Brooklyn – Page 4 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Vinegar Hill House

72 Hudson Avenue between Front and Water Streets, near DUMBO Brooklyn
718/522.1018
$40 each for a group of 5, with drinks and tip
♥ ♥

If you’re tired of the lumberjack look because you’ve seen enough of the same style at Freemans, Hearth and even the J. Crew Men’s Shop in TriBeCa, you’re better off going elsewhere. If you like plaid shirts and facial hair, plus a more accommodating service than any of those hipster places in Manhattan, Vinegar Hill House is just your place. (The couple who owns the restaurant met on the job at Freemans.) In a week’s time between my two visits, the vibe in Vinegar Hill House changed dramatically: it was the booze. The restaurant was a little more somber and comforting before they got their liquor license, but now with the hot toddies going around, the buzz is louder and, well, more intoxicating.

A lot has been said about the chicken at Vinegar Hill House and all the good things about it are true: it’s moist and liberally seasoned. But it is still just chicken, and at $16, it should be moist and well-seasoned. The Brussels sprouts were softer during my second visit and I wondered if they were baked that time around instead of roasted. The delicate squares of ravioli were just that, and the pork and trout dishes were without frills. All together, they made a nice meal even if everything is streamlined and very simple, capped with a slice of not-so-Guinness chocolate cake.

I do like a little adventure on my menu and nothing gets me more excited than something out of the box when it comes to classic dishes. I know Jean Adamson is a capable chef, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she brings out the guns as more and more seasonal ingredients come out in the spring. Perhaps it’s to keep Manhattanites away; and in this day and age of too many plaid shirts, that’s just fine with me.

Peter Luger

178 Broadway, right under the Williamsburg Bridge in Brooklyn
718/387-7400
about $350 for five, with a bottle of wine, with tip, cash only
♥ ♥

Our waiter spilled porterhouse juice all over my sister-in-law’s hat. She wasn’t wearing it at the time, but it still sucked when she realized it outside. It was windy and 30 degrees.

I’ve been to Peter Luger several times and like most New Yorkers, I go for the porterhouse and not for the service. Being old school is one thing but the restaurant staff can really use some manners. Our waiter was brash: he grunted and interrupted whenever we had a question and he splashed sauce and fat on our table whenever he served. The attitude could be part of the draw that makes Peter Luger “authentic”, but after paying over a thousand dollars the last six years, you’d think it would at least buy politeness.

The food also hasn’t changed. It’s still the best place to get porterhouse in New York City even though they push every customer to get more than they can eat. (We watch a group of four novices at the next table fall for their bit and order three steaks for two. Their bill was already guaranteed to be $240 before ordering any side dishes or wine.) The bacon is still to die for and the creamed spinach still a good match to a perfectly-cooked piece of meat.

Maybe when I return two years from now, I can finally tune the staff’s attitude out and just eat my steak in peace. For now though, one less heart from the last review.

Islands

803 Washington Avenue between Eastern Parkway and Lincoln Place, Brooklyn
718/398.3575
about $40 for three dishes, without drinks, with tip
♥

No roti today? I wanted to make sure I heard correctly. I was so excited to eat at Islands after hearing favorable reviews on places to eat around the Brooklyn Museum, but eating goat curry without fresh, warm roti to wrap the meat and sop up the yellow sauce with just about killed the experience.

We craned our necks to climb the steep and very narrow stairs to sit where the air conditioning was working properly. With our goat curry, we ordered the Jamaican staple of jerk chicken and the oxtail stew. Whatever disappointment I harbored because I was unable to show off how roti tastes to my friend, who came all the way from New Jersey to hang out with me, disappeared as soon as I had a taste of the oxtail. The meat separated from the large bone right away, with only a slight pull using my fork. I scooped up some of the red orange sauce onto my rice and ate heartily. The chicken was not as jerky as I would like it to be, but we devoured the meat down to the bone. The goat was salty, without the roti and all, so it was barely touched. I would have taken it home if we didn’t plan on being out all day because there’s something about leftover curry that I like.

Walk down Washington Avenue and you’ll see a few more places to while away your time after a visit to the museum or the botanical garden, including Franklin Park beer garden off St. John’s Place, but do yourself a favor and eat island food that will keep you going all day.

Fette Sau

354 Metropolitan Avenue near Havemeyer Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718/963.3404
about $60 for four, with a gallon of beer, without tip
♥ ♥

In case it hasn’t been obvious, I love pork. I was having a bad day and all I wanted was to get a couple of drinks where I can sit outside and enjoy the warm weather. I wanted to forget, even for just a few hours, that a family member was in the hospital. I wanted good food so that I can feel happy in my stomach and then stronger in my heart to accept whatever bad news that may come next. I was even willing to take the L to Brooklyn to find that kind of comfort, as far away from Bellevue Hospital as I could.

