Anchorred Inn

57 Waterbury Street
(between Meserole St & Scholes St)
Brooklyn, NY 11206
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347.881.9095

Rating: ★ ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$
Subway: L Train to Montrose
Hours: Mon–Fri 1pm–4am; Sat, Sun noon–4am
Food and Drink Menu: Click Here (pdf)
Booze: Full bar
Website: www.theanchoredinn.com
NY Post says:

The new watering hole signals comfort after a long day or night for the world-weary rockers and other tattooed, skinny-jeanswearing locals who people the bar, which mashes up a maritime theme with a dive bar vibe.

Co-owners Adrienne Dowd and Carmen Mello dreamed up the nauticaldive fusion while working together as bartenders at The Half King, and opened the doors to their Brooklyn joint in February. A golden mermaid and a wood sign emblazoned with an ornate anchor and the bar’s old-timey logo (which Dowd, who’s an artist, created) mark the entrance. Inside, Mello’s collection of kitschy velvet paintings lines the walls, and true to the bar’s seafaring focus, one depicting a whale and a giant squid in a oceanic death match hangs over the bar, while a vintage deep-sea diving suit suspended from the ceiling hovers nearby. Cushioned red vinyl booths, salvaged from a pizza parlor Dowd frequented in her youth, offer spots to kick back and enjoy the suds and tipples on hand.

On a recent night, the beer selection was ample and reasonably priced enough to meet the needs of those with only a little cash to spare as well as those with money to burn, and happy hour brought a $1 discount for all drafts. Six taps rotate seasonally, and recent drafts included a standard low-priced lager, Yuengling ($4) and craft brews from local breweries, such as Sixpoint’s Brownstone ($6) and Bluepoint’s Toasted Lager ($6), as well as some further afield, including Left Hand Milk Stout ($6) from Colorado. The cans and bottles covered a wide range, from the ever-popular, low-budget drink of the effortlessly cool, Pabst Blue Ribbon in a can ($3), to the bottled microbrew Dreamweaver Wheat ($7) from Tregs Brewery in Pennsylvania.

The Anchored Inn’s cocktail list steered away from the oceangoing theme and into the realm of divey rock ‘n’ roll with a menu of drinks inspired by the local bands that tend to make up the majority of The Anchored Inn’s crowd. The Mutante Supremo ($9), named after the death metal band Mutant Supremacy, was a Tecate Michelada with a shot of chipotleinfused mezcal, and The Bad Dream ($7), created in honor of the grime metal band Bad Dream, mixed stout with Stoli Vanil. Simpler well cocktails go for $6, and several fine liquors, including Woodford Reserve bourbon ($9), Whistlepig Rye whiskey ($10) and Ron Zacapa rum ($9) were available. And cheap shot possibilities abounded. Any canned beer paired with any well shot costs $5, and the ubiquitous pickle back shot, with well whiskey and pickle juice, was also a mere $5.

But despite all its welcoming qualities, The Anchored Inn’s intense noise level sometimes made it hard to relax. On a recent night, the sound of the hardcore band playing at The Acheron next door was so loud that The Anchored Inn’s bartender had to blast the Black Sabbath blaring from the bar’s speakers just to make it audible above the din.

TimeOut says:

Adrienne Dowd and Carmen Mello, longtime bartenders at the Half King, break out on their own with a nautically themed drinkery in Williamsburg. The bar features a golden mermaid bust outside and a hanging Russian metal diving suit indoors, plus 20 black-velvet paintings, including a squid-versus-whale rendering. Tip back one of six draft beers (Left Hand Milk Stout, Sixpoint Sweet Action) or opt for a sipping liquor (Woodford Reserve bourbon, Flor de Cana rum). Overboard boozers can counteract the night’s tippling with salty bar snacks, including nachos, boiled peanuts and an intriguing combo of pickles with whipped pork fat.

Arancini Bros.

