Freemans, in the Lower East side of NYC, is the restaurant equivalent of Erin Wasson, model and overall cool person.
It’s very rustic, with a hint of industrial and a sprinkle of whimsical accented by antlers everywhere. It’s also mysterious, as it is not easily found. Freemans is down an alley way off Rivington St. And luckily, the very smart people of Freemans have placed a sign at the start of the alleyway to make sure google maps illiterate people, like me, have a chance to spot the shy-ish, blue-ish restaurant.
Excitement builds as you walk down the well-kept alleyway, but the feeling of warmness after entering a close friends house takes over as you walk in. No matter how cold it is outside you feel like you can take your coat off and put thick, comfy socks on. I’ve been a few times now, for all of brunch, lunch and dinner, and it has NEVER ever been a miss for me. That must be the case for a lot of New Yorkers since it seems to keep busy from open till close.
Freemans has got a bit of a cult following as a cocktail bar too. If the front bar is filled up, the back half-circled bar is sure to be too so stick your ground and get your order in. Freemans is open for drinks all day.
Warning: most tables are very close together so there is no doubt you will overhear other’s conversations. In turn, your neighbors will notice you’ve overheard their conversation, and will grow silent. It will be awkward. You will then try to fill the silence by talking to your friend, and then your neighborhood will overhear you and you will grow silent. This will go on and on and on, until the food comes. Only then will everything be forgiven and forgotten because who cares about anything else when a sizzling-hot egg white omelet with roasted mushrooms and goats cheese and a side of thick cut bacon has just arrived… Am I right or am I right?
End of Freemans Alley on Rivington St between Bowery St and Chrystie St.