Briskettown (c/o Eater)

359 Bedford Ave
Williamsburg, Brooklyn 11211
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718.701.8909

Cuisine: Brisket
Our Rating: ★★★★
Cards: All Major
Price: Moderate
Hours: Tuesday through Sunday, Closed Monday, 6 to 6:30pm – Pre-Orders Only, 6:30PM to Sold Out – Open to Public
Booze: BYOB
Reservations: Yes
Subway: L: Bedford Ave, J to Marcy
Menu: delaneybbq.com
Website: delaneybbq.com
Delivery: No
Eater says:

Pitmaster Daniel Delaney learned how to smoke meat from barbecue big shots Aaron Franklin and Wayne Mueller. Delaney’s acclaimed brisket retails for $25 a pound, and the menu also includes traditional barbecue sides. In its first week of business, BrisketTown sold out of meat, several times, so show up early.

c/o Brooklyn Bowl

61 Wythe Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718.963.3369
(Bowling Alley with food by Blue Ribbon)

Cuisine: American/Southern
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$$
Hours: Monday – Thursday 6pm-2am; Friday 6pm-4am; Saturday 12pm-4am; Sunday 12pm-2am
Family Days are Saturday and Sunday! Noon-6pm is ALL AGES!
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: L to Bedford
Menu: Click Here
Delivery: No
We say:

A stunning sprawling space, albeit pricey.

The New Yorker says:

We suggest that you eat with your non-bowling hand,” a note on the menu at Brooklyn Bowl states, in a nod, presumably, to both aim and hygiene, if not to the traditional carelessness of ten-frame dining. This converted warehouse at the northern edge of Williamsburg does triple duty as a bowling alley, a music hall, and a grub house. Its kingpin, Peter Shapiro, the former owner of the bygone jam-bandy club Wetlands, has dreamed up an emporium that combines hedonistic excess (deep-end leather couches, spiked milkshakes, brisket, live music) with eco-consciousness (reclaimed-cork floors, no bottled beer, live music). For the eats, he brought in the Bromberg brothers, the creators of Blue Ribbon, to draw up a rebuke to every limpid water dog and fossilized onion ring you’ve ever downed, then regretted, at Wherever Lanes. They tinkered with comfort-food classics, secure in the knowledge that no bowler will ever crave endive. It’s a menu that begs over-ordering, as well as this remark from your waiter, regarding the procedure for delivering the food: “You guys want it as it fits?” “Fits where?” is one reply; the table is bigger than the stomach.

Still, all you have to do, while stuffed, is take a few steps forward and drop a twelve-pound ball on the floor, so there’s no sin in downing the carefully considered greaseballs the Blue Ribbon boys sling your way. Their fried chicken, dipped in matzoh batter, seasoned with Cajun spices, and accompanied by white bread and honey, has Earl Anthony game. The calamari, commingled with fried jalapeño, is the Dick Weber of fried squid. The San Gennaro, loaded with finely ground Italian sausage, is the Johnny Petraglia of French-bread pizzas: crisp outside, fluffy inside, it has all of the virtue, and none of the vice, of Stouffer’s. There are a few gutter balls; some might find the mac and cheese too creamy and the “Really” Sloppy Joe really actually too sweet. But the score sheet shows more X’s than —’s.

On a recent evening, the lanes were busy but not loud; the pins hang on strings, which helps muffle the din. Giant video screens showed montages from raunchy old B-movies like “The Student Nurses” and “Caged Heat.” Around eleven, the Roots took the stage, the dance floor filled up, and a waiter came by with Nutella-bourbon shakes, a convergence that felt like nailing a spare on a four-ten split. (Open weekdays for dinner and weekends for lunch and dinner. Entrées $9-$19.)

91 South 6th Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718.599.3090

Cuisine: Barbecue/Asian Fusion
Our Rating: ★★★★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$$$
Hours: Tue-Sun 4pm-Midnight; Closed Monday
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: J,M,Z to Marcy Ave.
Menu: Click Here
Delivery: No
NY Mag says:

Zak Pelaccio teamed up with former Hill Country pitmaster Robbie Richter and chef de cuisine Andrew Pressler to open this barbecue restaurant that marries the chiles and curries of Southeast Asia (especially Malaysia and Thailand) to fatty, sustainable meats (the lamb and pork is from Marlow & Daughters; the pork belly comes from Tamworth pigs) smoked over year-aged upstate oak. The big, bold mains are paired with light, acidic sides as well as smoky cocktails from beverage director Andrew Schuman. The space was designed by Pelaccio’s wife, Jori Emde, who employed materials, such as brick, reclaimed from his upstate farm, and includes a bar on the sunken first floor, with most seats on the upper level.