940 Flushing Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11206
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718.418.6347

Cuisine: Italian
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Price: $
Cards: Cash Only
Booze: None
Subway: L to Morgan Ave.
Menu: Click Here
Delivery: No
Time Out New York says:

Boozehounds at the Bushwick bar the Wreck Room can quell drunk hunger pangs at this adjacent arancini counter. The tiny, late-night storefront is run by former music techs David Campaniello and Will Levatino; the pair met on tour, bonded over fried risotto balls and gained local fame for their crispy, creamy orbs at the Hester Street Fair. Their first brick-and-mortar shop offers a rotating selection of six Sicilian-style rice balls in traditional (meat ragù), creative (mushroom and Taleggio) and sweet (Nutella) varieties.

Beauty Bar

921 Broadway
Brooklyn NY 11206
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347.529.0370

Rating: ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Hours: 6pm-4am Daily
Subway: J,M,Z to Myrtle Ave.
Food/Menu: Small Bar Snacks
Booze: Full Bar
Happy Hour: Martini and Manicure Happy Hour ($10) is offered Wed-Fri 7pm-11PM & Sat 9-12.
NY Mag says:

In order to build his seventh location including outposts in L.A., Vegas, and Austin, owner Paul Devitt acquired the fixtures of a Lancaster, Pennsylvania, beauty salon for $1,500 (including the crucial dryer chairs) and hauled them back here, along with some finds from a local flea market. Devitt describes the feel of this larger space (about 1,500 square feet compared to 900 square feet in the East Village) as “more seventies soul, Super Fly.” The prices, funny enough, are more in line with the 1996 ones at Beauty Bar’s original location (think $3 to $5 beers, $5 to $7 mixed drinks), and another difference is that “retro finger foods” such as pigs in a blanket are served. Also: Manicures start at 6 p.m.

Metromix says:

The divey and much-loved booze-and-parties-and-manicures chain extends its family tree to Brooklyn, planting a Beauty Bar branch deep in the heart of Bushwick. Larger than its East Village sister, the Brooklyn branch has a ’70s vibe, plenty of beauty-parlor fixtures, super-low drink prices and lovable, old-school bar bites—as well as, duh, dirt-cheap manicures and martinis at happy hour (6-11 p.m., same as always).

2 Jefferson Street
(between Myrtle and Bushwick Ave)
Brooklyn, New York 11206
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(347) 915-2717

Cuisine: No food
Hours: Mon-Thu 6 pm – 2 am
Fri 6 pm – 4 am
Sat 4:30 pm – 4 am
Sun 4:30 pm – 2 am
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: L train to Jefferson
Website: www.facebook.com/bizarrebushwick

Gothamist says:

Bizarre Bar is the newest drinking hole to open in an increasingly lush Bushwick, but it’s more than just a place to knock back a few divey beer-and-shot combos. Located just off the Myrtle-Broadway JMZ stop, the eclectic lounge has a lot going for it: killer cocktails, decor straight out of a Tim Burton film, and a decidedly offbeat atmosphere that makes it a fun (though pricier) new addition to the neighborhood.

Bizzare—which takes its name from Greenwich Village’s Cafe Bizarre from the beatnik days of yore— is the brainchild of French directors Jean-Stephane Sauvaire and Greg Baubeau, and the design reflects their eerie cinematic influences. The dark space is outfitted with red lights and chandeliers, and day-of-the-dead skeleton dolls are scattered atop the bar and in various corners. Films like The Last Tango in Paris are occasionally screened silently on a wall in the back, the wall’s exposed brick creepily distorting the actors’ faces. The bar itself is pretty sizable, and the owners plan to host DJs, parties and musical acts—they even kicked off Bizarre’s opening last week with a massive three-day party complete with costumes and erotica.
Bizarre boasts a pretty hefty drink menu. They’ve got draft beers like Left Hand Milk Stout and Leffe Blond for $5-$6, basic mixed drinks for $9, and absinthe cocktails like No. 4 (Saint Germain, pernod, absinthe, grapefruit juice, simple syrup or champagne) for $12. But the discerning yupster gentrifier will be drawn to the $13 specialty cocktails. Try the Abominable Snowman (aged rum, dry curucao, honey, ground cinnamon and a whole egg), part eggnog, part boozy beach smoothie, and the Johnny Mad Dog (espresso liquore, domaine de canton, tequila, sliced jalapenos and a lime twist) has a citrusy, super-spicy kick.

