Brooklyn: Williamsburg
Posted by Joe DiStefano, October 8, 2009 at 3:00 PM
[Photographs: Joe DiStefano]
To say I love football is as far from the truth as saying I hate regional Chinese food. Nevertheless, I joined some 300 or so folks last Sunday to watch the pigskin being tossed around at an event billed as Fatty Sunday: A Zak Pelaccio Lunchtime Feast. The elevator ride up was redolent of smoke and evoked an immediate Pavlovian reaction.
When I greeted Pitmaster Robbie Richter, he excitedly told me, "Freeman McNeil was here earlier." "Freeman who?," I thought as he patiently briefed me on the former Jets running back. My eye glazed over: I was there to preview the food from Pelaccio and Richter's Fatty 'Cue, and could care less about the game. Truth be told, it was hard to tell who was a football fan and who was a Fatty fan, but I know which camp I was in. I couldn't wait to sample the fare from the soon to open Williamsburg spot that owes as much to Southeast Asia as it does to Southern barbecue.
Continue reading »
Posted by Kathy YL Chan, September 30, 2009 at 12:45 PM
[Photos: Kathy Chan]
Saltie. Out in Williamsburg. The restaurant seats eight, with six stool seats lining the left brick wall, and two facing onto Metropolitan Avenue. The atmosphere: sunny, sparse, and cheerful. It's a neighborhood go-to in the making. The whole menu is available from open to close, whether it be museli with yogurt and apples, milkshakes, a Israeli meatball sandwich, a macrobiotic sandwich featuring wheatberries and miso—or a slice of cake.
But first, you need something to drink. Iced mint tea? Hot coffee? Plum lassi? Or an agua fresca ($3)? I went with the latter, as the fruit of the day was cantaloupe. Blended on the spot, the agua fresca came frothy, over ice with sprigs of mint. Easily one of the best in town.
Sandwiches, salads, and sweets, after the jump.
Continue reading »
Posted by Robyn Lee, September 23, 2009 at 2:00 PM
[Photographs: Robyn Lee]
After stuffing ourselves with burgers and fried chicken, my friend and I ended our dinner at Walter Foods in Williamsburg with their peach cobbler ($6), a bowl of warm sliced peaches topped with a layer of crisp and tender crust nuggets, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a dusting of confectioners sugar. I ordered it upon the waiter's suggestion since I couldn't make up my mind, but this made me realize I ought to incorporate more cobblers into my life. Now the combination of soft, sweet peaches with buttery pastry and cool ice cream is something I crave.
Walter Foods
253 Grand Street, Brooklyn NY 11211 (b/n Roebling and Driggs; map)
718-387-8783
walterfoods.com
Posted by Carey Jones, September 11, 2009 at 12:00 PM
Midway in my journey home from work, I found myself eating fried chicken in Williamsburg, the straight way lost. To tell about that meal is hard—so tangled and rough—the very thought of it renews my fear.
—Dante, loosely paraphrased.
So it's around nine o'clock on a weeknight, and you're a twenty-something in South Williamsburg, already several whiskeys into your evening. Suddenly aware that your Jack Daniels is splashing on an empty stomach—hey, you didn't get around to eating anything in your four hours of wakefulness, unless a warm PBR counts—you start looking for somewhere nearby, for fried chicken and mac-and-cheese, with no wait and no frills. Nothing as culinarily ambitious as Brooklyn Star; nothing as crowded as Egg; nothing as pricey as Walter Foods. The food doesn't have to come in a hurry—you've got nothing else to do tonight. They can seat your whole party of seven. Oh, and the bottle of Jack, the one you've already opened, has to come along for the ride, too.
If that's your situation, then I can wholeheartedly recommend Dante's, a cavernous, Southern-ish restaurant on Hope Street, just south of Metropolitan Avenue.
If that's not your situation—well, venture into the fires of Dante's at your own risk. It's hardly the Inferno. But a journey through the menu brings its own epic sense of peril and adventure.
Continue reading »
Posted by Kathy YL Chan, September 8, 2009 at 12:00 PM
[Kathy Chan]
I arrived at The Blue Stove on a Saturday—only to be greeted by closed doors and a sign noting they were closed for vacation. Dejected, I walked along Graham Avenue in Williamsburg and turned into a clothing shop. I chatted with the owner. "It's a slow day," she said.
"I have to confess," I told her, "I came to Brooklyn for pies, and not clothing."
