This venue is closed.
Three blocks and as many pay grades separate the dual midtown Blaggards outposts, but not much else: Both serve as flip sides of the same function-over-fashion greasy spoon for thirsty businessmen and Jersey-transit riders. These fraternal twins have several basic elements in common: partitioned eateries, all-hours classic-rock radio, football on flat-screen, authentically Irish servers. And their visible differences don't amount to much beyond atmospheric tweaks. The Seventh Avenue Blaggard's is a proud dive, its family-friendly floors spotted by decades of uh-ohs. The second, more easterly location, boasts far greater chandeliers, square footage, and degrees of sheen, presumably representing the next step in the Blaggard's mini-empire. And the clientele varies accordingly, skewing younger and better-dressed.
Picnics with a view, roller-skating nostalgia, and a party for gay headbangers.