Blackbook Mag says:

Billyburg BBQ bro to equally obese crustacean sis. Fatty Crab’s Zak P. sprinkles his magical Malaysian spices on ‘cue smoked by Hill Country OG pitmaster. Texas vs. Southeast Asia: smoked-fish palm syrup pork spare ribs, American Wagyu brisket bao buns, coriander bacon x steamed yellow curry custard. Fixin’s veer less slaw, more noodles in meat juices, crudite of “rapid transit” charred veggies. Weathered triple-decker also offers swine chandelier, smoked-fruit fancy drinks à la “Foreplay Cock Tail,” the perfectly junior high complement to wet naps.

Fette Sau

354 Metropolitan Ave.
(between 4th St & Roebling St)
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718.963.3404

Cuisine: Barbeque
Our Rating: ★★★★★ Exquisite
Cards: Mastercard and Visa
Price: most meets $16 per lb, sides $3-$7
Hours: Mon-Fri 5 pm – 11 pm; Sat-Sun 12 pm – 11 pm; Kitchen and front yard close at 11pm,
bar and bar snacks (pulled pork sandwiches,
sausage sandwiches and baked beans) till closing time.
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: L to Bedford Ave. or Lorimer St.
Menu: www.fettesaubbq.com
Website: www.fettesaubbq.com
Delivery: No
NY Mag Says:

ot since the original Long Island City Pearson’s, perhaps, has a location been as ideally suited for barbecue as Williamsburg’s Fette Sau (“fat pig” in German). Kim and Joe Carroll, owners of the inimitable beer bar Spuyten Duyvil, had been scouting locations for their second venture when they learned that Tony & Sons, the auto-body repair shop across the street, was renting out part of its fenced-in lot and cinderblock building. The couple preserved the shop’s industrial vibe, outfitting the driveway with picnic tables and the wood-beamed, cement-floored interior with phonograph-horn light fixtures and stools fashioned from John Deere tractor seats. The centerpiece, though, is the Southern Pride gas-and-wood-fired smoker capable of slow-cooking 500 pounds of meat at a time. An avid backyard barbecuer, Joe eschews regional styles, finding inspiration in local ingredients like Italian fennel sausage from a nearby butcher, and his own proprietary panela-and-espresso-based spice rub. Head chef Matt Lang, late of Pearl Oyster Bar, swaps surf for turf with a rotating menu of pork and beef ribs and shoulders, pigs’ tails, flank steak, leg of lamb, pork belly, and pastrami, all sold by weight and served on butcher paper, sauce on the side. The drink list is appropriately heavy on North American bourbon and whiskey, with a smattering of tequilas, mescals, rums, and vodkas, and of the ten tap beers, four are custom-brewed by New Jersey’s Heavyweight and Brooklyn’s own Greenpoint.

Time Out Says:

