Spanish Fly

Spanish Fly

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519 years ago tomorrow, Columbus dropped by the Americas.

He sailed under the Spanish flag.

That reminds us: tapas.

Introducing Ventanas, a lantern-lit tapas bar under the High Line with a murderers’ row of small plates and the occasional midriff-baring dancer, now open.

Around these parts, the High Line goes by a different name: roof. In fact, support beams from the track come right down into the dining room, making this the first (and only) architectural marvel of the oxtail empanada world.

If you’re thinking this calls for a large party, your target should be the long, low velvet couch in the back. Your drinks should be bucket-sized sangria pitchers. And your meal should be… well, all of the 30-plus tapas offerings (just make sure the short rib shish kebabs are strategically set down within arm’s length).

If the evening you have in mind skews more toward the intimate, try sitting up by the stained-glass bar, getting a few High Line Fashioneds (it’s like the Old version, only with an absinthe floater) and sampling the five major Latin food groups: chorizo, croquetas, camarones, ceviche and Ibérico ham.

As for the non-consumable-related kicks: on the weekends, there’s a house DJ. During the week, there’s live performers—anything from flamenco bands to violinists to a quartet of seductive belly dancers.

If you’re keeping score, it’s three outies and one innie.


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