She broke his heart clean in half.

It was just before midnight, and my best pal Tim was wandering aimlessly down Stanton Street in New York, looking like a man unplugged from life. I ducked into the bright lights of Manhattan Deli & Grill on the corner of Eldridge and passed a crumpled twenty to the man across the counter.

“How much bacon will this get me?”

He took the money and smiled. Ten minutes later, I was back on the curb with one too many tallboys of American beer and enough processed pig belly to make a cardiologist weep.

We sat on the curb eating greasy fistfuls of bacon, swigging from cans stuffed into brown paper bags. Talked about life, about nothing, about everything. By sunrise, he was cured, or at least cured enough to fight another day. Standing up would prove a different challenge.

There is a certain magic to a New York City bodega. They are not only convenience stores. Or delis. Or liquor shops. They are cornerside temples where streets and lives intersect—poets, skaters, felons, beat cops—everyone equal under flickering light. No one makes eye contact and everyone belongs.

They are places where the coffee is cheap, the gossip is free, drinks get mixed under the counter and the doors never lock. You can walk in lost and walk out… slightly less so.

And to honour that magic, we built Looseys, a booze-soaked, grease-stained love letter to the bodegas of New York, the city that made me and Chef Josh Stumbaugh the men they are today. For better or for worse.

We even roped in America’s best bartender, Jeff Bell of PDT, and nine-MICHELIN-star Chef Matthew Kirkley to whip up a menu of delicious bodega classics — think Chopped Cheeses, Hot Italian Heroes, Bloody Marys, Micheladas and more.

And now, her doors are open. Her lights are on. And there is a place at the counter for whoever needs it.

We hope to see you soon.

Nate, Josh, Matt, Jeff and the Looseys Crew

52-56 Staunton St, Central