You always learn something new at the Museum. I'd like to also thank the Balcony Bar for introducing me to the concept of dipping potato chips in mayonnaise.
Recently that was a large bowl of excellent hand-cut potato chips, fried until dark and crisp, then tossed in a fragrant rosemary salt with a side of malt vinegar aioli. My go-to order is a gin martini and whatever small snack they have on offer. The rooftop is all new art (and, "Oh, look at those views!") compared to the The Balcony Bar's "permanent collection" vibes. It's a stalwart, always there for you, rain or shine, snow or heatwave. One has to know it's there, or happen upon it while perusing the lovely Chinese ceramics that rim the mezzanine level. Maybe it's because the Balcony Bar is somewhat hidden that it's able to keep away the crowds. You can hear the hum of the crowd downstairs but can't see them, only the lovely oculus that illuminates them and the curves of the Great Hall's arches, which glow in the evening light.Ī post shared by Nell Casey on at 4:52pm PDT There are plenty of tables (with chairs!) at which to sit and savor a martini or nibble on a cheese board.
On most evenings, a string quartet or other small musical group performs for a few hours of the evening. Situated, tellingly, over the Museum's iconic Great Hall, the "Balcony Bar," as it's more commonly known, offers a welcome respite from the insanity of the rooftop. In short, it was a zoo, which is why I spent less than five minutes in the space before decamping to the Museum's superior watering hole: The Great Hall Café & Bar. There was nowhere to sit and barely any room to stand lines for the non-member bars-be prepared to be shooed away from the member bars, even if you just wanted to stand by the edge and had no intention of walking into the member bar area-were long and it was even difficult to appreciate Adrián Villar Rojas's The Theater of Disappearance because champagne swilling visitors were crammed between the pieces of sculpture. It was a warm evening and the place was packed. One great feature of the later hours means a visit to one of the Museum's bars, which is how I found myself ascending in the cramped elevator to the Museum's popular rooftop bar. Visiting The Met on a Friday evening, when the Museum stays open until 9 p.m., has been a favorite pilgrimage of mine since I moved to the Upper East Side just after graduating from NYU.
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