top of page
Writer's picturethe_maestro

Double Chicken Please – New York, NY

Updated: Jul 22

My sister and I, ever pursuers of excellent mixology, are shameless followers of the "Top 50" list of the "best" bars in the world. Of course, such lists are entirely subjective and can in no way render a reliable ranking, but in terms of isolating the best work being done behind bars in a city, the Top 50 list is a pretty good benchmark.


New York City unsurprisingly figures pretty heavily into the Top 50 list––it is indisputably the best drinking city in North America. After watching old standbys like Death and Co. and Attaboy circling the top of the list for a few years, relative newcomer Double Chicken Please caught my eye in recent years, and managed to catapult to second place on the list's latest iteration.



Double Chicken Please, or DCP, started as a roving popup bar in an old VW Minibus operated by GN Chan and Faye Chen before settling on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. They operate two separate rooms in their space––a front room, with a modern, lively vibe and seasonally-inspired draft cocktails. In the back, the warmer, midcentury modern "Coop" still displays a raucous atmosphere, but with more seating and their flagship menu that's made them so famous.



The Coop's concept is unlike any I'd encountered in the mixology scene, and quite suited to my tastes––in the spirit of "hacking design," the bar staff deconstructs popular culinary items, like Waldorf salad, Thai curry, or French toast, and uses flavor components to invent a beverage. The menu, then, is organized like one you might find at a standard restaurant––appetizers, entrées, and desserts, with a little subsidiary section for plays on classics.



Food––real food, that is––is also on offer, and it should surprise nobody that the menu is chicken-focused. Mark Chou, formerly of NYC culinary temples Le Bernardin and Eleven Madison Park, runs the kitchen, and his playful takes on chicken sandwiches get the most attention here. His popcorn chicken, though, served with your choice of three fantastic sauces, is the showstopper, and you can also find various other "Friends," like pickles, a salad, and some sweets.


The sublime popcorn chicken

And so, I found myself here on a busy Saturday night in Manhattan for "dinner" (of sorts) during my most recent visit to the city, giving myself the chance to try a full three-course "meal" and an appendage cocktail from DCP's "Classics" section.


But before, I had to brave the queue. I left Brooklyn about 45 minutes later than I wanted, and found myself at the back of a line about 60 people deep just 20 minutes after the bar opened. After about a half hour of waiting, a friendly host approached with an iPad and took my name down, indicating I would have about a 75 minute wait.



Fortunately, just two blocks away was another of the city's hottest new spots––Eel Bar, a Spanish-inspired tapas restaurant and bar blend from the folks at Cervo's, one of the most buzzy restaurants in town. With diner-like touches and neon tubes that would be just as at home at a casino in Reno, the space was bizarre and austere, yet fresh. And while the food was good, the prices––like $17 for a tiny pintxo of two piquillo peppers scantly stuffed with crab––read as symptoms of a city with an affordability crisis that's out of control, even by my California standards.



Still, the gin and tonic made with intensely aromatic Spanish gin, and the white asparagus swimming in a tangy, spicy mayo, olive oil, and bottarga, comprised a lovely amuse bouche for the boozy feast to follow just an hour later at Double Chicken Please.



When I returned, I found the dim Coop room stacked to the brim with wild, and often fowl-themed, art, like a rubber chicken peeking down from above the expansive over-bar light fixture. Indeed, one of the themes of DCP is what they call "The Other Chicken"––the marriage of curated design and art to make a holistic space for premium drinking.



Shortly after being sat at the bar, I opened my experience with DCP's signature shot––joven mezcal infused with shiso and plum. A delicious way to whet the ol' whistle. Meanwhile, my generous helping of popcorn chicken (pictured above) arrived quickly after ordering, complete with a salted egg yolk dipping sauce. This was easily the most preposterously delicious fried chicken I'd ever had.



The "Waldorf Salad," a play on the New York icon, was my choice for an "Appetizer." Made with two types of whisky, including a smoky Laphroaig, apple, ginger beer, walnut bitters, and a garnish of celery, it was at once refreshing and had the weight of the wood-aged spirit, and certainly emulated the character of the inspiration.



If there is a blockbuster drink at DCP, it's the "Red Eye Gravy"––a distinctly savory take on an old fashioned that is the only cocktail to date I've tried to feature a piece of meat as a garnish. Paired with Irish whiskey are flavors of corn, mushroom, and walnuts, and the bar staff instructs guests to take nibble of the dehydrated coppa atop between sips. This was a drink that wasn't nearly as compelling on paper as it was when prepared––the flavors were masterful.



The ingredients for the dessert cocktails, meanwhile, all had a rather saccharine look to them, which I suppose is unsurprising. I asked the bar staff which tipple read the least sweet, and he recommended the "Butter Raisin Biscuit." With French aperitif Pineau de Charentes, brown butter, and black raisin, the lower-alcohol drink had a delightful vermouth-like freshness that downplayed the sweeter ingredients, while a little raisin madeleine perched on the rim of the glass provided complementary bites. Tasty indeed, but hardly the favorite of the night.



The 90-minute limit is strictly enforced at DCP given the breathtaking waitlist, but I had just enough time and political capital with the bar staff to eke out one more round, this time from their "Classics" section––plays on classic cocktails with distinctly "culinary" touches, like an aviation made with clarified milk.



The "Dirty Margarita" was the unanimous favorite of the bar staff, which fortuitously looked best to me as well. A sort of unholy marriage between a dirty martini and a mezcal marg, the salinity of the olive brine worked brilliantly, the same role a salted rim plays in the classic. My second-favorite of the night, and one I might have enjoyed a second time had the clock not been ticking.



Still, as I closed out, the congenial bartenders, who had sniffed me out as a nerd for rad mixology, offered a little digestif of sherry and pear, gratis––a kindness the likes of which will keep me coming back to this magnificent bar.



Number 2 in the world? I could see it. The drinks are just as phenomenal and inventive as any other spot in the same stratum of the Top 50 list.

173 views

Recent Posts

See All

Join the Maestro's Mailing List

and don't miss a bite. or sip.

bottom of page