Total Backlog part 1--Brooklyn

Holy moley, the busy season does this to a fellow. My little scribble pad is full of places that I've vowed to review, only to not review. Many of these are antiquated, but probably still relevant.

The Meatball Shop--Williamsburg:

718.551.0520

Right in the center of the universe for Williamsburg, this place seemed to come out of nowhere one day and replace an old card shop (I think?). There's a few in the city, so like other local LES franchises (Grif dog's and San Loco to name a few) these guys decided to capitalize by exploiting their demographic. Anyway, it has all of the hipster fixins: marble bar, turn of the century vibe, and comfort food. Seems like a recipe for success, but how could they make it different enough to stand out from all of the other places doing the exact same thing? By using a dry erase marker on a jarring and poorly designed laminated menu to select your meatballs? Stupendous!

So there's this over-designed menu to contend with, and since I'm sitting at the bar trying to make sense of it, and the bartender is too busy rehearsing his bit to help us, how about a decent pilsner draft beer? PBR, the only option, is totally insufficient. And why I'm on the subject of the bar, I appreciate a comedian/bartender as much as the next asshole, but how about a little less joking around and a little more pouring my pisswater beer? The meatballs, on the other hand, are as good as advertised. Too bad they make it overly confusing to order and hire jackass bartenders.

Trix--Williamsburg:
347.599.0702

Speaking of overly designed, walk a few blocks north and you run into Trix. Completely re-done in all painted wood, this place was a florist shop for years, but eventually like everything Polish in this neighborhood transformed into a wooden bar with cute hipster waitresses.

Oddly, we ate here the night before the infamous Irene rain storm that came through. We had oysters, bruschetta with artichoke, and fries. I can't comment too much as this is way distant (more distant than I've ever gone before!) but I can say that I haven't been since--meaning I definitely didn't shit myself with excitement. Though, to be fair, it's hard to get that excited eating oysters. Unless, of course, they're very, very bad oysters.

Fat Goose--Williamsburg:
718.963.2200

This place is the culmination of someone trying to grasp the whole hipster Brooklyn thing by reading about it and replicating from magazine clippings. And boy oh boy, there's nothing worse than seeing a restaurant with hard working people destined to fail. The last time I wrote that was about the Clerkinwell in the LES and I was proven wrong. Much in the same vain I hope I'm wrong about this place, but we were here with my entire family the night before Thanksgiving and they had maybe, I'm being generous here, ten covers. The staff was clearly bored and worse, were used to it.

The chef came and served a lot of the stuff herself (clear sign of a dead restaurant--as she even had time to comment about a bad yelp post) which was a bummer because one of the appetizer specials was about as delectable as gravy train which made the fact we didn't eat it a little awkward when she came back. The entrees were all prepared well, and the vision of a game influenced menu is cool, but this place is too new, too polished, trying too hard. A game influenced menu should have a rustic vibe, not an overly varnished strip mall pedestal-table vibe.

The chef seemed sincere and was quite pleasant, too bad that doesn't equate to success in this town.

ISA--Brooklyn

(347) 689-3594

Pretty exciting one for me, only because the moment I have been waiting for has arrived. You see, I was at this place the exact same time as NY times reviewer Eric Asimov. This allows me to see how I work as a sort of litmus test against perhaps my most evasive (and newfangled) nemesis. Let's not forget the NY times and my history. It was them that took my idea of an occasional restaurant review and ran with it, leaving me to have a registered readership of nine while they stole all of the glory. It was them that rejected my resume time after time after time. It was the NY Times that publishes it's newspaper! This is my chance to show them what a real restaurant review is about. The facts: how hot was the server? How was the food? How well did they maintain my buzz while I checked out the server? Well, now we finally have the exact same dining experience to compare just who writes the better review:

As for a caveat, it is unfortunate that the person behind the bar was an old acquaintance/server at a previous restaurant. It's hard to write objectively about a friend's endeavor. I hereby declare using the scouts honor gang sign that I'm totally objective:

My Review:
Sat at the bar with the old wife after driving around looking for a place that wasn't going to serve us comfort food with some sort of Williamsburg gimick. Fortunately we found ISA, a quasi diner-esque venue opened by the same guys who made having a beard cool at Freeman's. We knew the bartender, which warranted us a few mistakenly made cocktails that were interesting but not shit-yourself-good. The place looked like it was made by a bunch of wood shop nerds. Seriously, wooden bar stools, wooden stools, wooden walls wood everywhere. There were a bunch of 30-something, feel-good, sustainable-eating, bohemian types, some of who were good looking enough to potentially give me, ehem, well you know.

The food? Complicated. I didn't have to ask to know that it was going to be preservative free, farm fresh, organically grown, delicately harvested, etc.. but that doesn't necessarily lead to deliciousness. It only means that you have a good conscious at best and have the right to be snobby to all other inhabitants of the US that are not rich or New Yorkers at worst. Was it good? Yes. The tar tar was superb as was the bread but the simple menu was a little too healthy for me. My wife on the other hand had a total boner meaning it was tasty and nutritious.

End of my review.

Their Review:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/23/dining/reviews/isa-nyc-restaurant-review.html?pagewanted=all

I don't need you to tell me how superior my review is so don't bother, I already know.

