Thank you! Your submission has been received!
Oops! Something went wrong while submitting the form.
Login or sign up to save places and get the Catskill Crew Newsletter.
Inside Antique Palace Emporium, shelves crowd with old estate treasures and the hush of slow hunting settles in. Light from the front windows falls over stacked lamps, postcards, and plenty of Borscht Belt nostalgia.
Sun filters in through wide display windows and hits rows of glass, silver, and estate jewelry. The main floor bustles lightly, while downstairs the air cools and old cupboards crowd together. Pieces from every era line the walls—button hooks to bottle collections, Depression glass to campaign tables.
Tucked into a historic structure on Main Street, Catskill Mountain Spa keeps a gentle, unhurried pace. Light pours through tall windows across tiled floors, hushed music drifting between softly lit treatment rooms.
Screens slam, voices echo across the lawn, and grills get fired up out back as the day settles. Classic Catskills bungalows—simple, worn, and ready for the next round of tag or a nap in the sun.
Bridge and Tunnel Brewery pours a different sort of energy into Liberty, NY. Sunlight spills over chunky wood tables, hop and malt mingle in the air, and the din rises with each game and board pulled from the shelf.
A low-lit bar with laughter drifting in from the pool table, grill smoke in the air, and a bartender who remembers faces. Burgers hit the griddle as folks gather round for wings and the latest ballgame on TV.
Sunlight cuts across small tables as staff move quickly, stacking plates and pouring Thai iced tea. There’s laughter and the scent of chilies trailing out to John Street each afternoon.
The steady rotation of families, workers, and campers keeps Liberty Pizza humming from lunch through sundown. Ovens bake all day, the smell of cheese blends with scattered Hebrew and English chatter by the counter.
Casa Di Longobardi hums with the sound of customers chatting over plates that could've come straight from a grandmother's kitchen. The scent of bubbling red sauce hangs in the air, punctuated by the clatter of cutlery and shouts of welcome from behind the counter.
You step inside under fluorescent lights, fryers humming behind the counter, and plates hitting the laminate table. Staff keep things moving, while regulars drift in and out as the day passes.
Sunlight bounces off spotless tiles and the kitchen hums in the background. Orders move fast, the scent of spices drifts past tables scattered with platters and bubble teas.
Step inside Star Bar and Grill and you’re hit with frying onions and the clang of spatulas. Four tables, a sturdy bar, TVs with the game, and regulars trading stories over crisp pints.
The counter hums, pans snap, and someone always seems to know the owner by name. Sunlight hits the dining room and spills over to the patio, where platters land fast and laughter rides the breeze.
The hum of conversation, shuffleboard clacks, and the scent of burgers on the grill make White Sulphur Springs Inn feel straight from a Catskills postcard. Taps run cold, locals hold the bar, and the plates come out quick and hearty.
Morning light brightens the chrome and formica, with families and old-timers trading stories over eggs. Pots of coffee come quick, and the room always feels familiar.
The walk in is familiar—bright counters, the scent of baking dough, old friends at the waiting bench, and the constant shuffle from oven to counter. Pies are still pulled hot, slices crisp and folded, with chatter from regulars drifting between bites.
Summer afternoons here moved by slow-play and breezes across the rolling terrain, with quiet pockets that felt a world away from town. The clubhouse sat above it all, simple and sun-faded, with regulars lingering at the bar.
Joint Jungle runs on a steady Catskills rhythm—no hurry, just bright cases, regulars at the counter, and music rolling in from Mill Street. Light lands on glass jars, staff greet by name, and everyone gets a minute to browse.
Step inside and you get a blast of wood smoke and chatter, walls scribbled with messages, and paper napkins stacked high. You might catch the tail end of a Hank Williams song, or see someone passing a rack of ribs over to a neighbor.