I was with great company including Scott Gold, the author of The Shameless Carnivore: A Manifesto for Meat Lovers, and we talked about the experiences he wrote in his book during his quest to eat 31 kinds of meat. (I don’t want to ruin the book for you but among my favorites are the hunting for squirrels, salivating for the caribou and spitting out the bull’s penis.)

He shared his stories as we picked on the oh-so-moist and fatty brisket, spicy and snappy pork sausages and the perfectly cooked pulled pork. We couldn’t deal without some veggies so we also ordered the broccoli and the potato salad–both helped cut the fattiness on our palates. The baked beans were barely touched but I saw through the empty glass gallon of beer by the time we wiped our hands clean with Wet-Naps.

German for “greasy sow”, Fette Sau not only provided a great place to enjoy the warm night air, it also gave me a chance to appreciate and enjoy what was around and in front of me: enjoyable company and a happiness-inducing plate of pork.

egg

135A North 5th Street off Bedford Avenue, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718/302.5151
about $90 for dinner for four, without drinks, without tip
â™¥ â™¥

Updated, December 2008: We closed egg for one Friday night to celebrate my birthday where we had fried chicken, sautéed kale, collard greens, mac-n-Grafton cheese, plus some corn bread and biscuits–all deserves another ♥

I know the owner of egg, that breakfast place in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, with the hipsters waiting outside on weekends. George Weld is a good friend and he also happens to be the chef. Forgive me if this review may seem biased, but I swear I’m not giving anything to this restaurant that’s not well-deserved: three hearts for breakfast and two for dinner.

For years, egg shared space with Sparky’s and only served breakfast until noon. Now, egg has taken over the entire space and is serving lunch (on weekdays only) and dinner until 10pm. A liquor license is on the way. All the menus are still Southern-inspired, and they still get all the ingredients they can from small and local producers. Needless to say, I am happy and proud of the egg family–so we made the trek from Harlem to Williamsburg one weekend to congratulate them.

After a ridiculous 40-minute wait for breakfast, we were finally seated right by the door. A few more diners came in before the waitress put up a note saying that the kitchen was closed until 6pm. People still came in to try and get food, letting in the draft behind me. I was uncomfortable and cold, but our waitress made sure that we got the next table that freed up farther from the entrance. After being transfered, we finally took our coats off and enjoyed our late breakfasts of eggs, grits, scrapple (pork scraps with cornmeal), bacon, hash browns, and pork sausage. For a place full of hipsters, the attitude of the staff makes you feel like you’re not even in New York City. They’re friendly, accommodating, and very patient with the hungry customers.

Given the wait, we took our time to eat and only left when the restaurant was empty. My three-egg Grafton Cheddar omelet was served with broiled tomatoes and hashbrowns. The cheese was sharp, but the tomatoes balanced everything out. I wish the restaurant would offer more side vegetables in the future. I also got a side of sausage at the end. Perfectly salty and juicy, I would choose it over any kind of eggs. Cameron’s cheese grits didn’t last very long. They weren’t too mealy or too soft, and the cheesy tang was perfectly balanced with the creamy texture. And the biscuits–oh, the biscuits–transported us with their crispy edges and fluffy insides. Have I mentioned the lightly sugared donuts brought to our table before our plates arrived?

We spent the rest of our afternoon walking around the neighborhood and checking out the stores down Bedford and Grand. After several drinks at Larry Lawrence, two more people joined us, and we all decided to walk as fast as we could back to the restaurant to eat dinner. We made it before they closed the kitchen at 10pm, but alas, there was no more fried chicken. This was upsetting to our entire party, but we made do with the pork chops and sausage with cabbage, fish and hominy, and perhaps the best dish on the menu, slow-roasted duck and dirty rice.

The menu is straightforward, and the food is hearty. One of my friends was surprised to love the cabbage, but another wished the pork were tastier. My duck was crispy outside and tender inside. The “dirty” rice reminded me of how Filipinos would scrape off the oil and spice bits from the bottom of a pan with rice and serve it just the way it is: dirty. The fish was under-seasoned–we bet a side of fried chicken would have made it taste better! While they’ve got the breakfast down pat, dinner is very new to egg, and it definitely needs to be refined. Never running out of fried chicken would be the perfect place to start.