This venue is closed.
What’s in a name? If you’re the East Village Yacht Club, pretty much everything. Amid the last vestiges of East Village grime—Mars Bar, the grossest dive this side of Tijuana, is half a block away—this two-storied, tripartite club (bar-restaurant-lounge) tries extremely hard, and generally succeeds, at approximating that lakeshore vibe, right down to a simulated sunset. White-painted brick walls are the norm on both floors, where seafaring paraphernalia greets you at your every turn: framed drawings of ships, model boats in glass cases, and triangular racing flags on the winding staircase. Though it feels a bit like an afterthought, the menu acquits itself nicely enough if you keep it light, via flaky, airy lobster crêpes or almost sweet mini–Gruyère cheeseburgers; the heavier entrées like steak frites and roasted chicken are reliable more than remarkable.
Picnics with a view, roller-skating nostalgia, and a party for gay headbangers.