Doubts that Joe and Kim Carroll were serious when they named their new Williamsburg barbecue joint Fette Sau, German for “fat pig,” are put to rest at the food counter, where the lightest meat served is charred pork (even chicken has been banished). Any lingering apprehension vanishes at the bar, where beer drinkers can choose from ten brews on tap, offered in gallon-size glass jugs.
Such unbutton-the-pants gusto, fervent even by gluttonous barbecue standards, makes Fette Sau great fun. After waiting dutifully in line, patrons order their meats by the pound, glistening mounds heaped onto paper-lined baking trays (only about half the menu’s offerings are available at any given time). Want a drink? You’ll have to make a separate trip to the bar. For those who prefer their smoke in a glass, there’s an encyclopedic bourbon selection—no surprise to diners familiar with Carroll’s obsessive Belgian beer list at Spuyten Duyvil.
Offsetting the boozy pedantry is the physical space, a former auto body shop. Picnic tables now fill both the driveway and the cement-floor garage, and tractor seats serve as barstools. The hipsters in the crowd, sporting handlebar mustaches, their finest plaid button-downs and Cat diesel hats, looked like they’ve stopped for dinner enroute to a red-neck costume party. They dab their soiled fingers with low-grade paper towel—the Wetnaps haven’t arrived yet.
Carroll leaves the cooking to pit master Matt Lang, a reformed fishmonger from Pearl Oyster Bar, and his gas-and-wood Southern Pride smoker. Lang has no professional barbecue bona fides, but he does have his moments. Lean baby back ribs come tender and pink in the middle, the tasty meat carrying a hint of smoke and a light rub of espresso and brown sugar. Lang cakes a coriander black-pepper rub onto his thick-crusted pastrami, which gets a sweet, fatty coating from the drippings of its ovenmates.
Lang’s more ambitious options were comparatively bland, including flank steak and pork belly (save a pulled lamb, beef and pork are Fette Sau’s two exclusive muses). The steak came extra-lean, and the belly was all fat and no marbling. Barbecue is not inherently a complimentary process for either cut—both tend to shine when prepared with kid gloves.
Fette Sau’s serving system also puts the meat at a disadvantage. The cuts sit in chafing dishes, which I blame for the ashen state of the pulled pork. It got no help from the horrid sauces, which sit on tables in unmarked squirt bottles. One, made with chipotle and ancho chilis, tasted so astringent that I sampled numerous bottles to ensure mine wasn’t an auto-shop castoff. An alternative was a hopelessly cloying mix of brown sugar and ketchup. (The best option: vinegar.)
There’s little to recommend in terms of sides. Apart from the baked beans with burnt-brisket ends and cold broccoli spears, the rest (half-sour pickles and fresh sauerkraut from Guss’ Pickles on the Lower East Side) are pre-fab. Ditto on desserts. Carroll offers a sole option: a plate of chocolate truffles. Not the most natural (or appetizing) ending to a ’cue dinner.
Like its bourbon selection, Fette Sau should get better with age. Until then, there’s just one way to eat here: in-house. This food only works in context.

Metropolitan

559 Lorimer St
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718.599.4444

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: Cash Only
Hours: Daily 3pm-4am
Subway: L to Lorimer St.
Food/Menu: BBQ’s on weekends
Booze: Full bar
Happy Hour: Daily 3pm-8pm: two-for-one domestic beer and well drinks
We say:

This bar is primarily for gay men and women and their straight friends (and it truly is mixed). It has the unique distinction of being the first gay bar in Williamsburg (Fun is the other) creating a much needed space for the gay contingent of the neighborhood’s arty/hipster set. The vibe is laidback, friendly and fun with video games, a pool table and even video bowling. Also, and perhaps most importantly at this time of year, Metropolitan has an awesome backyard complete with a grapevine and two floors of drinking fun.

NY Mag says:

An oasis of space and playfulness in a scene that has little of either. The sprawling backyard, a vine-tangled patio spattered with picnic tables and hard-resin lawn chairs, is the draw at this Williamsburg gay bar, and it seems to bring out the mellow sun-worshipper in everyone. A free summer Sunday-afternoon barbecue (with veggie burgers and tofu dogs available, natch) that attracts a crowd as gregarious as it is ravenous doesn’t hurt, either. Boys and girls, who all seem to know each other, patter around in sandals and sunglasses or flirt at the long, serpentine bar, while a DJ (or jukebox) spins indie rock. Until things warm up enough for the backyard, two roaring fireplaces surrounded by après-ski-style sofas inside are just as cozy. It’s enough to make you want to get a civil union and retire to suburbia.

c/o Grub Street

355 Metropolitan Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718. 384.5054

Cuisine: American, BBQ, Steak
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$ — $10-$70 (for a rib eye for two)
Hours: Sun-Thu, 5pm-11pm; Fri-Sat 5pm-midnight
Booze: Beer and Wine Only
Subway: L to Lorimer St.
Menu: Click Here
Delivery: No
NYMag says:

