I used to walk past Jo’s on Elizabeth Street and wonder what it was like inside. From the sidewalk it seemed like a bistro-y place, not too trendy or crowded, though I did once try to meet someone there for dinner and the front room was too packed. We went to BarBossa instead (known in my head as “that place with the black-and-white floor that starts with B and has feijoada and Guinness cake,” which I keep confusing with Barmarché). And so though I remained curious about Jo’s, other places took priority, and I never went.
When Jo’s turned up on Eater’s Where to Eat Wings list, I figured this was the universe telling me it was time to pay Jo’s a visit. I recruited my friend Hannah, who was drawn, as I was, to the advertised happy hour until 8 p.m. We pulled up to the welcoming bar at 7 and there were plenty of seats, always a nice surprise in a neighborhood like Nolita. Continue reading