The 2.5 Hour Wait

I understand that this is a recession and that people don't want to spend a lot on food.  I get it.  And I understand how "cool" it is to know about the "best pizza in Brooklyn."  Fine, whatever.  But here's what I don't get: the streets of Carroll Gardens are completely abandoned, since everyone's left for the holiday weekend.  Why, then, is the woman at Lucali quoting a 2.5 hour wait at 6:15 the night before the Fourth of July?

Because, dear readers, it is now "cool" to spend $24 on an admittedly very good pizza (my dining companion last night: "this is as good as it gets.").  Yes, the pizza is delicious, thin, larger than the pies at Roberta's or Franny's or Co.  But toppings--even basil--cost extra.  And they're cash only.  And then there's the wait. 

We had been at Clover Club first for some swizzles and pate (very good stuff, fyi), because Lucali isn't supposed to open until 6:30.  Well, that was a flat-out lie.  Lucali takes phone reservations and seats VIPs willy-nilly anyway.  You can bet your bottom dollar Jay-Z ain't waiting three hours for a table.  No way, no how.  When we rolled up at 6:15, the dining room was full and there was already a 2.5 hour wait.  I put my name on the list and gave the frustrated host my phone number and then ambled over to Prime Meats for a soft pretzel and some rum punch, served from a scalloped crystal punch bowl in tiny handled punch cups.  The pretzel came with an addictive honey mustard.  I'm told the other snacks are equally delicious.  Next time.  

I did get to eat at Lucali, but by then I was tired and a little woozy with punch.  Our large pie was sufficiently crunchy but the service was worse than bad.  A redeeming feature of Lucali is that you bring your own wine, so you won't blow your budget on crappy Chianti.  And the atmosphere--candle-lit, aromatic, and centered around the guy stretching dough and shaving buffala mozzarella in the back--is more than pleasant.  You could eat pizzas here all day, if they'd let you (and they wouldn't; once the table is finally yours, it's order in, patrons out).  

The best bet for a Lucali pie is takeout--you can pick up your pie 30 minutes after order time, which seems like the time-saver of the century.  And I guess it beats Grimaldi's, which we drove past and which boasted a line stretching three or four city blocks.  All in the name of good pizza.  Maybe that's the necessary sacrifice we make to look cool in these empty-wallet days of 2009.  

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Clover Club

210 Smith Street

Brooklyn, NY 11201

718.855.7939

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Prime Meats

465 Court Street

Brooklyn, NY 11231

718.254.0327

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Lucali

575 Henry Street

Brooklyn, NY 11231

718.858.4086

Outdoor Seating

For a friend's birthday last night, I headed out to the newly re-opened Trout in Carroll Gardens.  Trout is cute and reminiscent of a bad Caribbean beach bar.  And I mean that in the best way possible.  

The menu is limited.  Our burger arrived on a slightly stale bun and our Niman Ranch hot dog, while flavorful and large, lacked the adornments I have come to expect (what, no onions?).  Also, they were out of the "watermelon with wildflower honey," which is probably meant to be a mid-summer special anyway.  

But the kitsch was worth the trip.  My friends drank hurricanes out of plastic Coors Light cups.  Those drinks, never quite as potent in the islands, came topped with a heavy hand's worth of Bacardi 151, enough to get the average drinker more than averagely soused.  For the record.  

Today, I ventured out in the rain once more for yet another outdoor dining experience.  Habana Outpost, in Fort Greene, is really the kind of restaurants that all restaurants should be aiming to replicate.  They're sustainable.  In the realest way possible.  They collect rainwater from gutter drains into big buckets.  They use plastic cup made from recycled corn.  Solar panels above the restaurant patio collect and store energy.  A smoothie blender is actually powered by--get this--a human on a bicycle. 

So I could look past the cash only thing (a pet peeve), as well as the fact that the Cuban didn't live up to Casellula's Pig's Ass.  Anyway, the corn on a stick, grilled and rolled in queso blanco, lime juice, and chili powder, more than made up for the passable sandwich.  

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Trout

102 Smith Street

Brooklyn, NY 11201

718.935.1294

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Habana Outpost

757 Fulton Street

Brooklyn, NY 11217

718.858.9500

Carb Loading, I

Countdown to the first half-marathon of 2009, which forgives the pizza addiction, because all good runners should overdo the carbohydrates before a race.  Tonight will be a carb-loading sesh as well, but I'll get to that tomorrow. 

Yesterday afternoon I headed to Carroll Gardens for a run with a friend and to visit said friend's husband, who recently had ankle surgery and is immobile.  Immobile, drugged up, but still hungry.  Around six, he announced that he wanted pizza.  If I'd brought my car, rather than making the trek via F train, I would have driven to the bridge and picked up a Grimaldi's pie.  Alas, no car.  According to my friends, the pizza in CG is ubiquitously "fine," with the exception of two exceptional places, neither of which deliver.  So we settled for fine.  

"Fine" came in the form of a very large pie from Francesco's on Henry Street.  Here are some details: the slices themselves were, true to form, real NY slices, cut big, pizzeria style; the cheese was ample; the crust and underbelly were not crisp enough for my liking; the peppers and onions (on half) were fresh though I didn't try the spinach/onion half; the sauce was nothing more than decent.  

All in all, the pizza gets a B.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm being hard on delivery.  Most of the time, pizza is crispiest right out of the oven and this baby was probably no exception.  I think the steamy nature of the pizza-warming bag changes the structure of the pizza, so maybe it's hard to get a good sense of how good the pie is from a delivery environment.  

I will tell you this: I am a big fan of the oversized slice and I was happy to see a solid pie arrive with more than the fast food pizza joint's anemic little slices.  So all was not lost. 

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Francesco's

531 Henry Street

Brooklyn, NY 11231

718.834.0863

Chillin Out, Maxin, Relaxin All Cool...

Ten points for whomever can identify the title quote.

I went to Carroll Gardens last night to have someone cook for me, a nice change of pace. I had plans to hit up Spicy and Tasty in Flushing but they fell through. Getting people to commit to Flushing is really hard, let me tell you.

First, I ended up at the apartment of a friend of a friend of a friend. Apartment resident baked fresh chocolate chip cookies. I am a complete and total sucker for chocolate chip cookies. Baker in question said the reason his cookies were so good was because he dissolved his baking soda in hot water beforehand. Maybe that's true, or maybe it was the butter and sugar and chocolate chips. Either way, I don't care. I had two before dinner. Growing up, that would have scored me a night without television.

Next, I allowed my friend to cook for me while I drank Gigondas with his wife. He made French onion soup topped with stale bread and Gruyere in ramekins browned under the broiler, the ultimate comfort food. I guess he had wasted an afternoon making a homemade veal stock, which he swore to me he would never do again; too much time for too little reward. The soup was rich and meaty but I'm not sure I wouldn't have been just as satisfied with a store-bought beef stock base. I'm just saying.

After the soup, ricotta meatballs braised in milk. I'm not sure what meat he used. Probably veal. He also chopped up some cornichon and threw it in there for some texture. Meatballs were silky, not at all overdone. Very delicious.

And finally, a heaping portion of Alsacian choucroute: sausage, sauerkraut, ham hock. It came served with a whole grain mustard and a spicy yellow mustard. Also very delicious, but nothing to scoff at after the soup and meatballs. I'm sure I left Brooklyn a little heavier. You can't win them all.

We skipped dessert. The cookies had done the trick. Maybe next week he'll make me something else. It's nice having friends who cook.