"Oh! The Blue Stove! Yes, they're closed till next week." And then she bubbled on about the pie crusts I would find there, and one addicting chocolate cake doused in bourbon. Mouth watering, I hurried home to the East Village, and tucked away a pint of ice cream. It was the only way to make my cravings disappear.
I returned to The Blue Stove on Thursday, and this time around, was greeted by the scent of baking pies, chocolate cakes, and cookies. Owned by Rachel McBride, the shop is quite spacious, as far as bakeries go—window seating to the right of the entrance, a long table to the left, and more tables in the back. Regulars were lounging about during the noon hour, most with newspapers or laptops at hand. Rachel's bakery is named after an actual blue stove, passed down from her grandmother. The stove occupies a proud place in the center of the bakery, a cheerful and warming welcome for the sweets to come.
Continue reading »
Posted by Joe DiStefano, October 8, 2009 at 3:00 PM
[Photographs: Joe DiStefano]
To say I love football is as far from the truth as saying I hate regional Chinese food. Nevertheless, I joined some 300 or so folks last Sunday to watch the pigskin being tossed around at an event billed as Fatty Sunday: A Zak Pelaccio Lunchtime Feast. The elevator ride up was redolent of smoke and evoked an immediate Pavlovian reaction.
When I greeted Pitmaster Robbie Richter, he excitedly told me, "Freeman McNeil was here earlier." "Freeman who?," I thought as he patiently briefed me on the former Jets running back. My eye glazed over: I was there to preview the food from Pelaccio and Richter's Fatty 'Cue, and could care less about the game. Truth be told, it was hard to tell who was a football fan and who was a Fatty fan, but I know which camp I was in. I couldn't wait to sample the fare from the soon to open Williamsburg spot that owes as much to Southeast Asia as it does to Southern barbecue.
Continue reading »
Posted by Kathy YL Chan, September 30, 2009 at 12:45 PM
[Photos: Kathy Chan]
Saltie. Out in Williamsburg. The restaurant seats eight, with six stool seats lining the left brick wall, and two facing onto Metropolitan Avenue. The atmosphere: sunny, sparse, and cheerful. It's a neighborhood go-to in the making. The whole menu is available from open to close, whether it be museli with yogurt and apples, milkshakes, a Israeli meatball sandwich, a macrobiotic sandwich featuring wheatberries and miso—or a slice of cake.
But first, you need something to drink. Iced mint tea? Hot coffee? Plum lassi? Or an agua fresca ($3)? I went with the latter, as the fruit of the day was cantaloupe. Blended on the spot, the agua fresca came frothy, over ice with sprigs of mint. Easily one of the best in town.
Sandwiches, salads, and sweets, after the jump.
Continue reading »
Posted by Robyn Lee, September 23, 2009 at 2:00 PM
[Photographs: Robyn Lee]
After stuffing ourselves with burgers and fried chicken, my friend and I ended our dinner at Walter Foods in Williamsburg with their peach cobbler ($6), a bowl of warm sliced peaches topped with a layer of crisp and tender crust nuggets, a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a dusting of confectioners sugar. I ordered it upon the waiter's suggestion since I couldn't make up my mind, but this made me realize I ought to incorporate more cobblers into my life. Now the combination of soft, sweet peaches with buttery pastry and cool ice cream is something I crave.
Walter Foods
253 Grand Street, Brooklyn NY 11211 (b/n Roebling and Driggs; map)
718-387-8783
walterfoods.com
Posted by Carey Jones, September 11, 2009 at 12:00 PM
Midway in my journey home from work, I found myself eating fried chicken in Williamsburg, the straight way lost. To tell about that meal is hard—so tangled and rough—the very thought of it renews my fear.
—Dante, loosely paraphrased.
So it's around nine o'clock on a weeknight, and you're a twenty-something in South Williamsburg, already several whiskeys into your evening. Suddenly aware that your Jack Daniels is splashing on an empty stomach—hey, you didn't get around to eating anything in your four hours of wakefulness, unless a warm PBR counts—you start looking for somewhere nearby, for fried chicken and mac-and-cheese, with no wait and no frills. Nothing as culinarily ambitious as Brooklyn Star; nothing as crowded as Egg; nothing as pricey as Walter Foods. The food doesn't have to come in a hurry—you've got nothing else to do tonight. They can seat your whole party of seven. Oh, and the bottle of Jack, the one you've already opened, has to come along for the ride, too.
