Editorial Review

LIC finally gets a turn-of-century style saloon to call its own. Little Branch folk relocate in the shadow of the Queensboro Bridge with this soon-to-be talk of the town. Borrowing the ancestral name of its hood, minimalist narrow space shelled in mahogany-stained waistcoting leads through the tavern, past the bar, straight to a sawdust-strewn stage with piano culled from mixology maestro Richie Boccato's mother's place. Antique all the way. Even the register is older than your gammy. The band plays ragtime hits over the weekend, while the throwback tenders juice fruits and chop ice, made to order, because make no mistake, it's all about what's in the glass. Welcome to the wild, wild best.