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Around South Street Seaport, post-work suits and awkward tourists run rampant, and most bars bellow “last call” by 10 p.m. But this narrow joint, located inside a nineteenth-century brick building, flaps against the wind: The suits disperse after happy hour, when locals root in till a real last call, and the only tourists are the ones that have no qualms about drinking in the afternoon (a.k.a. Our Kind of Tourists, a.k.a. Eastern Europeans). Deriving its name from an old fish smokehouse that once called the red-brick building home—“fresh, salt and smoked fish” declares a weathered sign—the bar pays homage to its past with vintage neon signs and an array of hanging fish hooks. Owners Jason Connolly and Sara Williams, who might look familiar from mid-show drink breaks at Mercury Lounge and Bowery Ballroom, let wonderfully nostalgic nineties jams (Smashing Pumpkins, Built to Spill) and tasty, lesser known ales (Brooklyn-based Sixpoint, San Francisco’s Anchor Steam) flow with equal force. — Rachel Wolff