If that's your situation, then I can wholeheartedly recommend Dante's, a cavernous, Southern-ish restaurant on Hope Street, just south of Metropolitan Avenue.
If that's not your situation—well, venture into the fires of Dante's at your own risk. It's hardly the Inferno. But a journey through the menu brings its own epic sense of peril and adventure.
Continue reading »
Posted by Kathy YL Chan, September 8, 2009 at 12:00 PM
[Kathy Chan]
I arrived at The Blue Stove on a Saturday—only to be greeted by closed doors and a sign noting they were closed for vacation. Dejected, I walked along Graham Avenue in Williamsburg and turned into a clothing shop. I chatted with the owner. "It's a slow day," she said.
"I have to confess," I told her, "I came to Brooklyn for pies, and not clothing."
"Oh! The Blue Stove! Yes, they're closed till next week." And then she bubbled on about the pie crusts I would find there, and one addicting chocolate cake doused in bourbon. Mouth watering, I hurried home to the East Village, and tucked away a pint of ice cream. It was the only way to make my cravings disappear.
I returned to The Blue Stove on Thursday, and this time around, was greeted by the scent of baking pies, chocolate cakes, and cookies. Owned by Rachel McBride, the shop is quite spacious, as far as bakeries go—window seating to the right of the entrance, a long table to the left, and more tables in the back. Regulars were lounging about during the noon hour, most with newspapers or laptops at hand. Rachel's bakery is named after an actual blue stove, passed down from her grandmother. The stove occupies a proud place in the center of the bakery, a cheerful and warming welcome for the sweets to come.
Continue reading »
Posted by Kathy YL Chan, August 26, 2009 at 1:15 PM
Editor's note: In "Lunch for One," Kathy YL Chan will seek out some of the best places for solo lunchers to grab a noontime bite.
Let's meet for coffee, let's meet for dinner, let's even meet for breakfast. But lunch? Lunch, I like to save for myself. There's something incredibly pleasant about stealing away a single hour in the afternoon for a lunch alone. It's a time to reorganize your thoughts, cool down from a hectic morning—and most importantly, eat deliciously.
At Bakeri in Williamsburg, there's certainly space to think and relax. Come for a wooden table facing a calm street, come for the soothing scent of fresh pastries. But as far as eating deliciously goes, I had much higher hopes.
Continue reading »
Posted by Carey Jones, August 25, 2009 at 11:00 PM
"Thoughtful dishes and obvious afterthoughts, eight-dollar meals and twelve-dollar bites—Rye is all over the map."
Editor's note: Ed Levine is off this week; Carey Jones, editor-in-chief of Serious Eats: New York, will be filling in.
Photographs by Robyn Lee
Rye
247 South 1st Street, Brooklyn NY 11211 (b/n Roebling and Havermeyer; map); 718-218-8047 ryerestaurant.com
Service: Welcoming and professional
Compare It To: Dressler, Watty and Meg
Must-Haves: Short rib sandwich, smoked sturgeon, grilled sardines, steamed lemon cake
Cost: $10 cocktails, small plates $6-$14, larger plates $12-$25
Grade: B/B+
Somewhere in this world is a dog-eared manual inscribed with the title: How To Open A Brooklyn Restaurant: 2008-2009 Edition.
I’d like to get my hands on a copy, though it’s probably buried under piles of Liquor Authority paperwork in someone's Fort Greene apartment. But there’s really no need to flip through. A few meals around town gives one good idea of what it might say.
Chapter One: The urban-Prohibition aesthetic. Start with a lofty Brooklyn space, exposed brick and/or rafters. Uncover the stamped-tin ceiling, or install one. Frosted glass, ironwork on the windows. Tile floors, bistro tables, and a long mahogany bar.
There will be a wine list, a concession to the dining room traditionalists, but it'll play second fiddle to the cocktail menu. Drinks should be spirit-forward, with housemade syrups and sodas, where used; at least two should have a “muddled” component. Bitters are a plus. So are custom ice cubes. Four to six beers on tap—at least one Belgian, one stout, and one craft beer produced within a 500-yard radius.
The menu. Eschew traditional classifications—really, why corral your plates in outdated brackets?—and let the dishes roam freely: small plates and large, sandwiches and sides, starter-sized meats and entrée-portioned salads. The diners can dictate their own experience.
