If you know Anthony Bourdain, you know he wasn’t chasing velvet ropes or pristine dining rooms–he was chasing places with stories, characters, and just the right amount of chaos. And in New York City, few spots captured that spirit quite like quite like Siberia.
Tucked inside the downtown 1/9 subway station in Hell’s Kitchen back in its heyday, the bar was equal parts after-hours refuge and full blown fever dream: plastic cups of beer, a jukebox humming The Velvet Underground, and a rotating crowdd of cooks, strippers, journalists, and night owls who had no intention of calling it early.
As Bourdain once put it, one drink in and he was set–“I’m not going anywhere.”
Siberia first opened in 1996 in a former video store, then was forced out by its landlord and unceremoniously closed in 2001. It later reopened a few blocks away on Ninth Avenue, only to shut down again in 2007.
Now, nearly two decades after last call, Siberia–Bourdain’s self-declared “favorite bar on Earth”–is back.
Yes, that Siberia: the notoriously grimy, anything-goes dive where all kinds of New Yorkers mixed together, where Jimmy Fallon was a post-show regular in his SNL days, and where the night could easily veer off in any direction.
Today, the bar lives inside the Turnstyle Underground Market at Columbus Circle.
It’s still as compact as ever: a 750-square-foot space with eight bar stools, an eight-foot bar, and 12-foot ceilings. There’s no bathroom on site–patrons use Turnstyle’s communal restroom elsewhere with a keypad code.
But that stripped down setup is part of the appeal–along with the signature crimson lighting that gives the space its unmistakable glow.
It’s cash-only, but you won’t need too much of it. Tracy Westmoreland, the bar’s original owner (who also refers to himself as the “Minister of Propaganda”), keeps drinks cheaper than other bars in the neighborhood, and staffs it with people he knows and trusts rather than polished mixologists.
The soundtrack hasn’t strayed far from the original either–it still leans into punk, rock, outlaw country, and pop-punk, though the nicotine-stained jukebox that used to house some of Bourdain’s own personal CDs has been replaced with a TouchTunes setup.
There are also a few house rules: no politics, no being a creep, and no fruit in cocktails. As Westmoreland has said, Siberia is meant to be welcoming to everyone–provided they’re respectful. Westmoreland told The Post:
Siberia is a bar that welcomes everybody. It’s a place where famous writers would sit next to down-and-out strippers. If you’re cool, come on in, and stay out if you’re a bigot, a–hole or racist.
After years of being remembered as one of New York’s most mythologized dives, Siberia’s return feels like a reminder that in this city, even the most chaotic institutions never quite disappear–they just wait for the right moment to resurface.
Bourdain once described the scene like this:
You never know who’s going to be draped over couches or listening to live bands in the dungeon-like cellar–rock-and-rollers, off-duty cops, drunken journos, cast and crew from ‘Saturday Night Live,’ slumming fashionistas, post-work chefs, kinky politicos, out-of-work bone breakers, or nodding strippers. It’s heaven.
Know before you go
- 📍 Where: 57th Street–Eighth Avenue subway entrance
- 🗓️ When: Mon–Sat: 4:30pm–4am (closed Sundays)