Ahoy, mateys, step aboard -- the interior be lookin' like the hull of a ship, yet the clientele be lookin' like they just came from landlubberly finance jobs downtown, scurvy curs washed ashore from a fancy watering hole on Upper Polk Street, all of which they did. While there's ample J. Crew-itude to be found, a refreshing dose of kitschy familiarity is on tap at the Buccaneer, replete with a killer happy hour and a good-sized pool table. There's a big squat iron stove, which is rarely... More »
