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.