Recently in Cobble Hill Category

The recent renovations to Lobo seem to have yielded a rather similar looking Lobo. I've never been terribly fond of the food, but start with a few of the margartias, and who can tell the difference? Cobble Hill's Lobo is at 218 Court Street at Warren. (There's also one in Park Slope.)

Another beautiful snowy day in Brooklyn.

I came to the Southern-leaning, bacon-smoking, whiskey-pouring Char No. 4 with high expectations. My six years in Atlanta gave me a hunger and appreciation for downhome cooking that I've only been able to fill in New York from my own Brooklyn kitchen (with the notable exceptions of the now defunct Pies and Thighs and Dinosaur Barbecue). The question, of course, can a fancy new kitchen really turn out the downhome flavors?

Before tackling that question, a few words about Char's sizeable front bar. It is backed by whiskeys galore and fronted by a neighborhood cotlilion with more relation to the West Village than sleepy Brooklyn. I feared this overflowing scene pointed to an overextended reservation system, but, no, the  people who stood three-deep when we arrived were there when we left. The neighborhood's thirst for a good whiskey bar, it turns out, takes much quenching.

And to the food. We started, as many around us did, with a dish that resembles Wisconsin more than any southern state: cheese curds. It's a form of cheese with which I'm not that familiar, but it doesn't take much getting used to, especially when deep fried. Simply put, these little gooey cheese nuggets are delicious. I didn't hear the squeak that is a sign of fresh curd, but perhaps that squeak is negated by the crunch of the fried coating. Either way, it's an auspicious start to the dinner ahead.

On to the piece de resistance: bacon. The scent of smoked bacon in the restaurant is so thick and mouth-watering that we joked at our table about having to washing our clothes and hair a la the days when smoking indoors was legal. We started our tour of smoked pig products with the appetizer of black-eyed peas and bacon. It arrived beautifully plated, two extra thick-cut strips of bacon atop a pile of peas. No southern mamma (mine included) would cook a vegetable without bacon, and it really does highlight the rich black-eyed pea flavor. But what I really cared about was the bacon, that's almost a cross between a thinly cut pork belly and a thickly cut slice of bacon, with a smokiness so pervasive you never forget the smoker, nor would you want to. 

As if the scent of bacon wafting through the restaurant isn't enough (it isn't), smoked pork products permeate most every dish, but the one I liked best was one of the more simple: the pulled pork sandwich. Pulled pork sandwiches are not normally served on real plates with cute little onions in dishes for garnish (high-on-the-hog, if you will), but the various trappings took nothing away from the pork's flavor and its Carolina-leaning sauce. Yum.

We finished things off with a dish of butter pecan ice cream that had been liberally doused in whiskey. I lapped up the last remaining whiskey-ice-cream-soup, unabashedly, with my spoon. Anybody tried the brunch?

There are two things you need to know about Char No. 4, Smith Street's newest restaurant (196 Smith Street between Warren and Baltic streets). The first is that the restaurant makes its own bacon--an authenticity that can't be doubted thanks to the decidedly bacon smell eminating from the wood-toned, modern interior. The second important bit of Char data is evidenced on the wall of bourbons that regally line the bar from counter to ceiling. Char is serious about bourbon. There's more than 150 of them, and they can be had for $4 a taste or $200 a glass. No bourbon stone is left unturned, and that means Wild Turkey is just as available as a 20-year reserve. So, bacon and bourbon, not a bad combo. What about the food?

I have yet to taste, but I am rather excited to try the gussied up southern food menu, especially brunch. The brunch menu is chockfull of comfort foods--bacon cheddar grits, shrimp and grits, a BLT made from fried pork bely, a chopped pork sandwich. Yum, a definite tasting and review to come.

Yep, the Trader Joe's has its signage up, window washers were out working on the windows and stock was piling up in side room. I say the opening is imminent.

I've kept silent thus far on the "Is 'The Real World' coming to Carroll Gardens or not issue?" simply because it's been so back-and-forth. Today (again), Curbed supposedly has the word, which is that the show will be located in Red Hook and not Carroll Gardens or downtown Brooklyn. Red Hook certainly makes more logistical sense for the show, and it's also certain to make many in this neighborhood very, very happy.

On a related note, what's with all the filming in the neighborhood? In the past week, there's been a film shooting in front of the movie theater, a commercial on Smith Street and then today a whole crew was set up in front of the old Little Red Deli by the Cobble Hill Park.

Seems like every time I walk down Smith Street something changes. Flirt is no more on Smith Street, which is sad because it was one of my favorite neighborhood boutiques. The location in Park Slope is still active, however, so now I'll just have to schlep myself over to 5th Avenue. In better news, Refinery (a long-time neighborhood stalwart for great purses) is looking quite spiffy in its new space just a few doors down.

Lunchtime in the neighborhood is generally a perfuntory affair for me: falafel at Zaytoons, a slice at Vinny's, the occasional banh mi at Nicky's when I'm up that way. But my craving for sushi had to be satisfied on Monday, and that took me and my dining companion to Cube 63 on Court Street in Cobble Hill. Due to my pregnancy, I hadn't consumed sushi for a long, long time, and the restaurant's lunch menu was a nice way to ease back into the world of raw fish. Of particular interest is the tea menu, their version of the bento box, which ranges (if memory serves) from $6.50 to $8.50. Above is my tea lunch, which in addition to all the lovely little delicacies you see here, came with a whole pot of green tea. Below is what my dining companion chose.

As seen on Henry Street. Note to self: If I had a car and that car had an alarm, I'd definitely refrain from parking said car on Henry. (Don't miss the "friendly" notes tucked under the car's windshields, just in case the owner was unsure of how a dog with that much backup got on top of his/her car.)