Good Co.- 10 Hope St (between Roebling St & Havemeyer St) Brooklyn, NY
Extra Fancy- 302 Metropolitan Ave (between Driggs Ave & Roebling St), Brooklyn, NY
The Woods- 48 S 4th St (between Kent Ave & Wythe Ave) Brooklyn, NY
The magical land of Williamsburg. Alcoves cut through decrepit factories make way for hidden treasures seeping in PBR, Stumptown Coffee, and flannel-filtered sweat. Here, debauchery comes in the form of wearing Ray Bands and double-fisting chicken tacos while jiving to Reggae and Two-Tone Ska soundtracks that never give way.
I had a production meeting for a new play that’s being produced in late-September. It’s about breastfeeding your seventeen-year-old miserable shit of a daughter. It’s a comedy. The meeting was draining. Started at 9 and went to 12 midnight, at which point all of my friends that I planned to meet up with had already gone to bed after partying hard and crazy at the Dallas BBQ.
So, I met up with my guy and his roommate- a really great gal with a gorgeous undercut and a passionate interest for documentary filmmaking and the MTA’s discrimination against disabled people. Simply put: she’s really great company.
We met up at Good and Co. where a cold Double Jameson on the rocks – their house whiskey- joined me to their outdoor patio where I caught a bench with the dynamic duo. The patio is gorgeous- at least twice the size of the indoor space (which is already pretty big to begin with- it’s packed with basketball fans during the week and quasi-grinding dancers on the weekend who seem to have no concept on how to move a pelvis). Hanging strings of lightbulbs illuminate a bunch of bros and Williamsburg locals intermingling, sharing giant pizzas topped with spinach and (probably) buckwheat, sipping pale ale while jiving cooly to kind of indie-rock Pandora rarely ever manages to find. After a couple days in the upper 90s followed by a series of epic thunderstorms, the air was crisp and cool, with the scent of another storm on the way. Appreciative of the weather, we decided to finish our drinks, slam down another shot of Jameson, and head on out for a night in the magical land of West Williamsburg.
We walked down Metropolitan- passing by the Commodore and its gaggle of smokers outside pining for another tecate and shot of tequila if only they could finish their smoke first. That place has got great music.
We ended up at Extra Fancy after passing by it and seeing it sporting a really great crowd. History lesson: Extra Fancy has the sexiest name on the block- and because of this, has been under construction forever. For nearly three months, the restaurant and bar stood seemingly complete- but the door was still locked. It was the ultimate tease; blue balling every passerby itching for a taste, a realization, of what made Extra Fancy so goddamned Extra Fancy.
Well. Turns out. It’s fancy as fuck. Dark wood accompanies the vintage-style chrome and glassware that makes you feel as if you’re a part of a glossy Gossip Girl scene.
I think it should be stated, for the record, that I’ve been listening to Jack Peñate’s ‘Pull My Heart Away’ the entire time I’ve been writing this. That’s because, when we opened the Extra Fancy door and stepped into the Extra Fancy space, his chorus was trumpeting away, fornicating to my ears as we checked out the rustic-looking menu under the candlelight. A great selection of beers ranging in price from $4-$28. For the really local beers, including several brews from the Brooklyn Brewery I’ve always wanted to try, they include the address of the brewing company, as if they expect us to ride on up on our extra fancy bikes and thank them in person for their exquisite craftsmanship.
Ay, que, fancy.
I sipped on some Radius by the Brooklyn Brewery, located on N 11th and Wythe Ave- if you were interested. It was bitter and light and worth the try. My personal favorite had to be the $4 Narragansett Lager by City Brewery located Providence, RI. It was the perfect equilibrium between price and quality- a 16 oz. can that was perfectly chilled; a lighter lager that eased my pre-thunderstorm chills and sweats. I had another.
After feeling the itch to dance, we headed over to the Woods.
It’s something else. First off, it’s incredibly loud and packed- the moment you enter you’re hit by a giant electron cloud of sweat and steam and whiskey breath. There’s an great bar (if you can force your way to it), sporting some incredible beer and shot combos. For now, we just grabbed a couple cans of Rolling Rock ($3 a can- WHAAAT), and moved on in towards the back.
The whole feel of the place seems like a pseudo-horses’ stable mixed with the eccentricity of (I’m assuming) rustic, playful BDSM- the gothic chandeliers with glowing red glass, long lines to the pisser, and a concrete dance floor. We move on to the back patio that feels more like a Biergarten; parties recovering from that last shot of whiskey or dance. It’s packed. But it also smells like cilantro. And charcoaled chicken. And steamy cheese.
Alright. So. The Woods is kinda an all-in-all magic wonder; the back patio has got this taco truck called ‘My Little Mexico’ that is open from 5 PM to 4 AM (I know). The menu includes everything from tacos, burritos, quesadillas, and grilled cheese sandwiches stuffed with bacon.
We rock an order of chicken tacos- succulent chicken on top of heated tortilla- cool and crisp cilantro freshly chopped and tossed on top. Salsa Verde too. It’s simple and clean, and above all, tastes incredible. At $3 a taco, this is the ultimate in drunk culinary dining- you get to keep the beer you’re drinking while you order.
So we munch, we finish our rolling rock, another shot of whiskey, and decide to conclude the evening on a 16 oz. of PBR while dancing with the rest of Williamsburg in a perfect mess of steaming synergy. I wish I could tell you about the soundtrack and how epic it was and list off all the artists that were being played- but let’s be honest.
We left around three. Picked up some Honey Dijon chips. Trekked back home.
I chugged a glass of water and a couple of Tylenol- brushed my teeth and went to bed.
Woke up like a champ, and now, I’m sipping on my second cup of Ninth Street Espresso.