Those house cocktails are a little out of Bushwick’s typically toned-down price range, especially considering the bar is so far away from Roberta’s Morgantown. But they’re also delicious, and the bartenders don’t skimp on the alcohol, so for a drink or two they’re worth the extra bucks. And there’s no extra charge for the tiny plastic skeleton demon who stares you down while you drink it.

261 Moore St
(between White St & Bogart St)
Brooklyn, NY 11206
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646.703.2715

Cuisine: American (New)
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: All major
Price: Expensive ($180 per person)
Hours: Reservation only serving dinner Wednesday-Saturday.
Brunch: No
Booze: Beer & Wine Only
Subway: L train to Morgan
Delivery: No
Menu: changes nightly
Website: www.blancanyc.com
NY Times says:

Time exacts a price, too. It is too much to expect all 27 courses to be brilliant. But there shouldn’t be many dull spots, either. A lightly torched chip of pen shell clam with glasswort; a square of bigfin squid with Charentais melon; a separate course of good but not extraordinary bread may have had their quiet charms. But each made me wish Mr. Mirarchi edited his menu as ruthlessly as he edits his dishes. After three hours or more, eyelids all along the counter flew at half-staff.

Blanca is on the grounds of Roberta’s, the pizzeria that has sprouted a bakery, a radio station, a backyard tiki bar and gardens planted atop shipping containers. The whole shambolic compound feels like a Barker Ranch for young Brooklyners who are into fermentation. At times, like when nobody is answering the phone on the one day a month somebody is supposed to answer the phone, Blanca shares that spirit of enthusiastic amateurism.

More often, though, it is not Blanca’s ragged edges that impress so much as its polish and sophistication. Mr. Mirarchi and his staff are trying to find a new voice for fine dining, one that is both gracious and fun, and that could do for Brooklyn now what places like Chanterelle and Montrachet did for downtown Manhattan a few decades ago. And if you lean back into the leather at midnight on a Saturday, with the shifting sands of Stevie Nicks’s voice raking the air and an inky splash of Amarone left in your glass, it looks as if they just might do it.

NY Mag says:

It’s a general rule, in this new age of boutique tasting bars and overrun hipster noodle joints, that the smaller, more willfully obscure the restaurant, the more people will be clamoring to get in. Take Blanca, the distant (yes, it’s in Bushwick), fashionably tiny (twelve seats) tasting room that opened earlier this year on the grounds of Roberta’s in Brooklyn. When I first called for a table, a canned voice informed me that the voice-mailbox was full. When I got the same message the next week (and the week after that), I explored a few furtive, sub-rosa options (“I’ve failed you, Platty,” said one supposed “friend of the chef”). When those dried up, I handed the task over to my daughter, who discovered (on the website that Dad had ceased checking long ago) that Blanca would take reservations by phone on the first day of each month for dates 7 to 30 days hence. “Okay, Dad, you’re all set,” she said after a few minutes of speed dialing, “but don’t be late, or next month we’ll have to do this all over again.”

Blanca, for those of you who may not have heard, is the brainchild of the formerly anonymous Bushwick chef Carlo Mirarchi, who, along with two partners, has turned Roberta’s from a ramshackle neighborhood pizza hall on the fringes of Bushwick into a poster child for the great Brooklyn culinary miracle. The night I dropped in, Bill Clinton himself was renting out the main restaurant for a private party, so the barbed-wire-enclosed compound was crawling with serious-looking security operatives in dark suits. Those of us who were lucky enough to get a seat at Blanca (which sold out for the month within hours) were met by a gentleman wearing glittering silver pants who led us into the restaurant past a folding metal door decorated with a graffiti painting of a giant purple cat. Once inside, we were poured flutes of Champagne by the genial sommelier, who had acid-blonde hair and fingernails the color of pea soup. “The president’s in town. There’s a rumor he might be coming to dinner too,” she said.

