Gwynett Street--Brooklyn

347.889.7002

Finally.  Dear God, it is about time.  Not only has a restaurant opened in Williamsburg in a much needed  spot off of the Graham Avenue stop, less of course the tragically sinking Motorino, but it has done so in an atypical Brooklyn fashion.  Gwynett street has finally decided to deviate from the Hipster culinary tree, instead pushing the envelope with ambitious cuisine that does not include a) a hanger steak, b) a burger, or c) a mac and cheese.

Originally a pizza shop, turned steakhouse (Catch 22), you wouldn't expect to have your mind blown walking in, as the place hasn't really changed since the last one.  It isn't until you sit down and have all sorts of gourmet delicacies do you realize that you're in for a treat.  Egg dish, nailed it.  Duck?  Off the charts. Whiskey Bread?!?  I mean they make bread with whiskey!    It wasn't until we spoke to the owner that we realized the chef was from WD50 and hired right off of craigslist.  Take that human resources department.

What is most refreshing, aside that we got a seat right away despite the favorable NY Times review, was the fact it wasn't trying to be Brooklyn.  The decor didn't scream turn-of-the-century chic.  There weren't vested, mustached, tattooed dudes tending bar (though I think one of them did have a tattoo).  It was refreshing to step outside of the dining hegemony that has plagued gentrification of this borough for too long.  It is the beginning of the revolution comrades, and we will rally around Gwynett Street.

Bellwether--Brooklyn

347.529.4921

What a surreal experience beloved nine. Royal oak, once the smaller star in the binary drinking system that was union avenue, converted itself into a restaurant. Seriously, this place is like a cross between Sweetwater and Walter's Foods. Take a raw bar, simple american menu, and combine it with a re-vamped and sanitized former water hole (though Sweetwater had much, much more cache, and in a much too long aside is why Union Pool became the larger star in the binary system) and presto a restaurant. And it seems to be doing just fine as we watched this place that is maybe a month old turn away young thirty-something couple after young thirty-something couple. Mark my words, as they seem to have a predictive quality to them, not only will this place survive in spades due to its proximity to the Emerald City that is Bloomberg's tax abatement, but it will also add more seating between the bar and newly apholstered booths to meet said demand.

Enough of this, Iconman, how's the food? Good but a little over thought. It certainly isn't going to have the same culinary intelligence of Diner or ISA, but at the same time they're trying to satistfy just about everyone with a little of this a little of that approach. I had the "blackened chicken," which is really more of a rip off of Bilboque's cajun chicken, and it wasn't horrendous just not necessarily inspired. My wife had a special, it was with ramps and was okay.  My shrimp cocktail had a hair in it. Who cares? The fact I can walk here in the middle of winter great outweighs the occasional eyelash or trimmed pube.

I think my drum beat of pointing out the obvious is finally being heard. Well, by nine followers that is. Any who, this place is worth checking out, though not necessarily worth going out of your way. I'm sure, by sheer necessity, I'll come here again. Hopefully, they'll bring back the free foosball.