A Pugilist amongst Prada. As seemingly out of place as a boxer in a beauty pageant. So it is with Fanelli’s Cafe in the heart of New York’s SoHo.

The rustic landmark bar with a bright red neon sign hanging high above double glass doors stands stoically on the corner of Prince and Mercer Streets unassumingly dispensing everyman libations, while ever-encroaching high-end retail establishments draw throngs of fashionistas to go slumming through the gallery-laden streets in “designer causal” garb. Perhaps no greater anomaly exists in the former factory and warehouse district south of Houston save the idea of “starving artists” living in $5000 a month lofts.

Founded in 1847, Fanelli’s is a throwback to the beer and burgers joints of old, with its tile floor, boxing memorabilia lining the walls, and a long dark bar tended on most nights, by no nonsense tapsters who realize theirs is a dying breed. Bob, an often-cantankerous mixologist at Fanelli’s is perhaps the best example of the Bruiser/Boozer/Bartender genre that can be found at some of New York’s older tin ceiling establishments. One early evening I watched in bewilderment as Bob emerged from a crawl space behind the bar like a punch-drunk fighter inexplicably answering the final round’s bell, having, it appeared, slept off the remnants of one shift, and though still bleary-eyed, began another.

Even with all its charm, Fanelli’s is not without problems. It can, especially on weekends, get crowded, and if not seated at the bar, the narrow space between the barstools and the row of red and white checker-clothed tables is extremely tight. The bar is very smoker-friendly, as are most of the City’s older taverns, and the blue haze can get as thick as Roberto Duran’s accent, particularly when some foreign visitors stop in to rest their Prada-clad feet.

Fanelli’s however maintains a nice selection of moderately priced beers on tap, and a well-stocked bar to wet the whistle of the most discerning drinker. Hamburgers and fries are of course served, as well as the type of pub fare you would expect from such an establishment, but it is not the grub that keeps Fanelli’s on the short list.

While the bar may not transport you back to a by-gone era, it is the ideal respite for one looking to avoid yet another session of retail therapy in what has become the haute couture walking mall of America. Leave the shopping to the flyweights, and enjoy a few rounds with the champ of SoHo. -C.M.