Roberta’s has all sorts of local charms (the calzone, the roof garden), but the restaurant owes its outsize national reputation to Mirarchi, who began serving his improvised, twice-weekly tasting menu a couple of years ago to local Bushwick gourmets. These elaborate dinners used to take place at weathered picnic tables, but at Blanca, the $180, twentysomething-course meal is served at a polished counter lined with the kind of padded chairs with which your father may have outfitted his retro suburban wet bar. A large taxidermied tuna head has been affixed to one of the walls, and near the entrance is an antique turntable, where guests can spin vinyl LPs. The room — in a converted garage — is commodious, even huge, by the standards of other cramped tasting ateliers in town, and as Mirarchi saunters around his state-of-the-art kitchen, dressed in khaki shorts and a backward baseball cap, he looks less like an imperious auteur chef than like the host of an impromptu backyard barbecue.

There’s nothing impromptu about dinner at Blanca, however, which began, on one recent occasion, with a salvo of studied Japanese-style omakase dishes delivered by waiters who sounded like they were reciting hastily learned lines from a particularly grave play. These included thimble-size tastes of osetra caviar topped with frozen beet granita, faintly gummy pearly shrimp touched with celery juice, and a collection of decent-enough crudi tastefully arranged on lime-­colored porcelain plates from Japan. The most memorable of these early dishes tended to involve textural combinations — creamy sweetbreads with a lightly frizzled crust, a deliciously smooth polenta mingled with even smoother uni. I didn’t hear any real murmurs of approval from the assembled food geeks at the bar, however, until the arrival, about an hour into the meal, of Mirarchi’s version of beef carpaccio, which is sweetened with duck yolk and has the soft, melting consistency of a fine French crêpe.

Mirarchi has long had an underground reputation as one of the city’s preeminent pasta wizards, but as dinner unfolds at Blanca, it becomes clear that his real genius is for cooking fish and meat. The house garganelli, and toasted-flour “twistiti,” blandly flavored with mushrooms, aren’t especially memorable. But I can tell you in intricate detail about the little stack of snow-crab legs from Alaska, which the chef grills to the perfect point of sweetness, then spoons with a subtle mix of crab guts, uni, and sake lees. This was followed by delicious, crispy-topped ribbons of lamb, which Mirarchi ages for several weeks and enhances with wobbly spoonfuls of gêlée made with mint from the garden outside. The delicately funky, spoon-tender Wagyu beef at this Brooklyn restaurant is aged for up to 85 days, and the duck is roasted until it’s the color of honey, then cut into fatty lozengelike slices, which leave a pleasing slick of richness as they slide down the back of one’s throat.

Mirarchi’s cooking is more about purity of technique than El Bulli-style pyrotechnics, and inevitably some of the gastronauts who’d made the arduous journey out to Bushwick were disappointed, given all the hype. “Delicious but not stunning” was the assessment of one, as we picked at a series of soothingly refined desserts, which the pastry chef, Katy Peetz, concocts from homespun delicacies like apple ice, sunflower-seed brittle, and sunchoke purée. But this is Roberta’s, after all, and what Blanca lacks in culinary fireworks it makes up for with its own particular sense of occasion and place. Dinner took four hours, but it seemed half that long. Toward the end of the meal, someone put Sinatra on the stereo, and the waiters poured a sweet, sparkling wine from Bugey. It wasn’t a stunning wine, but on this evening in the wilds of Bushwick, as the improbably talented cook circulated among his guests in his baseball cap, and the moon rose over the garden outside, it tasted just fine. It tasted delicious, in fact.

Note
The multicourse sake, beer, and wine pairing costs $85, but if you tell the friendly drinks staff that you’re driving home, they’ll pour sips for $45.

