The Black Sheep Sports Bar N.Y.C — Restaurant in New York

TLDR: the pot pie

Upon arrival in the city late last night, we were greeted by hand woven tales of the Black Sheep. In utter disbelief of the praise I was hearing, I reached out to the Oracle, Google itself, for more information. I found countless praise for an unexpected contender, the Chicken Pot Pie, so I made a mental note to explore this enigma the very next day. Already satiated by the likes of copious street meat, Margaritaville and subway mangoes, we arrived at the promised land itself. Our bartender, disinterested as she was attentive, jotted down our order of happy hour beers and the famed Chicken Pot Pie itself as I made my way to the bathroom. I swear it was itself made of urine. Unabashed by the dismal restroom experience, I sat at a corner table and downed my first Modelo. Brimming with anticipation, I ordered a second with the intent of washing down the glory that was to come. It soon did. Like a perfectly executed reverse play, the cook handed it off to the server, who in turn placed it delicately upon our table. The presentation was immaculate, it looked like a soft golden football, and it was leaking steam from the thin cracks in its surface. I eagerly reached for the spoon before me and dismembered its exterior with as much respect as I could muster, barring any of my fragile human ego. As soon as the first morsel touched my tender lips, I knew the stories were true. I heard songs, praise, stories of long forgotten triumph. My eyes rolled back and my tongue did backflips. It was pure ecstasy. I tried to contain my excitement, but it was a losing battle. We vigorously devoured this monument of culinary excellence without hesitation. Black Sheep? Aptly named. An unexpected excursion into the depths of the fine dining experience that New York has to offer.

Thank you to our Ray of Sunshine for speaking of such a hole in the wall. We owe...

This place was recommended to me by the receptionist at the hotel I was staying at, as I wanted to have a drink someplace other than the hotel bar. It was early evening and about half a dozen people in, mostly around the bar. I was made to feel very welcome, and made a couple of friends that night. Service was great, with a friendly barmaid in whom I placed my trust to choose drinks. Returned two nights later - New Years Eve - and spent the night in the bustling party that was the Black Sheep that night. First time I'd been to NYC, and first time I'd tried Yuengling (sorry if mis-spelt) beer. Next time I'm visiting the city I'll definitely be paying this pub a visit. It's like how most pubs in Britain used to be - friendly, fun and in possession of a soul. Most now are clones of one another, selling the same drinks with (mostly) indifferent service. If you are in the area, give this...

The bar tender who served us was extremely slow and talked to her coworker and not attentive to customers. When the bill came at $87.92 we tipped $10.00. After which we we harassed by the bartender for not tipping enough and were asked to leave now and were called all sorts of insulting names and were asked the get the "f" out and never come back by the lady bartender who was very disrespectful and imbarseed us in front of everyone at the bar.

I would NOT Ever go back here as this was my local bar for sometime.

I feel disrespected and humiliated for not tipping for a subpar service, which I generously tipped 11% when they deserved 0%.

Please don't go here as the bartenders on Saturday night are horrible and disrespectful, non attentive, and only speak to their co-workers and get upset when asked for a...