Ocabanon — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

245 W 29th St btw 7th and 8th Aves, Chelsea

The Place: A lovely French restaurant that’s been a mainstay for Chelsea regulars for over ten years.

The Time: Monday April 1, 6pm. Ever since I started this site in 2016 (!!) I’ve gotten sooo many recommendations from people about places I should go. Recently, my mom’s friends who live in Chelsea (hi Franny and Jack!) told me about their go-to neighborhood restaurant, and I flagged it in oh-so-handy Google maps should I ever be nearby. Well, I’m meeting a friend for dinner in the area and figured I’d stop into Ocabanon for a happy hour glass of wine. C’est destinée.

The Vibe: It’s empty, but it’s Monday at 6, so that’s mostly to be expected. (And frankly, it’s kind of nice not to have to jockey for a bar seat like some of my local Brooklyn spots that I’ve hit up on a Monday.) The space is long and narrow, with the bar in front and the restaurant in the back, and a little provisions shop (pardon, l’épicerie) to the right. Inexplicably, there’s a foosball table right in front, when there’s nothing else about this place that says “a foosball table lives here.” It’s not your traditional French bistro decor; it’s more modern and spacious, with exposed brick walls and high ceilings. The music seems to be exclusively 80s rock, and the lights are just a touch too bright for my taste. (This is clearly a day-to-night spot because there’s an espresso machine at the end of the bar, so maybe they just haven’t transitioned to their “night” lights yet.) The space doesn't necessarily transport me to France, but it’s a nice little reprieve from the busy Manhattan streets (and many many bonus points for making me forget I just got off the 3 train at Penn Station).

The Bartender: A very nice, very French man whose accent is so thick, I don’t really understand him.

The Drank: Clearly the French bartender doesn’t understand me either because when I ask for the house white, he pours me a glass of the house red from the biggest bottle I’ve ever seen. He comments on the giant bottle before I do, telling me that he doesn’t know “the measurement in gallons” but does know it’s three liters. (A three-liter bottle of wine is actually a DOUBLE MAGNUM. I really didn’t know they made such a thing.) I don’t have the heart to correct him on my order, and even though it’s not what I asked for, it’s a good, easy-drinking red wine. (Turns out, all three of their house wines come in double magnums!!) At a glance, the menu seems like standard French fare, and the little bit I see coming out of the kitchen looks delicious.

Was I Hit On?: A few more folks trickle in as I enjoy my wine and read my book, including another solo woman who just orders a Coke, and a couple visiting from Spain. But I end up meeting the owner, Alex, who introduces himself as I ask for the check. When I tell him I know Franny and Jack, he comps my wine! He says they’ve been devoted regulars since he opened this place ten years ago, and their main clientele is local neighborhood folks. If I didn’t already have dinner plans, I’d certainly stay and have some food, but I promise him I’ll come back for a meal next time I’m around.

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Sure! If you find yourself in this weird part of north Chelsea/south Midtown, Ocabanon is a delightful haven to sip a glass of wine, have a bowl of French onion soup, and support a local business.