As impressive as St. Anselm is on the food front, it’s even more so on the wine. If Spuyten Duyvil demonstrates Joe Carroll’s exceptional beer geekery and Fette Sau his fluency with American whiskeys, then St. Anselm proves that he’s also a major oenophile with ecstatically offbeat taste and the guts to veer away from big-ticket Bordeaux and Napa Cab convention. His list itself is worthy of multiple trips, if only to sample rare by-the-glass selections of “yellow” wines from the Jura (vinified like fino ­sherry), “orange” wine from Friuli-Venezia (tinted by exposure to white-grape skins), and draft picks from two of the region’s most experimental producers (Red Hook Winery and Channing Daughters). Visionary winemakers both present and past populate the list, from Abe Schoener to Dr. Konstantin Frank, but what really sets it apart is the array of half-bottles, nearly five dozen opportunities to match each course, be it fish or fowl or succulent red meat, to its perfect pairing. St. Anselm’s one weakness is its desserts, which seem more hastily assembled than ingeniously conceived (though there’s something very appealing about the Reese’s effect of spreading peanut-­hazelnut butter on chunks of dark chocolate). But you don’t go to a steakhouse for dessert, do you? Well, not yet, at least. Give Carroll and crew some tim

NY Times says:

The new iteration is charming, with a pulsing bass line of ambition beneath its simple steakhouse melody. Yvon de Tassigny, the restaurant’s chef, has matched great live-fire technique to excellent groceries, and reveals himself to be a master of off-cut lamb and beef. And his iceberg salad, served below warm bacon vinaigrette that melts a scattering of blue cheese across the top and softens the exterior of the crisp lettuce, is among the great things to eat on the north side of Williamsburg.

The Shop Brooklyn

290 Metropolitan Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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Cuisine: Coffee/BBQ
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: All major
Price: $
Booze: Beer and Wine
Subway: L to Lorimer Street
Delivery: No
NY Mag says:

Three separate yet equally important elements are at play here – bikes, beer, and barbeque. Like a reverse mullet, the Shop is business in the back – a working garage populated with rows of motorcycles – and party in the front, where a relaxed little bar and café services a crowd that skews more fixie than Harley. Friendly staff deliver generously poured cocktails, while the beer selection is meager but functional: Killian’s is the only draft on tap, but Blue Moon and cold cans of Bud reign supreme with the no-frills clientele anyway. Paper plates heavy with Elgin sausage, pulled pork, and smoked ribs are also crowd-pleasers, and the kitchen serves them up at an impressive clip. Venture up the skinny spiral staircase to reach a cozy parlor room ideal for group conversations, laptop lounging, or spying other people’s rides in the garage below.

Garage Rock
The Shop further utilizes its nifty space by regularly booking live shows. Bands work their magic on the same greasy floor the mechanics do, wedging amps and drum kits between the crowd and the bikes. It’s very likely the only place in town you can watch a rock show play out in front an army of motorcycles.

Traif via Thrillist

229 S 4th St
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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347.844.9578

Cuisine: American Nouveau, BBQ
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$
Hours: Tue-Sun 6pm-2am; Brunch Sat-Sun 11:3oam-3pm
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: J,M,Z to Marcy Ave.
Menu: Click Here
Delivery: No
Blackbook Mag says:

Opened its doors on Shabbat, and that’s just the beginning. Gives a finger to G-d by celebrating shellfish and the fruits of the pig. Creative, eclectic small plates like pork and duck rillettes with rhubarb-peach marmalade, fried artichoke hearts and sea urchin, king crab béarnaise. Cocktailing gets equally frisky, try a sweet and sour Red Pearl with chili-infused vodka and muddled kiwi. Curving bar topped with okMitch mural, tight wood tables, sweet patio out back. Sacrilicious.

Citysearch says:

Bacon. Lobster. Flat iron steak served with king crab béarnaise with potato latkes. Run by a Jewish chef, and named after the Yiddish term for unkosher foods, Traif and its edible blasphemy is an outrage for the local Hasidic community and an outrageously delicious addition to the Williamsburg restaurant scene. The space is basic with a smattering of tables and a counter/bar overlooking the open kitchen; the food, however, is anything but. The menu reads like the cravings of a stoner with very sophisticated tastes–”Dude, what if we took foie gras, added ham, an egg, yams, maple gastrique and drizzled it with hot sauce?!”–though it’s actually a verboten love letter to all things traif by a very clear-eyed and talented young chef, Jason Marcus.