Rosarito Fish Shack--Brooklyn

718.388.8833

Man oh man how times change. For many, many years this was the Williamsburg Cafe, then it changed to some restaurant with Sunny chef who's now back at the Essex house (Sunny made these awesome pork-brain dumplings one time at this pig roast, it's a long story by I ended up with sporks and tortillas in my hair and bit Bill Phelps on the dick at union pool) before it shuttered once again. I know this isn't very interesting to many people, but seeing a neighborhood like Williamsburg rapidly change is an odd and somewhat unnerving experience. I had brunch with both of my parents at the Williamsburg cafe, sitting below a wagon wheel that was suspended but what must have been velcro. My parents are divorced now. So there's that to think about.

The fish shack lost the cheesey tex mex vibe to install a more Latin feel. I'm not sure they pulled it off, but one thing is for sure: they serve fish. Fish tacos, fish ceviches, fish, fish fish. We went on a Sunday, With wife, other husband, other wife, and other husband's brother (other brother in law?) as I'm in the busy season and this is the only spare time I have. Our waitress suffered from news caster syndrome: the jarring switch from perfect English to perfectly pronounced Spanish when reciting the menu.

I made the mistake of trusting her to get me the best dish on the menu: which happened to be a fish stew that was comprised of everything about to spoil. It was good and hearty though. I had a bunch of margaritas so I'm not sure of anything else. Both wives said food was kind of bland, especially the crab tostada. But that white girl sure could say taquitos convincingly.

A little of this a little of that...

Hi there good people. Another one of those posts that has a bunch of restaurants that were okay:
Elephant and Castle: West Village
212.243.1200

Went here on a Friday night and were actually pretty psyched. I'm not sure what we had, I think a burger and some fish, but it was cute, quaint, understated and an overall pleasant experience. I'm also not sure why I jotted down the waiter thanked us, though if I had to guess it's because he probably thanked us for something. Which is odd, my expected comment from a waiter ranges from "go away" to "get the hell out."


Isle of Capris--Upper East Side
212.223.9430

Holy shit this place is a time warp. Multi-roomed, cheese-balled out, and authentically corny Iatlien, this is everything your Grandmother remembers about fancy places from yesteryear.

Only in New York would a place like this exist. For one the wiaters all wear cheesy bowties and vests that are covered in the thin film of three hundred shifts without a dryclean. They have a crazy olive jar Antipasto table set up right smack in the middle, and I'd say just about every guest there is over the age of 65.

This sort of authenticity really wears thin when you realize that every entree is at least thirty bucks. Some places should have closed years ago, like this one.


Tabare--Williamsburg
347.335.0187

Sick of the bar food at Walter's we decided to try this place just one block south on South 1st street. It's this little Argentine number opened a bit ago by two gay dudes who were there that night. Let me tell you, we were pretty psyched as at least 50% of the menu is a combination of meat and cheese.

I had the cheese empinadas and they were fantastic. Gooey, messy, and full of cholesterol and other things sure to kill me. Then I followed that up with the skirt steak bam, take that still-beating heart. Wifey wife wasn't as psyched on her steak sandwich. Anywho it wasn't a culinary epiphany, but comforty in a Latin sort of way; a decent place if you're in a pinch and can't get a seat at Rye or Walters.

Roman's--Brooklyn

(718) 622-5300

I finally made it over here after years of accolades from my other wife, who moved to Fort Greene after deciding that Williamsburg has sold out. I'm not sure if that's here official position, but considering she won't comment if I'm wrong, I'm gonna stick with it. For those of you beloved nine that don't know Fort Greene there's not too much too it. There's a big steep park with a fort, just south of Flushing Ave. If you live in Manhattan then Fort Greene is one of those neighborhoods you drive through while lost looking for some God forsaken brownstone. It's that memorable.

As for the mighty Roman's: from what I understand this is a second under taking from the folks at Diner in the same location, the first being the second incarnation of Bonita. Bonita part deux closed and re-opened as Roman's as a sort of quasi gourmet comfort food that we have grown accustomed to after all these years from Broadway and Berry. I just ate there and managed to not get too drunk, so what we had for dinner is still fresh in my sodden mind:

Two crustini: Chicken Liver pate and some sort of Chick Pea concoction.

String bean salad with a poached egg
Spaghetti and meatballs
Tortellini
Round steak with hen of the woods mushrooms
Cheese plate
two sorbets: Chocolate and Fruitish. The chocolate was heavily salted mind you.
Butter cookies

My actual wife was quite late so we ate a lot of food over the course of about two hours. And just how was it? Well, pretty good I suppose. But not great. It's interesting, the atmosphere, the wine, the service, all top notch. If I'd been drinking or if the night had not been out of synch, (having to wait for an hour for one of your party will do that to you) then I would think that Roman's was out of this world. They were also nice enough to seat us still incomplete, which is rare these days.

The problem with Romans, and Moto, and Five Leaves, and Dumont, and Franky's, and Diner, and Hotel de Mano, and the Bedford, and that new uber beer Garden in Greenpoint, and Northeast Kingdom,, and Walters, and Rye, and the Richardson, and god knows what else is opening in the next six months is that it's been done! I guess that's why the perfectly good food is boring. When is someone in the greater Brooklyn area open up a restaurant that makes out of this world French? Or Italian? Or Russian? Or Chinese? Why can't Brooklyn have a Shun Lee palace? Or Nobu? And not in the old world style that is so cache, but a new, sexy, white linen Italian restaurant run by serious restaurateurs? One or eight comes to mind. We need more of that.

In the meantime I'll take Roman's as it is all I've got. But I have to say this whole turn of the century Brooklyn Brand thing is starting to get a little old.

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.