Being David Chang’s wing-man apparently gets old pretty quickly. Despite having been a part of one of the most obsessed over and successful Manhattan food empires well, ever, Joaquin Baca decided to sell his Momofuku shares and open his own spot in Brooklyn. Can you blame him? It’s no fun when the other guy gets all the credit (and curses at you all day). Baca’s departure from Momo and his “return” to the Southern flavors he was brought up on has created a nice little food buzz across the dining community, so we decided to check it out.

We dropped by The Star before Hot Chip played Music Hall of Williamsburg a couple of weeks back. It’s an inviting spot, with a humble demeanor and a laid back, first come, first serve attitude. We were pleasantly surprised to grab a table without having to wait during prime time. While there certainly are some gems on the menu (we dug the cornbread, bacon wrapped trout and the country fried steak), some of the more traditional dishes left us scratching our heads. The Dr. Pepper ribs were just bad, which is ridiculous considering our waitress claimed they were everyone’s favorite. The braised pork shank was massive, but it was missing the magic. Unfortunately, The Star isn’t the home run we were expecting. More like a solid double in the gap. If you order right, you can have a successful face-stuffing feast – you get a ton of food for the price. Arrive hungry, leave full (and with leftovers), but don’t expect to be blown away.

Photo Credit: Robyn Lee/Serious Eats

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If you read our reviews or follow us on Twitter, you know that food, music, and sports are on an equal playing field. In general, we loath most sports bars. We have no time for tasteless places that think merely having the game on is enough reason to exist. It’s not hard to put together and semi-classy place with excessive flat screens and reasonable pub grub, so why aren’t there more quality sports bars in the city with the world’s most dedicated sports fans?

New York Ranger/Vogue Magazine intern heartthrob Sean Avery must have thought he was coming to the rescue when he opened his own upscale spot in Tribeca, an area in dire need of a good sports haven. Don’t get me wrong, the place is dope. With a vintage locker room vibe, walls filled with memorabilia of local sports heroes like Joe Namath, Lawrence Taylor, and Dave DeBusschere, comfy leather booths and cocktail table video games, Warren 77 certainly could be an Infatuation hangout.

Unfortunately, Avery opened this “sports bar” with the guys famous for making Beatrice Inn the hottest coke den for gossip girls citywide. Yeah sure, rolling into your local sports bar and finding blondes in heels lining the bar is cool … for about 60 seconds. Until they start yapping way too loud and asking you to explain the game of baseball to them.

If you’re into blow, don’t care about watching a game, like shitty bar food, and are looking to get laid, jack our ranking up three whole points – this place is for you. If not, avoid this place like the plague. For a sports bar, screens are limited, the layout does not accommodate big crowds (exactly what Warren 77 attracts on game night), and the back area is worse than the 4 train to Yankee Stadium at 6:30 on game day. So much for the whole “the space is dope” thing.

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