Immaculate Infatuation

Whether or not you are a fan of Lucali seems to come down to two things – how long you had to wait for your table, and how you were treated in the process. The few people that have told us this place is overrated complained not about the pizza, but had beef because the sarcastic Brooklyn girl up front wasn’t so nice to them. We get it – we have definitely been on the receiving end of some half-serious abuse from a Lucali waitress. As a matter of fact, I believe I was officially banned from the restaurant last time because I asked twice about the toppings.

Honestly though, for us that’s all part of the game. Yes, it can be annoying to deal with an unpredictable situation, but for a pizza this good, we’re willing to deal with it. It’s all about knowing what to expect going in, and understanding that you might not end up with a table, no matter what they told you twenty minutes ago. Want to save yourself some disappointment? Don’t bring your fiance’s parents here. Don’t come without a backup plan. Don’t bring a date that you’re trying to impress with your restaurant game. Don’t try to hit Lucali before you have to catch a flight, report for military service, or do anything else that you can’t be late for. But if you’re down to just grab a bottle of wine, show up at 6pm, and pray that you get a table, you might be diving into some of the best pizza this city (and therefore Planet Earth) has to offer. Read below for what might be the shortest food rundown in Infatuation history – your options are pizza or calzone. Order both.

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You might remember a review/rant we wrote about Tipsy Parson and the so called “comfort food” there that really isn’t comfort food. In case you were wondering where all that anger came from, it has built up over time from repeated dissapointment. The bottom line in most of these cases is that if you want real comfort food, skip the trendy new spots and go to Harlem or Charleston. Or maybe just go have dinner at grandma’s. We’re sure she would love to see you.

But there are some exceptions to the let downs, and Buttermilk Channel is one of them. It exceeded our expectations, not only when it comes to the menu of classic American guilty pleasures, but also the restrained and tasteful decor. No antique phones or kitschy mugs on display here. This is simply a true Brooklyn Neighborhood Hang, and it’s equally popular among young hipster singles and the families that fill it for Sunday dinner. The fried chicken is one of the best you’ll find in town, and almost everything else you’ll eat here is fantastic. Just don’t over do it – this food is rich and we suspect that it’s not entirely healthy. Then again, we’re not doctors, so who’s to say it isn’t? Oh right. Doctors.

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We’ve been spending a lot more time in Brooklyn lately, and it’s not the indie music scene or girls in ironic glasses drawing us in (please god let that trend end soon). We know we aren’t exactly breaking any news by telling you there are outstanding restaurants all over the borough, but now that some ground has been covered in Manhattan, we’re ready to start expanding the Infatuation empire. It’s business time in BK.

Prime Meats has been on our list for a while now – we love Frankie’s Spuntino (owned by the same people), and we love meat. We also happen to be big fans of old timey things, and Prime Meats was meticulously designed to feel like it came from old timey New York. There’s a beautiful antique bar, the staff all look like extras from Gangs of New York, and you should know that, just like in the 1890’s, they only take cash. The menu is heavy and meat-centric, but most everything is incredible, especially the steaks and anything that sounds German, which is pretty much everything. Before you go, know that this is the kind of place you make a night of. You will likely wait a long while for your table, will likely drink far too many vintage cocktails, and will more than likely want to die from eating so much. As long as you plan accordingly, you should come away happy.

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Known to most simply as Frankies 457, this is the flagship restaurant from “The Franks” who (see it coming?) happen to be two guys named Frank. The Franks are also the proprietors of Prime Meats, and 457’s Lower East Side clone, Frankies 17. Not that Frankies needs another glowing review, but this place really is a fantastic restaurant if you can manage to get a table. It’s a tiny, cozy joint with simple Italian cooking, and the food is pretty damn great. Also adding to the awesome is a very reasonably priced wine selection and playlists that are heavy on The Stones and Zeppelin. It’s a nice place to linger, especially in the summer when the back garden is open. Downside? Tough to linger when you can’t get a table. Waits can push well past an hour during prime time, sometimes close to two. Every once in a while you’ll get lucky and sit sooner than you expect, but there isn’t a ton of bar real estate, even if you get sent next door to Prime Meats. The bummer of it all is that without those unpredictable waits, both 457 and 17 would be absolutely ideal date spots. Did you both have “unimaginable patience” listed as a quality on your match.com profile? Welcome to the best night of your life.

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