McSorley’s is part of a series of tidbits from the chapters of my book Bars, Taverns and Dives New Yorkers Love, published by Rizzoli. You can order it from Powell’s, Amazon, Rizzoli, and Barnes & Noble. Signed prints of all the bars in the book are available here.

In 1940, New Yorker writer Joseph Mitchell described the inch-thick dust on the wishbones hanging above the bar. A bunch of boys had Thanksgiving dinner at McSorley’s before shipping off to Europe for World War I, and they hung those bones up there for luck. Mitchell went on about posters of Lincoln (who drank there) and Teddy Roosevelt (who drank there), and the potbelly stove, and the crackers and cheese and onions they served for free. Years back I read that piece, loved it, and figured I’d missed out on McSorley’s; that it’d been closed and torn down long ago. I was wrong. It’s still there. All of it. Read Joe Mitchell’s “The Old House at Home,” then hang at McSorley’s on a weekday afternoon. Trust me.

McSorley’s is the granddaddy of New York City’s Irish bars. It smells old and woody and beery and historic, a little like an attic. It’s been there on Seventh Street since 1854, and looking at the walls you’ll believe it. The place is practically a museum that serves beer. And that, by the way, is your only beverage option, so get on board and order them in even numbers, because they’re sold two at a time, served in sturdy mugs that hold about 8.5 ounces.

Weekday afternoons at McSorley’s are about as good as it gets: peaceful and light-filled, with plenty of elbow room to check out the artifacts covering the walls. You’ll probably find a seat during the off hours. If there’s room at one of the occupied round tables, grab a chair. That’s fine. In fact, that’s excellent. You’ll likely get into a good conversation. It’s a chatty bar, but the solitary reader has a place at McSorley’s, too. And writers. Owner Mattie Maher warns that “when you start comin’ here, you don’t stop writing.”

Where to Sit at McSorley’s:

“When it’s busy, any seat,” says Maher, and the tables next to the front, south-facing windows are especially good. John Lennon was a regular in the 1970s, and favored the seat to the door’s left as you walk in, where he’d hang out on quiet afternoons and “do a little writin’.” Maher once struck up a conversation with Lennon and discovered they’d met several times as kids. Lennon had family in Maher’s hometown of Kilkenny and would visit from Liverpool often. Maher remembered playing with him on the streets near Lennon’s uncle’s drapery shop, “just a regular kid.”

When to Go:

Afternoons and weekday evenings. Crowds can get thick on weekend evenings. McSorley’s is wildly popular with both tourists and the neighborhood’s huge New York University student population. If a crowd isn’t what you’re feeling, go when it’s more likely to be chill.

Next Up:

Luckydog of Williamsburg in Brooklyn — a lovable mutt of a scruffy-yet-well-appointed little dive bar, and another chapter of my book Bars, Taverns and Dives New Yorkers Love, which you can order right here. Limited-edition signed prints of the bars are available here.