And, of course, the food. Local, seasonal, and fatty. Short rib. Pork belly. The people want fat—all the better if it comes from a pig, all the better if it comes from a familiar farm.
It almost goes without saying that Rye, arriving in South Williamsburg several months ago, falls neatly into this mold. Which is not to suggest that it’s simply capitalizing on a trend. Owner and chef Cal Elliott has earned his culinary chops, most recently at Dressler and DuMont—establishments that put Williamsburg on the culinary map and, one could argue, helped sketch the outlines of the very patterns Rye abides by. At their best, the plates emerging from this kitchen are intelligently composed and memorably delicious; the sort one mulls over on the walk home, imagining how to recreate, plotting when to make a return visit.
But Rye is maddeningly inconsistent. One could drop $20 on a phenomenal sandwich and pint of craft beer and escape, full and happy, with change—or ring up three times that and walk away unimpressed.
Continue reading »
Posted by Chichi Wang, August 19, 2009 at 1:00 PM
"Whatever the fishermen catch and won’t eat, they’ll know to toss into my bucket."
This weekend, I took a hiatus from crabbing on the south shore and headed instead to the beaches of Port Jefferson. It was a clear and sunny day. Near the shore, a school of bluefish leapt out of the water in a feeding frenzy; for a moment, all we could see were their svelte bodies glimmering on the water. Silent and transfixed, the fishermen looked out over the scene. Bluefish, which are sometimes called the piranhas of the Atlantic, are mean, sharp-teethed creatures prized for their moist and fatty meat.
When the frenzy subsided and the bluefish returned to deeper waters, the fishermen resumed their posts by the ramparts. Lacking any fishing equipment of my own, I set down a few of my crab pots and waited. The docks are a great place to while away a summer’s day; on the piers, the entertainment is just as good as the catch.
Fishermen are some of the greatest company around. The majority of them are masterful storytellers, possessing a strong cadence and an easy, practiced rhythm. Their words are almost poetic and their tales, always tall. Some of them have had decades to hone their stories, each time adding a flourish here and there.
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Posted by Ed Levine, August 18, 2009 at 11:00 PM
"As a standalone restaurant, Brooklyn Bowl would be totally in the pocket."
Photographs by Robyn Lee
Brooklyn Bowl
61 Wythe Avenue, Brooklyn NY 11211 (b/n N. 11th and 12th; map); 718-963-3369
Service: Friendly, enthusiastic, and solicitous (they happily transport food from the restaurant to the lanes)
Compare It To: Bowlmor Lanes, Blue Ribbon Bakery, 100 Acres, Shorty's 32
Must-Haves:Pork rinds, burger, brisket sandwich
Cost: $10-20 per person for bowling snacks and beer; $35 for a three course meal
Grade: B/B+ for the food and for the bowling
Though bowling and eating seem in some ways to go hand in hand, no bowling alley I've ever been in has tried to seamlessly blend an ambitious menu and a state-of-the-art bowling experience quite like the newly opened Brooklyn Bowl. It's not a bowling alley with really good food—it's a bowling theme park for hipsters of all ages.
Why do I say this?
- The shiny bowling lanes are graced with two alternating video installations, shown on screens right above every alley.
- The kitchen has been turned over to the haute comfort food championship chef team of the Blue Ribbon boys, Bruce and Eric Bromberg.
- Every 21st-century bowling alley needs a soundtrack, but Brooklyn Bowl takes the music bowling thing to another level—adding a large stage with a high-quality sound system to accommodate live music of all stripes.
- And when there's no band, they blast an incredibly pleasing mix of music from the last four decades. So even if you bowl a gutter ball, you can snap your fingers. (If they're not too greasy, that is.)
If you find this all a little overwhelming and distracting, join the crowd. Look at me. This is supposed to be a restaurant review, and I haven't written one word about the food yet. Yikes! At Brooklyn Bowl, my bowling score suffered, but I ate very well—if rather messily. And my guess is that they're still cleaning sloppy joe out of the finger holes of the orange ball I was bowling with.
Not surprisingly, the stuff emerging from the kitchen is all comfort food, Bromberg Brothers-style. Though some of it is knife-and-fork food, a lot of the menu is literally finger-lickin' good—fine, if you're not bowling, but not so fine if you want to bowl your best. All the wet naps in the world can't stop the good eats from seeping into the bowling experience.
