WarrenPeace: An Albanian Bar with a Tolstoy Twist Wows Tribeca

A “Tom and Jerry” cartoon from the 1940s plays silently on the only television above the bar at WarrenPeace, though nobody is really watching. Despite its name referencing the Russian Leo Tolstoy’s weighty tome, the cocktail bar and kitchen at 77 Warren St., between West Broadway and Greenwich Street is, like its owner, Briken Fejzullai, actually of Albanian descent, more or less.

Meanwhile, as Greek music drifts through the room, Fejzullai, notices a reporter looking up at the television. ”You can come here alone and still have a smile on your face when you see Tom and Jerry running around,” he says.

The comment arrives naturally, as though he has been thinking about it for years. Before long, he is explaining the music, the lighting and the atmosphere with the enthusiasm of someone showing off a home rather than a business. Rather than speaking from behind the bar, Fejzullai has pulled up a chair at a nearby table. Minutes into the conversation, a glass of water appears without either of us asking for it.

For Fejzullai, hospitality, seems less like a profession than a personality trait.

When he opened WarrenPeace on Warren Street four years ago, the cocktails were never the whole point.

”We wanted our customers, after work, to feel like home,” he says.

In a neighborhood suspended between Tribeca and the Financial District that idea has become the bar’s identity. The challenge was not creating another cocktail bar. Downtown Manhattan has plenty of those already. The challenge was creating a place people would actually want to stay.

Fejzullai’s path to New York began nearly 5,000 miles away in Tirana, Albania. His first restaurant job arrived almost by accident in the mid-1990s, when a friend asked him to help out at a family-owned bar that was struggling with staffing issues. What began as a few shifts each week quickly became something more permanent.

”I kind of fell in love with this thing,” he says. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

Thirty years later, he still talks about hospitality with the excitement of someone discovering it for the first time. He worked his way through nearly every position imaginable, from busboy to server, before moving to Milan at 19 and spending a decade in Italy’s restaurant scene. Later, he returned to Albania, where he helped open bars, restaurants and nightlife venues across the country.

Then he came to New York.

Give Me The Streets of Manhattan!

Although Fejzullai officially moved to the city in 2020, the idea had been lingering much longer. He first visited more than a decade earlier and never quite forgot it.

”I think New York is the most welcoming city in the world,” he says.

Few places, he argues, bring together so many cultures, languages and backgrounds and somehow make them coexist within the same few square miles.

That appreciation for different cultures is visible throughout WarrenPeace because it mirrors the way Fejzullai sees the city itself. The playlist jumps between countries. The staff come from different backgrounds. The atmosphere feels intentionally difficult to categorize.

”We wanted to have a small world inside New York,” he says.

In some ways, the bar mirrors Fejzullai’s own journey: shaped by Albania, refined in Italy, and ultimately rebuilt in Lower Manhattan.

The space previously housed Warren 77, a sports bar that closed before the pandemic. Fejzullai could have preserved much of what was already there. Instead, he stripped the interior down and rebuilt it around a completely different vision.

”It wasn’t my place,” he says bluntly. “It wasn’t my vibe.”

The answer comes quickly, without hesitation. He laughs slightly as he says it, but the conviction is obvious. Whatever WarrenPeace was going to become, it was never going to be another sports bar.

Every detail was chosen intentionally because Fejzullai chose it himself. The warm lighting. The vintage decor. The old cartoons playing overhead without sound. The music pulled from countries most customers would struggle to locate on a map. Nothing demands attention, yet everything contributes to the atmosphere he imagined.

The effect feels surprisingly European, not because it imitates any specific city, but because it seems unconcerned with chasing trends.

The WarrenPeace menu mixes Albanian add more general Balkan/Mediterranean influences with American ones to offer fare like Qofte Pazari (Beef and Pork Kebab, Aioli, Pickled Onions, Pita, Traditional Blend of Albanian Herbs); Lamb Comlek Sliders (Pulled Lamb Shoulder, Vidalia Onions, Scallions, Garlic Confit, Goat Cheese, Arugula); Albanian Fërgesë (Albanian Ricotta Cheese, Red Pepper, Tomatoes, Onions, Beef Cheeks, Ciabatta) and a Black-and-Blue Burger (8+ oz house hanger patty, gorgonzola dolce, house BBQ, waffle fries).

The televisions provide movement without becoming the center of attention. The music creates background rather than spectacle. Even the room itself seems designed to encourage conversation instead of interrupting it. The philosophy extends beyond the decor.

Ask Fejzullai about the most important part of running a bar and he does not mention cocktails. Nor does he mention revenue, branding or social media strategy. Instead, he talks about people.

”We choose staff that are great human beings,” he says.

The distinction matters to him. Technical skills can be taught, yet kindness cannot. It is a theme he returns to repeatedly throughout the conversation.

”You can’t replace a great human being with a robot or AI in this industry,” he says. ”Once they know you, it’s completely amazing.”

The affection appears genuine. Throughout the conversation, he speaks about Tribeca less as a market and more as a community. The neighborhood has embraced WarrenPeace, but Fejzullai seems equally grateful to have found a place within it.

Four years after opening, his ambitions remain remarkably modest. ”I would love to have this place even 20 years from now,” he says. “And with my team.”

As the afternoon begins to give way to evening, another familiar face walks through the door. Fejzullai pauses the conversation to greet them. The gesture seems almost automatic. Above him, Tom and Jerry continue their endless chase across the television screen. Nobody is really watching anymore.