The phrase “achilles heel” might, by no choice of your own, bring to mind images of Brad Pitt circa 2004 when he had the best beach hair ever (and it’s so perfectly pulled back he’s got to have some butterfly clips in there, right?!) Or maybe it just stuck with me because the ...
If this is a problem for you too, please immediately take yourself to Achilles Heel in Greenpoint. You can swap out a creepy mental association of sweaty dudes covered with fake blood, speaking in terrible British accents (why?! Troy is in Turkey…) for a wood burning fire, Muffuletta, oysters, and a super beautiful bar with the coziest vibes. Full disclosure: the first time I went there, I wore light blue lipstick-- some things don’t change.
The space is gorgeous, tucked away on West Street, and no surprise that it’s another gem in the neighborhood by Andrew Tarlow and Kate Huling. The building itself has a ton of character - the last time it was open pre Achilles Heel was in 1960. All the moldings are original, and there’s a gnarly dagger hanging over the bar that they found taped underneath it when they first moved in - hell yes.