Recommended Dishes
Uni with polenta, Wagyu carpaccio with duck egg, snow crab, lamb with mint gêlée, roast duck, apple ice with sunchokes and sunflower-seed brittle.

image c/o BrooklynVegan
ADDRESS: 1089 Broadway, Williamsburg Brooklyn
CALENDAR: Click Here
MAP: Click Here
SUBWAY: JMZ to Myrtle
WE SAY: New bars and venues open constantly in this neighborhood–it almost feels like the community board consists of a solitary robot with a giant rubber “Approved” stamp for liquor license applications. To which I say “Huzzah!” because papa needs his sweet, sweet booze. Anyway, today we take a look at a new music venue in Bushwick called Bodega (1089 Broadway), which is run by those hip souls over at Chiefmag. The space holds 300 people and used to be an actual bodega–one which used to sell crack I am told, which goes great with beef patties and Boar’s Head turkey sandwiches. Most bands they host are of the Todd P variety, including Japanther, The Death Set, Ninjasonik, etc. Shows are usually in the $5-$6 range, perfect for the club’s young, eight-people-to-a-loft crowd. [review by Keith Wagstaff]

Don Pedro's

90 Manhattan Ave.
Brooklyn, NY 11206
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347.689.3163

Cuisine: Classic Bar Fare
Our Rating: ★ ★
Cards: Cash Only
Price: $
Hours: Mon-Wed 4pm-2:30am; Fri-Sun 4pm-4am
Booze: Full Bar
Happy Hour: Daily 4pm-9pm, $1 off everything, $2 select drafts
Subway: L to Montrose Ave., J,M to Lorimer, G to Union Ave.
Delivery: No
NY Mag says:

Shrunken jeans and bug-eyed sunglasses have made their inevitable migration to the hinterland of East Williamsburg, but this local Ecuadorian standout has yet to change its menu to accommodate persnickety hipster taste buds. On weekdays you’ll find mostly locals bellying up to the table for one of the neighborhood’s best deals–$6 multicourse lunches that consist of spicy seafood soups, goat-meat stew, or whatever traditional fare the chefs whip up that day. Platos typicos such as stuffed greens plantains, hen stew, and fried pork beef with rice are heavy enough to require an afternoon nap, but Don Pedro’s lightens things up significantly with their outstanding seviches: Unlike the ultrarare, citrus-cured varieties presented a martini glass across the river, these seafood “cocktails” are served in bowls stuffed-to-overflowing with meaty shrimp and tender fish chunks marinated with red peppers, onion, cilantro, vinegar, and olive oil. Pre-meal, dawdling diners can check out prerecorded concerts with famous Latin musicians on the projection screen behind the bar, but those with a hearty appetite would do well to get eatin’: On weeknights the kitchen closes at 7 p.m. On some nights, Don Pedro’s dining room turns into a DIY venue for an eclectic bevy of Todd P-booked shows; check the restaurant’s Website for details.

Duckduck

161 Montrose Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11206
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No Phone

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: Cash Only
Hours: Mon-Fri 5pm-4am; Sat 5pm-4am; Sun 5pm-2am
Subway: L to Montrose Ave., J,M to Lorimer St.
Food/Menu: No food available
Booze: Full bar
Happy Hour: Mon-Fri 5 pm- 8 pm: $1 off bar; 2-for-1 Rolling Rock; 2-for-1 well drinks
Metromix says:

Though it resembles a garage sale, don’t look for any price tags on the mismatched, second-hand chairs and couches at this off-the-beaten-path East Williamsburg destination, where locals are drawn in by cheap shot-and-beer combos (and which was a former garage, incedentially). The namesake waterfowl—in rubber ducky, wooden mallard, stuffed and hand-drawn varieties—litter shelves behind the small bar, while a stairwell that ends halfway from the ceiling to the floor and other works from local artists add to the colorful vibe. DJs and occasional live bands lay down the soundtrack to a cast of regulars in attendance.

Metromix says:

Safely east of the Williamsburg bar scene circus, this local dive features $2 beers and a lack of attitude.

