Hi, hi! So, something totally, wildly unexpected happened last night—and I just… I had to write about it. Because let me tell you, when I moved to New York, I braced myself for the high rent, the rats, and the sudden, irrational love for bagels at 3 a.m.—but I did not know this city was hiding Narnia-level secrets behind bodega freezers.
And yet, here we are.
When a Snack Run Turns into a Secret Adventure
So it started like any normal Tuesday night: I was in joggers, no makeup, hair up in what could very loosely be called “a bun,” craving Sour Patch Kids (don’t judge), and I popped out to the corner bodega like a totally casual, responsible adult who definitely doesn’t still eat candy for dinner.
The guy behind the counter barely looked up from his Yankees game, and I headed straight to the freezers. And that’s where everything got… weird.
There was this guy—way too dressed up to be shopping for frozen dumplings—kind of hovering near the freezer doors. And next thing I know, he pulls one open… and vanishes.
Like, straight-up disappears into it.
Now, obviously I stood there for a solid ten seconds doing my best Chandler impression in my head: “Could he BE any more sketchy?” But, also, I’m curious. I am a curious person. And maybe a little nosy. So naturally, I opened the same freezer door.
Plot Twist: There’s a Door in the Freezer
Okay, so you know how in movies, they always find secret doors and reveal them by pulling a book or pushing a statue and suddenly there's jazz music and cocktails and everybody looks impossibly cool?
Apparently, that’s real. Only in Manhattan, the secret entrance is hidden behind a stack of frozen waffles.
One minute I was up to my elbows in popsicles, and the next I was walking through this dim hallway with velvet curtains, exposed brick, and a faint smell of fancy things (citrus? cedar? money?). Then suddenly: boom, there it was.
The Speakeasy I Never Knew I Needed
The place is called "Cold Call"—and no, I did not make that up. It's a pun. Fancy people love puns. It’s this intimate, candle-lit bar that looks like it was decorated by someone who watched a lot of Mad Men and then threw in a disco ball for good measure.
There was a guy singing Amy Winehouse covers in the corner, a bartender in suspenders making cocktails that involved both fire and lavender foam (???), and everyone looked so… effortlessly cool. Like model-cool. Museum-exhibit cool.
And here I am, in my Central Perk sweatshirt, holding a bag of gummy worms.
But instead of kicking me out (always a risk), the bartender actually grinned and said, “You found us. Do you want something floral or smoky?”
Umm. Both?
My Drink Was Served in a Light Bulb (Because of Course It Was)
Yes, really.
I ordered something called “The Cold Front,” which is just charming and thematic and came in literal glass shaped like a lightbulb, with a sprig of thyme sticking out like a party hat. It was smoky, slightly sweet, very blue—but like expensive blue? And had edible glitter. I still don’t know if it was alcohol or performance art, but I loved it.
Quote of the night, from the bartender (who looked like he had definitely read at least six Hemingway novels):
“It’s kind of like the city—it’s chaos, but curated.”
And you know what? That’s exactly what it felt like.
Real Talk: New York, You Sneaky Queen
I moved to this city for the fashion, the dreams, the bagels—but nights like this are why I stay.
Where else can you go out for Swedish Fish and end up bonding with a drag queen about the best taco truck in Queens while sipping glitter cocktails behind a frozen pizza aisle?
Nowhere. That’s where.
So yes, next time you’re in the Lower East Side (I’m not giving the exact address because apparently it’s “invite only”—which is both annoying and thrilling), just… linger by a freezer. Gently pull it open. See what happens.
Because in New York, even frozen peas can lead to magic.
And I still got my Sour Patch Kids on the way home. 💁🏼♀️
xo,
Rachel
(Still finding glitter in my tote bag)
🏙️ *Have a NYC secret spot I should explore next? Drop it in the comments! Unless it’s behind a laundromat. I’ve already had that night, and let’s just say… there was a parrot involved. IYKYK.)
