The Irish Exit — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

421 8th Ave (a.k.a. Moynihan Food Hall in Penn Station), Midtown West

The Place: An Irish pub in the new Moynihan Food Hall, but let’s just call it what it is: the bar in Penn Station.

The Time: Tuesday March 12, 6pm. I’m seeing a play with a friend nearby and the last time I was in Penn Station, The Irish Exit was in the process of opening. After a quick Google search, I discovered that it’s from the folks behind The Dead Rabbit, one of the best bars in New York. Figured I’d go back the next time I found myself in the oh-so-lovely neighborhood of Midtown Manhattan so here we are.

*A perfect Irish Coffee at The Irish Exit*

The Vibe: The last time I drank at the Penn Station bar, it was in their old food hall situation called The Pennsy. That was weird. This new Penn Station food hall is decidedly nicer; it’s not smushed up against Madison Square Garden like The Pennsy was, but it’s toward the back of the newly renovated Moynihan Train Hall. The Irish Exit is the focal point of the food hall, surrounded by kiosks of trendy vendors, like Burger Joint, Magnolia Bakery and…Pastrami Queen? Sure. Not that I’m the arbiter of Irish pubs or anything, but I do wonder if this actually qualifies as an Irish pub. The color motif is orange and green, they have Irish whiskeys on display, they should make a good Irish coffee based on the pedigree of the hospitality group. Is that enough? Idk. There are TVs, but they’re not showing anything live, and there’s a very large old-school flippy billboard thing that cycles through train times, as well as “fun facts” (if you can call “did you know there’s 4 days until St. Patrick’s Day?” a fun fact). All the seating throughout the entire food hall is tied to the bar aesthetically, which does help make the space feel more cohesive. The bar itself is a big circle bar that I have to do nearly a full turn of before finding a spot because it is BUSY, filled with commuters, tourists, lots of people who clearly work in the area for after-work drinks. There are several other solo drinkers, including a woman further down the bar with a glass of wine and a notebook, and the guy to my left, drinking a Manhattan and repeatedly checking Facebook on his phone. There are two dudes to my right drinking Bud Lite who obviously work either in Penn Station or right nearby, and something is wrong with one of their phones. “I can’t work like this!” says one of the guys. “I need to meme!” Guessing it’s not a job-related issue.

The Bartender(s): There are many, all wearing orange shirts and green aprons. The one that I’m sitting in front of is a blonde woman who calls me “hon,” but she’s also on a first-name-basis with the two guys, so my suspicions are correct. I still have no idea what they’re so desperate to meme about.

The Drank: Since this place is run by the same people as The Dead Rabbit, which makes the best Irish coffee I’ve ever had, I figured they better have a damn good one. Blissfully, it’s the same Irish coffee* that they serve at Dead Rabbit, and god it’s delicious. But there are also several espresso martini machines sponsored by Ketel One and I actually can’t think of anything less Irish. On the bar and all the tables are QR codes where you can order from any of the food vendors and they’ll bring it to you. So that’s a pretty sweet perk.

Was I Hit On?: Surprisingly not. (Though since I am on the precipice of turning 32 and clearly giving “don’t talk to me” energy, should I really be that surprised?) By far my favorite exchange that I overhear is when the bartender puts down two empty shot glasses for the meme-guys and asks what they want. They say “Tully,” (short for Tullamore Dew, an Irish whiskey, bless ‘em), and one of the guys says, “gee, I wonder if it will taste the same as it did yesterday!” I really hope this dude can get back to his memes, they might actually be funny!

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Listen. If you’re in the neighborhood and need a drink and a bite, or a place to kill time before your train, go for it. No one will blink twice if you’re alone (frankly, it’d be weirder if you CHOSE to meet someone here). Or! If you’ve never tried the Dead Rabbit Irish coffee and don’t want to go all the way to the tip of Manhattan, it’s just as good as the OG! You will never forget that you’re drinking in a train station, but at least they do what they can to make it a nice experience.

*It has come to my attention that it’s actually spelled as “Irish Cawfee” on The Irish Exit’s menu, I guess as a phonetic tip o’ the hat to New York. I didn’t look at a menu, nor would I have pronounced it that way.