Solomon Burke (plus live acts in the future). No — it’ll be the prosciutto-wrapped “hot pockets.” And chocolate bacon on a stick.
— Daniel Maurer