Flood's On Draft [08]
So easy a caveman can do it
Know When to Hold ‘Em, Know When to Fold ‘Em
A friend and I were floating dinner ideas the other day when I seemed to have struck a nerve with my suggestion of Bernie’s, a popular walk-in-only neighborhood restaurant on the edge of McCarren Park, a spot where I notably had a very good, very cold Budweiser. “Yeah I’m out on that place,” he said sharply. Bernie’s might not be revolutionary, but it’s pretty damn agreeable, so I had to ask why, figuring my friend had a negative first-hand experience to share. A bit too much of a scene, maybe too long of a wait? A little overpriced considering it’s just an “upscale Applebee’s?” Were the mozzarella sticks not fried to his desired crispiness?
“That was me and [REDACTED]’s favorite place, I can’t go back there, man.”
Yeesh. I felt bad. Not because I inadvertently brought up the guy’s ex-girlfriend, but because he had to write off what many proclaim is one of the best neighborhood restaurants in Brooklyn because of a girl. But I understood his mentality, sort of. Over their 4-month relationship, they had shared several meals at Bernie’s, one of which was a rowdy night celebrating her birthday. Within those walls on Driggs Ave were memories and feelings that my friend didn’t intend to revisit. Fair enough.
We dined at Cozy Royale instead. It was perfectly solid.
It begs the question: When a relationship dies, what happens to the places you frequented together? Should these spots be redlined by both parties? Do they get divvied up like a divorce proceeding? There are, of course, many considerations and scenarios at play here. Shared memories at a restaurant are one thing. The breakup occurring at the restaurant is another. The length and intensity of the relationship are certainly factors. Quantity of visits another.
Generally speaking, I opt for the steamroller approach. Pave over the memories with new ones until it don’t hurt no more. My first trip to Cervo’s was an unbelievably good third date, snugly packed into a two-top towards the back. We laughed, drank 50/50 martinis, and shared stories about our family’s restaurant backgrounds. I never heard from her again. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting. But you better believe I was back at Cervo’s in due time, diving into skate wing and piri-piri chicken. Do you think one ghosting is gonna stop me from eating the best prawns of my damn life? Hell no.
But that was a date, not a relationship. It could be that my relationship traumas are relatively minor. I could totally see not wanting to go back to the restaurant where you had your rehearsal dinner the night before you got left at the altar. Very fair. But generally speaking, I don’t think a few memories are enough to justify canceling any of your favorite spots. There are plenty of restaurants in this city, yes. But there are only so many great ones.
Another consideration is when there’s a high possibility of a run-in, which changes everything. Take two hypothetical lovebirds on the Lower East Side, for example. One lovebird introduced the other to Café Integral, an excellent Nicaraguan-focused coffee shop on Elizabeth St. Over their year-and-a-half-long relationship, which ended in anguish, they stopped in together for cortados with house-made almond milk nearly every morning. I’m sorry lovebird #2, but I believe the introducer gets the edge. You’ll have to shlep it over to La Cabra on Lafayette from here on out. No clear introducer? Did you find the place together? Whoever lives physically closer stakes claim, IMO.
Another exception to my steamroller approach would be if your ex works at a certain restaurant or bar, I guess that’s a reason to steer clear.
At Bernie’s, after each party pays their bill and walks out the door, the server strips off the crayon-drawing-covered paper tablecloth and lays down a fresh, blank one. Yeah, it’s an insignificant feature at a silly restaurant. But maybe it's a metaphor… maybe there’s a deeper meaning. What if Bernie’s is telling us that their restaurant, that every restaurant, is built on fleeting moments and memories that reset every time you visit? Maybe they’re telling us that we shouldn’t latch on too tightly, because those tangible drawings will be gone in a matter of moments, replaced by whatever the next set of guests dreams up.
Recently Added
The newest additions to the Flood’s hit list
InterStellar BBQ Austin, Texas
Getting myself into a proper barbecue situation was priority number one on my recent trip down to ATX. After a spirited, highly debated selection process (Franklin, la, and KG were also finalists), it was decided that the recently Michelin-starred purveyor of smoked meats, InterStellar BBQ, would be the destination for the pursuit.
Pulling up to a strip mall with a chiropractic clinic and tattoo removal center, I was skeptical that life-changing meats were imminent. After a painstaking 90-minute wait in line, my skepticism flipped to admiration. I’m no expert in this barbecue craft — it’s not something I often eat, nor am I well-versed in smoke rings and basting brushes. But I’ll tell you this: the brisket, pork ribs, and beef kielbasa at InterStellar were enough to make you reconsider every piece of meat you’ve ever consumed; tender and fatty with a glistening barky exterior, intensely smoky, and unbelievably flavorful. Concocting a bite with some white bread and pickles was a level of comfort unfamiliar to me — and I grew up in an incredibly loving household. Sides, like creamy jalapeno slaw, buttery scalloped potatoes, and velvety mac, round out the experience beautifully. This is a meal that’s guaranteed to wipe you out for the rest of the day — but when in Rome (Austin), it’s a damn worthy endeavor.
