Lucien--Manhattan

212.260.6481

Man oh man. There's so many restuarants in this fucking city that it seems all but impossible to keep up. And forget Williamsburg/Greenpoint, every day another place is popping up selling local sustainable products. Just what I need, more green mac and cheese. That's why I love the East Village, because if you can last there more than a year, and you have a solid lease, you'll be there for a decade or two. Enter Lucien, the cute little French place on 1st Avenue.

What makes this place so special? Well for one, it's authentically simple. It's French. The cuisine is French, the staff is French, the menu is in French, you know what you're getting. Secondly, it's cozy and quaint but at the same time sociable and boisterous. It's a local French place. It doesn't rely on a bridge and tunnel scene, or perhaps a foodie network of adventurous eaters, it does what it does and the people in the neighborhood come and go and are generally happy that it exists for them to come and get a table in an unabashed French place. Lastly, it's well balanced between reasonably priced and fine food quality.

Iconman? What's this? Why aren't you talking about the hot skinny looking mime that always seems to work there (she does)? Or the way the gay host/waiter was so touchy feely he got you half mast with his little back massage (he did)? What's this tame, almost seemingly professional review of a boring, neighborhood French place? What happened?

Well beloved nine truth be told enough hair has fallen out of my head that I've learned that a steady dose of asshole (even when it's so well written) gets a little boring. This place checks out. And I suggest checking it out.

Other Restaurants--Brooklyn

I've hit a few places lately that have not been note worthy enough to justify an entire post.

Rabbit Hole:
718.782.0910
This place is on the southside of Williamsburg and I'd walked by it a zillion times wondering what it must be like. It was on Bedford and seemed to have all of the ingredients. Nice Garden, check. Long bar with tasty beer, check. Semi-attractive seemingly artisinal staff who are well educated but clearly working at Rabbit Hole to make ends meat, check.

The occasion was my wife's birthday. She wanted a no frills dinner with just the closest of friends so it was me, my wife, ,my other wife, and my other wife's husband. We sat outside becuase we all like to be attacked by mosquitos. It's a freaky sadistic polyamorous thing.

This was a month or so ago so all I can really say is what I jotted down in my journal:
Food boo
Service booer

Evidently I somehow rattled one of the Annie De Franco wannabe waitresses. Couldn't imagine how.

Le Gamin:
718.770.7918
This restaurant is a manifestation of the inevitable development that is Greenpoint Avenue near the East River. With the park going in, and the anchor that is the Pencil Factory, it was just a matter of time before cute little rustic french places sprouted up all over the place.

I checked this restaurant out for brunch, and would be lying if I didn't say that I was unabashedly hung over. And they nailed it. Granted, I had to drink Kronenbourg (the French may have good wine but I'm not crazy about their beer) but I also inhaled a croque madame that was so good it hurt. Le Gamin is cash only, but wisely--dare I say appropriately-- they have an ATM right inside of the restaurant. Smrt.

Saraghina:
718.574.0010
This might be the only place in town to eat in Bedstuy. Seriously, I think the name of this restaurant translates to: "first place of gentrification." It's cute, folky, and right in the middle of what most would consider a gehtto. It's also slow as shit.

I went with the team, on a Sunday night and the place was chaulk-a-block full of artfully minded white people. The Italian cuisine was fresh, but somewhat plain and average. Nothing jumped out at me other than it was so slammed it took us 20 minutes to get the motherfucking check. I imagine for patrons that are also local inhabitants of the neighborhood, the food tastes so great because they are lucky to be alive when they arrive. These same maniacs also don't mind waiting for the check because they don't want to leave after dark. Yup, that's right, I said those things.