Bea

Bea’s is a cozy little neighborhood cocktail bar doing real dinner. But it’s also a little neighborhood restaurant with great cocktails. That depends on you. The food is comfort-oriented: proteins with sides, pastas, pizzas, salads—you don’t have to understand anything to find something that works. And most of it is quite good, with all the parts in the right place: well-seasoned and properly temped proteins like the 8oz filet mignon; generous saucing, as seen in the spinach tagliatelle with garlic and shrimp; and accoutrements that make sense, represented by the mint chimichurri, zucchini and mashed potatoes that come with the marinated lamb chops. It may not be revelatory, but this is honest food calibrated to satisfy.

Cocktails are where Bea really turns up the theatricality. There’s a lot more invention and verve going on here than you might have surmised from the victuals; the short but sweet list has a sense of whimsy. The Anything Goes (prickly pear gin, grenadine, lime, sparkling wine) is cool and comfy as freshly laundered bedsheets, whereas the smoky, tangy, salty Wicked Witch of the West Side (mezcal, Montenegro, saffron liqueur, grapefruit, lime and a smoked salt rim) wraps you up like a down comforter on a cold night. And if you’re not on the sauce, mocktails here are treated with similar levels of care. If all of that’s not doing it for you, there are ample choices on the wine and beer lists.

Service is excellent—quick, reassuring and friendly. They’re pros at accommodating theatergoers, so just let them know and they’ll have you out the door right on time.

The nightly crowd is a mix: Hell’s Kitchen regulars and the theater crowd. That means the place has a tempo: murmured conversation builds to a din, then eases back again. Just hang in there if you’re committed to an evening, or arrive after the rush. Atmosphere-wise, it’s got some ambiance, with Edison bulb lighting and movies projected on the white brick walls. It has that downtown, slightly chaotic brasserie feel, which is to say it’s cute and feels celebratory—like you’d be fine lingering after dinner to tie one on. And there’s a pseudo-yard in the form of an atrium, where a huge skylight stands in for mood lighting. Bea is a great place to start—and maybe even end—an evening.