Continue reading »
Posted by Joe DiStefano, August 14, 2009 at 1:00 PM
When a friend turned me on to Williamsburg’s FalafaPizza about a month ago, I immediately thought of Queens-based rap duo Das Racist’s novelty hit “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell.” Falafel joints that serve pizza are not that unusual, but surely this must be the only one to have copped the iconic Godfather logo. As my buddy and I waited to order a falafel, a woman walked in and asked for a slice. “No pizza, falafapita. Pizza across the street,” the man behind the counter said in an Israeli accent. As it turns out, they were also out of falafel that evening—but I vowed to return to this unusual establishment.
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Posted by Robyn Lee, August 11, 2009 at 1:00 PM
Upon a fellow Serious Eater's recommendation, I went to izakaya joint Sui Ren to try their kamo ramen ($12), featuring duck broth, duck breast, soft boiled egg, and pickled bamboo shoot. Although I'm no ramen expert, I'd give it the thumbs up even if it were in a more ramen-rich area than Williamsburg. The noodles were slightly springy and chewy, the broth didn't feel too heavy, the egg had a rich, runny center, and the duck breast was tender—though I wish there had been more than one slice. The portion size was standard for ramen, meaning that it would be stretched out for two meals if you ate judiciously.
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Posted by Erin Zimmer, July 28, 2009 at 1:30 PM
The next installment of Finger on the Pulse's BBQ series is on Wednesday, July 29, with Sam Mason (of Tailor) on grilling duty. The $5 plate includes root beer pulled pork, cornbread, and other sides like "hillbilly bok choy," plus beer and a DJ set by the Harlem Shakes. Fun goes down between 7 and 11 p.m. Hope Lounge, 10 Hope Street, Brooklyn NY 11211 (map).
Posted by Erin Zimmer, July 24, 2009 at 2:30 PM
The biweekly booze brunch at Sweet Ups features $2 mini pitchers of lager and $5 Bloody Marys alongside cheap grilled corn and bacon-wrapped hot dogs. Offer good from noon to 5 p.m. 277 Graham Avenue, Williamsburg Brooklyn 11206 (b/n Grand and Powers Street; map) 718-384-3886 [via TONY]
Posted by Erin Zimmer, July 24, 2009 at 10:45 AM
Brooklyn Based shares good and bad news this morning. Starting with the bad: "Bonita on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg will serve its last taco on August 15." (Issues with the landlord.) But on a sunnier note: Caroline Fidanza, founding chef of Marlow and Sons and Diner, is opening a new restaurant of her own called Saltie's at 378 Metropolitan, joined by Egg cook Elizabeth Schula. The menu will include “pastries, sandwiches, ice cream, and as much good food as we can produce out of a small space."
Posted by Carey Jones, July 9, 2009 at 10:00 AM
Photographs by Robyn Lee
Brooklyn Star
33 Havemeyer Street, Brooklyn NY 11211; (map); 718-599-9899; thebrooklynstar.com
Service: Competent servers well-versed in the food and totally on the ball. If you’re lucky, Caroline will be your waitress—say hello to a fellow Serious Eater!
Setting: Inviting, if somewhat spartan, with attractive slate-topped tables, cozy window nooks, and wood-paneled walls.
Compare to: Egg (dinner), Char No. 4, General Greene
Must Haves: Dr. Pepper Ribs, BBQ catfish, creamed corn with smoked trout
Cost: $4 breads and sides, $7 to $18 for small plates, $13 to $19 for mains (plus a $58, 36oz. T-Bone)
Booze: No liquor license yet, but it's coming soon.
Grade: A-
Skinny jeans and Southern fare may not be the most likely of bedfellows, but lucky Williamsburg seems to be in the middle of a real Southern revival. First came Metropolitan Avenue barbecue joint Fette Sau, an early entrant in the urban brisket scene; then brunch favorite Egg launched a deep South dinner menu whose fried chicken and dirty rice won immediate attention.
And now, just a few blocks away, is the newly arrived Brooklyn Star. Opened in May by Joaquin Baca, David Chang’s chef-turned-partner at Momofuku, Brooklyn Star brings a modern sensibility to Southern classics like fried green tomatoes, shrimp and grits, and country-fried steak. It’s food that makes you want to sit back, loosen your belt, and throw nutritional caution to the wind. Bacon, butter, and batter form the trinity of choice. Nothing sparks shouting like a Southern joint in Yankee country, but I won’t venture to weigh in on whether the dishes that come from this kitchen are “authentic.” That’s not the point, any more than the point of Momofuku is to serve traditional Korean fare.
