Siberia Bar

The REAL Siberia was in the subway (50^th Street station). And it WAS a dive. True sub-​culture hideout. The entire bar was the size of a large closet. Great drinks and great boozy times were had by all. It was the first of the «modern speakeasy» — ya had to know about it to go.
I didn’t realize it ever went «above ground.»
I miss the old subway version. So few of MY NYC places exist any more…

bummer this place closed. what a cavern of debauchery this place once was… oh the nonexistent memories…

I am so sad this place closed. There was really no place like it. RIP Siberia. :(

SUCKS that this place closed. This was the first bar I went to when I took a random trip to NYC. I also saw Peelander-​Z and the Octopus Project play here in the basement, which I think is a cool place to watch shows. The folks I’ve encountered here were nice and I had no problems. I also got shitfaced drunk and waited for a Greyhound bus totally inebriated. By myself. Whatever.
Also, the bathroom in the basement doesn’t leave much for privacy, but I consider that part of the charm.

This review is purely for reminiscent purposes. Ahhh. Siberia. I miss your spinny barstools and pervy bartenders. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! And that dude from SNL in your jukebox. What is that all about? I miss your bull and your bathroom with the hole in the door. I think the guy that owns this place likes to ban people. I will never forget the Christmas Eve I spent spinning around on that barstool at Siberia while the snow floated down in Times Square.

When did they move out of the subway? I liked the tiny little Siberia of the old days. I don’t even KNOW this place.

Very bad experience at this place. Despite its pretentions as a «dive bar» it is nothing of the sort. Dark and dingy, yes, but the clientele is anything but dangerous, as the prominently displayed sign inside the door «No Cursing, No Hitting on Women» should clearly indicate. Well, I got a mouth like a drunken, angry sailor with Tourettes, so the owner advised me of the rules, I got into an argument with him and was ejected. No, the bouncer didn’t bundle me, they just cut me off and asked me to leave. In a REAL dive bar if the owner wanted me out two brickhouses would put me out on my head. This is a dive bar for yuppies and hipsters who don’t really want to go to the real deal.
That Stacy guy also owns a bar called «Bellevue Bar» around the corner, a more raucous affair with more of a punk rock spirit, where apparently patrons aren’t censored and are allowed to have fun in a bar the old-​fashioned way. If you must give this guy your business, go to the Bellevue.

I’m a sucker for the hidden, the filthy, and the cheap. This place is all three, and then some. I’ve never been happier to walk into a bar in New York than I was when I first stepped into this place. Not for the faint at heart.

Great place where anything can happen, yes the owner is a bit excentric and yes the crowd can be wierd, but its truly the last of it’s kind an underground dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen.

Going here makes me feel like I know a secret– there’s no sign on the door, and there’s nothing else around. Inside it’s exactly the kind of dive bar I love– dark, moody and great music.

I remember when I used to come here, only it was in the subway. Literally down the subway stairs. Sigh. Siberia, you had the greatest jukebox, the most interesting people, and the most punk fucking rock environment that a girl from Philly could ask for. I wish I could say that I’ve been to this new locale, but this review was created to honor the sweet memories I have.

You may walk by this bar without ever realizing it, a small metal door with a red light atop it will lead you into this two floor bar. A bit dirty, but in the worn-​in pair of jeans sort of way. Check it out on wednesday nights, when you can hear 2 awesome up-​and-​coming dj’s.