a dinner at St. Anselm

We transferred to the L train this past weekend- to meet friends for dinner in (sigh) Williamsburg. I'll admit that I wrinkled my judge-y nose as I took in three early twenty-somethings passing a Coors Light exchanging what they hoped to be ironic comments, stumbling in unison with the jerks of the train.

We hopped off at Bedford and set-up our iPhone GPS command center, leading us to Custom American Wine Bar until our agreed upon 6:30pm meeting time. Notable, as the list is exclusive to The States and has excellent Washington and Oregon wineries featured (+ free pop corn!).

Our company put our name on the list at St. Anselm, which does not take reservations, but does conveniently offer an iPhone app to track your progress in obtaining a table. Once you're on on the waiting list, most patrons set-up camp in the adjacent bar, which is unsurprisingly (genius!) owned by the same gentleman behind St. Anselm. The smell is quite peculiar, a sort of licorice and musk. It was very nearly offensive, but after we marinated in it for 2.5 hours and found ourselves being summoned to our table at the restaurant- ducks began to form in a row. As you step into St. Anselm, the thick warm scent of steak takes you over. It's literally the perfect pairing. I can't explain it any other way and I was certain the licorice-musk bar is absolutely integral to the process.

The interior is rough and a bit rustic- Americana- with weathered wood, vintage saws and  a promise of hormone and antibiotic-free meat.  We were greeted by a husky-country looking man,  of whom confirmed he was in fact from the Midwest: Kansas.

We immediately opened with bottles of red, wine braised octopus and  grilled artichoke hearts with aioli. Both tender, flavorful and at simply prepared.

For our second course, we shared a few plates of greens- ice berg and blue salad with hot bacon dressing and the grilled Halmoumi cheese with pea greens and long beans. Rich, sultry and satisfying- these could be a meal in themselves.

Our mains came in a hurry: butcher steak with garlic butter, lamb saddle with mint gremolata, salmon steak with garlic butter and the bourbon brined center cut pork chop. To accompany, we selected a few orders of the pan fried mashed potatoes with truffled oil, spinach gratin and scallions. We approached the spread family-style to fully experience the feast. The various proteins tasted as though the animals are been massaged, loved and well fed. There is really is no substitute for this quality.

Against all odds, we agreed to dessert. We selected pie, chocolate mousse with rich homemade whipped cream and port. It's now Wednesday and I am still harping on St. Anselm...thinking...hoping... can we can go back this Saturday? The 2.5 hour wait is well worth it. Go with good company that you can chuckle through the hours with.

Taco Chulo

We found ourselves deep in the trenches of Long Island Expressway traffic last night- a situation, which ultimately lead us to get off the highway, and snaking through Queens. As it wasn't feasible for us to get to East Setauket in time to sample our wedding menu, we drove: until we realized we were in Williamsburg.

I'm not sure what it is about traffic, but it gave me a hankering for margaritas and tacos. We parked, investigated the meter and threw a few quarters in. Around the corner, on Grand Street, I noticed Taco Chulo.

The dimly lit interior hosts a roomy seating area with blond wood, turquoise walls and red highlights. We took a few seats at the bar, noticing that the venue was nearly empty, aside from a mother/toddler combo and three servers wearing tee shirts with tacos stuffed with the Virgin Mary, noshing on burritos at the other end of the bar.

We decided to sip a few of house recipe margaritas: grapefruit/mint (think love child between mojito and margarita), rose and eventually lime. Although the taco menu is extensive and tempting, we opted for the queso fondito with smoked bacon and onion. The bar keep warned that it would take twenty minutes. We didn't mind. A little tequila-infused decompression was needed after our traffic debacle.

The queso came in a moderately obscene portion of gooey melted cheese. I doused my plate with the three house-made hot sauces (which are delicious and spicy enough to burn your skin). We scooped up the melted cheese with warm white corn tortillas and house made chips.

I'd love to explore Taco Chulo again. According to Free Williamsburg, the owners are a team from Texas and California, which comes as no surprise, this is real-deal Southwestern fare.


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Image: CitySearch

alphabet rings

Subtle sterling silver rings from Catbird in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. (I love them).

Brooklyn Baby in the AC Cage

What a chubby baby! This photo was taken in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in 1937. View more on the LIFE feature here.

pretty necklaces from catbird

Pretty little things from catbird in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

Vic Ruggiero at Death By Audio

It's rare that I find a performer that I enjoy more live than altered in a recording. Vic Ruggiero impressed me. Beyond his playful personality and humble lyrics, he does something with a guitar, a harmonica and the tap of his foot to the drum- that I was told would make me want to take my bra off and throw on stage (okay, maybe it did a little...)

Death By Audio is a sort of thrown together- (with purpose, I'm sure- we are talking about Williamsburg hipsters here)- space on an empty industrial block. Hand painted creatures, dead couches, ripped chairs and a single smiling boy behind a card table line-up of coke, Brooklyn Lager, PBR, a plastic jug of no-name Canadian whiskey and over sized bottle of red wine. He looked a bit like the kid from Juno, a detail he liked being told, "because I'm like 10 years older than that kid."

The room filled with chubby girls with haircuts from the early 90's and functional satchels with funky accents- patches, buttons or fabric hand sewn on. Most in mildly trendy, but designed for comfort shoes. With their eyes-closed with PBR buzzes, they sang along with Vic. Some took videos with their blackberries as he belted somewhere between blues and ska.

Let's do this again.

Image: from my iPhone

1 or 8

We slipped into Williamsburg's 1 or 8 for a cocktail break between performers at Death By Audio across the street. The clean, hyper modern layout is a harsh contrast to the neighborhood's pot hole spiked roads and taunting graffiti. New York magazine describes the spot as "Williamsburg's very first ultra-high-end sushi restaurant." While I didn't have a glance over the menu, I did notice that our friendly (and generous) bartender was a Hungarian immigrant living in Queens and that there is a glass box specially crafted to keep their selection of cheeses as the proper temperature.

We sipped on Hannya- hot pepper infused plum sake and a cucumber margarita which also came hot pepper infused. The aroma of both drinks snared your throat in a oddly pleasant way. As we sipped our last few drops, the bar keep poured a bit more sake in with a smile and prepared citrus juiced sake shots for us.

Image: from my iPhone.

a dinner at Blackbird Parlour

We took a seat at the window of the Blackbird Parlour. The Williamsburg restaurant/bar offers premium Bedford Avenue people watching. Furnished with aged wood pieces, the oak mechanic's desk and lazily placed books offer a found on road trip feel to the venue. We perused the menu which boasts an odd mix of quinoa, various chutneys and comfort foods.

A bus boy placed a wine bottle full of water and two iced filled glasses before our waiter leaned back in a stool behind us to inquire about our order. He wore is long curly hair in a messy bun and punctuated our interaction with a smirk. We sipped Blackbird's version of sangria (red wine, sparkling wine and citrus juices- a Brooklyn priced $4) and German beer while we waited for our food.

We decided to share a few plates- the avocado salad with chevre and tomatoes with mint and citrus vinaigrette- and the Mac & Cheese w/ Salad. The tomatoes and avocado should have been ripened longer, especially for this time of year- but the dish was refreshing for a humid evening in June. The Mac- came piping hot and buttery. It certainly rivaled my mother's. Although the dish comes with a choice of potatoes or dressed mesculin, the greens were a better choice. I cannot imagine getting down with potatoes next to this rich mess of wonderful.

Images: from my iPhone.

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Where the Gingers are.

Corner brew.

peep-pire.

bellies.

Williamsburg Tagged, a photo series

Sunset Williamsburg, a photo series