P. J. Clarke's
Dwarfed by skyscrapers, this 19th-century brick building at the corner of 3rd and 55th stands as a holdover from another era—a genuine saloon that has been around since 1884. Its classy, old-fashioned front has double wood doors framed by black and hunter green and, of course, the telltale curved corner of stained glass. Inside, old framed photos hang from wall to wall and the snug space features tables covered with red and white checkered tablecloths, a classic wood bar, and a ceiling covered in pressed tin. As for the pedigree: Frank Sinatra used to frequent table 20, Johnny Mercer wrote “One for My Baby” here, and Richard Harris always had his "usual"–six double vodkas.