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Nestled in the
West Village, Commerce is the sort of street where a mother could
send her son running to borrow a cup of sugar—back when mothers
baked, that is. We have a friend who grew up in a brownstone right
down the block from what was once the street’s speakeasy, where he
washed dishes and later tended bar. Since then, that landmarked
space has housed the Blue Mill (a 1940s restaurant whose name still
lingers on the building’s façade), before becoming the much-loved
Grange Hall, and then, for a brief time, the Blue Mill again. It’s
a lovely space with wall murals, leather banquettes, and dark woods,
evoking a bygone era of Village swells imbibing classic
cocktails—and therefore, it’s good to see that the place has been
re-opened again, this time re-christened as Commerce.
In the midst of a downpour during Pride Sunday, we popped in for old
time’s sake—as well as for relief from the rain. We used to
frequent the place when it was Grange Hall—and in fact, had dined
here on another Pride Sunday, surrounded by other Pride revelers.
This Sunday at five, however, we had the place to ourselves, save
for two SATC gals cooling their Choos at the bar with a couple of
Cosmos.
We sat behind them in a small booth—and drank beer. We ordered the
Salad Of 20 Herbs And Lettuces with manchego cheese, olive oil
and lemon, which was spring’s bounty on a plate—and a reminder
of what the rain outside (and sunshine) can produce. Best of all,
there was the breadbasket filled with house made olive and sesame
rolls, and salty rolls, and pretzel twists. With a tin of butter,
we devoured every morsel—and finished just as the sky cleared.
Apparently, Commerce is well on its way to becoming the next Waverly
Inn (with prices to match)—or so the gals at the bar had heard. But
that Sunday, it was just the two of them, and the two of us—and that
early evening, Commerce was a throwback to a quieter, gentler
Manhattan—and just what we wanted.
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