Duff's

168 Marcy Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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718.599.2092

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★
Cards: Cash Only
Hours: Daily 6pm-4am
Subway: J,M,Z to Marcy Ave.
Food/Menu: No food available (except for free hot dogs from time to time)
Booze: Full bar
Happy Hour: Daily 6pm-9pm: $1 Pabst Blue Ribbon
NY Mag says:

When the Misfits sang about a “hybrid moment,” they might have been referring to the perfect combination of Bellevue Bar’s seedy Hell’s Kitchen ambiance and Williamsburg’s gritty waterfront that has resulted in the birth of Duff’s. Bellevue Bar was a dirty, red-lit den with pin-up murals and dusty horror artifacts sharing shelf space with the bottles. Owner Jimmy Duff has moved his collection of baby skulls and taxidermy, along with his staff of inebriation specialists, to a former check cashing store on the other side of the river. He’s also added a nice big patio with built-in grill, and kept the metal-heavy jukebox and cheap drink specials that made Bellevue a dive cum laude. Patron hygiene ranges from “fashionably unkempt” to “possibly homeless”–yet another sign that Jimmy Duff hasn’t left Port Authority too far behind–but the bar and its bathroom are surprisingly clean. And though Bellevue regular Dancing Dominick won’t be frequenting the new space (he passed away after a full life of shimmying for drinks), he won’t be forgotten: A cut-out photo of his manic grin adorns CDs in the jukebox. Look out for free hot dogs in warmer weather when Duff’s occasionally fires up their outdoor grill.

CitySearch Says

Remember that kid you used to know in high school–the one who liked hard rock–who plastered his bedroom with whatever he picked up off the street? Well, he’s opened a bar in Williamsburg and covered every inch of the space (including the ceiling) with street signs, random posters, an Elvis bust, disembodied doll heads, red lights, a Gorilla suit and pin-up shots. Longtime fans of Bellevue Bar in Hell’s Kitchen may recognize the memorabilia; distinctive owner Jimmy Duff packed his stuff out of that space and into this one. In warm weather, the patio promises to be a raucous ode to cheap beer, crop tops and egregious facial hair. But you can find that inside, too. A laundry list of beer from Coors in a can to Guinness in a glass is served ice-cold, but it seems very wrong not to order a shot of whiskey on the side.

C/O Bushwick BK

50 Starr Street
Brooklyn, NY 11221
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Cuisine: Spanish/Tapas
Our Rating: ★ ★ ★
Cards: All Major
Price: $$
Hours: Mon-Sun Noon-11pm
Booze: Full Bar
Subway: L to Jefferson St.
Delivery: No
Bushwick BK says:

“Authentic Cuisine from Spain Comes to Brooklyn,” proclaims El Mio Cid’s menu, which features dozens of hot and cold tapas, salads, meats, and shellfish.  Inside, the sponge-painted walls, mural of the Spanish countryside, and posters of namesake El Cid were reminiscent of an Olive Garden, though classic Spanish restaurants often do sport some element of kitsch. A hulking glass dispenser of sangria bobs with apple chunks. The big-screen television above the bar playing soccer matches on a Latin American sports channel is unfortunate, but the wines lined up in front of a back-lit frosted-glass wall is a nice touch. Decor aside, the menu is a range of Spanish standards prepared with differing levels of success.

Pulpo al Mio Cid brings a bubbling cazuela, thin slices of octopus in a garlicky tomato broth, laced with wine and slivers of onion. The flavor is wonderful, punchy, the octopus a chewy tender. Gambas a la plancha, huge, meaty, flavorful heads-on prawns are a little sweet, smoky, spicy, and overall delicious. More solidly prepared tapas are the gambas al ajillo, shrimp in a robust garlic sauce, and sliced chorizo, just warmed through in a smoked red pepper broth. With lots of bread to soak up the remnants and juices, you might eek out a flashback of that one summer you spent in Galicia.

Escalibada was less successful. A healthy portion of roasted eggplant, peppers, onions, zucchini, and codfish was a wet mess that could have been saved with lots of salt and acid. Juicy almejas rellenas, stuffed baked clams, were blanketed in canned breadcrumbs; the bacalao a la viscaina, salt cod in a strangely fluorescent red pepper sauce, was middling.

The Paella valenciana, a meaty cocktail party of chicken, veal, shrimp, sausage, monkfish, mussels, and clams in saffron rice with peas and onions, is emblematic of the El Mio Cid experience — somewhat tasty, with plump shrimp but stringy lobster meat.

So pick around. The wine is cheap, and the menu is large — among some mediocre offerings are plenty of gems.