There are more than a few Momofuku comparisons to be made: both restaurants take a respectful, if unorthodox approach to a particular cuisine, with a whole lot of fatty pork and the occasional dash of sriracha thrown in. Brooklyn Star doesn’t flout culinary boundaries with quite the same abandon. But there’s an awful lot of good eatin’ to be had.
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Posted by Nick Solares, June 29, 2009 at 11:15 AM
Cucumbers from the Queens County Farm Museum
Before heading over to the Javits Center for the Fancy Food Show (report to come later this week), I made my way out to Williamsburg to attend the second annual UnFancy Food Show, a smaller counter-celebration to the huge zoo of a convention in Manhattan, which spotlights local New York City foods and flavors instead. Don't let the name fool you, there was plenty of fancy food offered, but the mood was casual and relaxed and the sun shone throughout the day.
Salvatore Bklyn
Rachel Mark Devine of Salvatore Bklyn was on hand serving up a wonderful imported prosciutto over her delicious homemade ricotta.
McClure's Pickles
Bob McClure of McClure's Pickles showing off a jar.
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Posted by Erin Zimmer, June 17, 2009 at 11:45 AM
In anticipation of Restaurant Week in July, Zenkichi will offer the same eight-course omakase special for $35 starting today. 77 North 6th Street, Williamsburg Brooklyn (map); 718-388-8985.
Posted by Nina Lalli, May 28, 2009 at 10:00 AM
"I'm still getting used to the taste—slightly funky, with the edge of pear past its prime."
On first sight, Mexico 2000, a somewhat dingy grocery store in Williamsburg, is not so unique—tomatillos and canned jalapenos for sale up front, and a little open kitchen sending out decent tacos to the two tables in the back. It's a set-up you'll find all over the city, and a beloved staple for Mexican guys finishing a day's work and starving hipster types alike.
But wait—there is something amid the cans of Bud in the fridge that I have never spotted before in any borough. It's pulque, the ancient Mexican drink made from fermented maguey nectar (maguey is a species of agave). Perhaps you've had the good fortune to visit a pulqueria in Mexico. More likely, you saw Anthony Bourdain thusly bro-ing down on the season premiere of No Reservations, which ran on January 5. The next day, Daniel Maurer, Grub Street's editor, announced a contest to his readers: the first to find a pulqueria in New York would be treated to a glass of the stuff. Maybe he would have had better luck with a cash prize, since there remain zero comments on that post, but, more likely, there are no such saloons in town. The canned stuff at Mexico 2000 will have to do for now.
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Posted by Erin Zimmer, May 26, 2009 at 4:55 PM
For the next three to four weeks, Marlow & Sons and Diner will feature rotating soft shell crab appetizers (between $15 and 18). If it's not on one menu, it'll be at the next-door restaurant. Tonight it's a "Soft Shell Crab Almondine" at Marlow & Sons, inspired by the French 1970s dish usually with trout. Look out for a beer-battered soft shell crab with a caper spring garlic aioli and a sandwich with house-pickled onions and homemade pancetta on a brioche bun. "The jumbo crabs are coming in nice and soft this year," said chef Sean Rembold, who is excited to be playing with them every night.
Posted by Carey Jones, May 11, 2009 at 10:30 AM
Artisan scrapple may sound as improbable as artisan Spam—practically a contradiction in terms. This mushy American breakfast meat gets a pretty bad rap. The aptly (but unappealingly) named "scrapple" was invented by poor Pennsylvania Dutch farmers to use up all the spare bits of a pig—everything but the snout, and sometimes even that. Over the years, pig tongue, heart, skin, liver, brains, and even eyes have been stirred into the mix. (Along with flour and spice to tame down the flavor.) Modern producers are a bit more discriminating, but all sorts of organs are still fair game.
If it sounds like an acquired taste, it usually is. Though a regional favorite with an almost cult-like following, scrapple rarely appears outside of Pennsylvania and surrounding environs.
Yet out in Brooklyn, Williamsburg’s popular breakfast spot Egg tries its hand at scrapple. Even in offal-hungry New York, it seems an unlikely sell. But Egg builds a menu from American country classics like stone-ground South Carolina grits, homemade biscuits, and Kentucky country ham—elevated through chef-owner George Weld’s intelligent sourcing and obvious skill. If anyone can peddle scrapple to brunching urbanites, it’s he.
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