Hart’s Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn
I can’t tell you why Hart’s flew under my radar for so long, especially considering it’s the celebrated prequel to another favorite of mine, Cervo’s. But I’ll gladly put my hand up and admit it was a mistake. Tucked underneath the Franklin Ave C, Hart’s is a neighborhood restaurant in the truest sense of the term. It’s a place that’s been around for 8 years, has a timeless design, and carries an ever-changing menu. Past the slate-blue facade is an oddly shaped, but remarkably cozy and endearing, 30-seat dining room. Gathered around the long communal table, you can’t help but feel like you’re settling into a tasteful, energetic dinner party in Bed-Stuy. The focal point of the space is a warmly backlit, five-seat bar with a window into the coat closet kitchen. From this little kitchen emerges dishes that are bold, thoughtful, unpretentious, and honestly, just fun to eat — like tuna conserva with basque peppers and tahini, and pork milanese with briny anchovies and crisp celery. It’s less about Hart’s individual dishes, though, and more about the overarching experience, which is what I find myself longing for. Rounding the hectic street corner, settling into the vibrant dining room, getting wrapped in warm hospitality, being poured a perfect Negroni, and going in on whatever they’re cooking that day. Hart’s is a highly repeatable dining experience — the perfect example of a restaurant aging gracefully from upstart darling to neighborhood institution.
Best Dishes
Some of the best things I ate (or drank) recently
Breakfast Tacos — Texas Honey Ham Austin, Texas
Another highlight of the trip down south was a leisurely mid-day breakfast taco hang before bouncing around town hitting dive bars, and drinking Lone Stars (tough life down in Texas). Breakfast tacos are a cultural fixture in Austin, not dissimilar to the utility of a BEC in NYC. Veracruz All Natural has sorta established itself as the gold standard and market leader for breakfast tacos. And while their tacos are undeniably tasty, my preference leans toward the lesser-known gem: Texas Honey Ham. Their highly customizable rendition always features a chewy flour tortilla, which I packed with scrambled eggs, honey-glazed ham, (amalgamated) cheese, and spicy serranos. It’s wrapped in foil — which keeps things just a little steamy — and served with freshly made salsas. It’s not exactly a glamorous scene, but it’s a true-to-Austin scene, and certainly a rite of passage.
MI Honeycrisp Apple Kimchi — Mabel Gray Hazel Park, Michigan
Mabel Gray is one of the best restaurants around Metro Detroit — it’s part of a tight list of restaurants I prioritize visiting whenever I’m back around town. Mabel has been around for almost a decade but still feels innovative and fresh across every visit, largely driven by their highly seasonal, genre-bending menu. Their MI Honeycrisp Apple Kimchi is such a stellar dish — one of the few that finds its way back on the menu every fall. Sweet, snappy apples sit underneath a thick slab of bacon. There’s acidity from a lemony yogurt, sweetness from candied cashews, crunch from celery, and a touch of spice and umami from a kimchi vinaigrette. It covers so much flavorful and textual ground, showcasing some of the best produce Michigan has to offer.
Flood’s Hi-Fi
Artists and records for moving and grooving
Mk.gee — Two Star & The Dream Police (album)
There wasn’t an album I listened to in the back half of 2024 more than Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police. It’s a wildly creative, guitar-driven record with a rawness and unpredictability that feels so vulnerable and emotionally charged. There’s this looming abstractness and murkiness that I love — even after dozens of listens, I always feel lost in the woods, lost in the sound. The vocals, heavily modulated in a way that channels some of Frank Ocean’s brilliance, have a spacey, dreamy, ultrasonic quality to them. The “demo” sound, filled with choppy bits and distorted synths, reminds me of Jai Paul’s Leak 04-13 (Bait Ones), although with a few more “breakthroughs” where we reach these heavenly moments of clarity on the other side of the dark forest.
Röyksopp - Melody A.M. (album)
The days are short in the dead of winter. The weather is dreary — at some moments even bleak. Röyksopp is on my speakers at a moderate volume — specifically Melody A.M., the band’s hauntingly beautiful 2001 debut album. Norwegian down-tempo electronica is what my mind desires on days when the sun don’t shine. The soundscapes, as vast as the flatlands of Fargo, North Dakota, capture the melancholic feeling that is so prevalent when you look out the window to grey skies and the absence of pedestrians on otherwise busy streets. Melody A.M. has twinkles of light, and glimmers of hope woven carefully throughout, offering a sort of nuanced beauty that I find mysterious and enchanting. I briefly considered offering you a few of my favorite songs from the album, but I don’t want you skipping right to ‘em — it’s a record that should be listened through top-to-bottom (I do love “A Higher Place” in any context though). You’ll probably recognize “Remind Me” from this legendary Geico commercial. They don’t make commercials like that anymore. Nor do they make music that captures the visceral sensation of heavy snowfall in Bergen.
Get the full Flood’s Hi-Fi playlist, updated regularly on Spotify
Up Next
Places on my radar
Ha’s Snack Bar Lower East Side, New York — The roving pop-up legends have landed on the Lower East Side, a permanent home for their always-changing, always-interesting Vietnamese-ish dishes.
Entre Nous Clinton Hill, Brooklyn — A corner wine bar and small plates spot from Fradei that feels perfectly primed for a neighborhoody date night.
Bridges Two Bridges, New York — Let’s see what this comté tart is all about.
Very intrigued about your opinion on Bridges… for I have many, also take a peek at Smithereens for the future if you haven’t been yet!