There isn’t much in the way of Mexican to choose from in this town, so to some extent, I can understand why Mole gets good reviews. It’s a charming enough little spot – a handful of tables, walls painted in vivid colors, Spanish tiles – with all the necessary trimmings for a “family run” Mexican restaurant. Considering that most other Mexican joints around town either double as Chinese food restaurants (see Happy Taco) or downright suck, I get why Mole receives some love. The margaritas are good, and after a few, that guacamole is pretty slammin’. However, the food is average at best. In addition, it’s not cheap, it’s cash only, and the quality of service varies wildly from visit to visit. It’s almost like the restaurant equivalent of a bipolar kid with a really nice boat. You want to like him, and you give him a few chances, but you don’t want to hang out on a boat with someone that unpredictable. At the end of the day, there are other places to better satisfy your Mexican cravings than Mole, and they don’t require you to hit an ATM like you’re about to board a plane for Vegas. If you’re looking for some quality Mexican, head to Mexico Lindo instead.
When you name your restaurant Good, it damn well better be just that. Mediocrity ain’t gonna cut it, and you better impress. Thanks mainly to the food, Good stays relatively true to its name. It’s a useful neighborhood option, good for a meal at anytime of day. It gets crazy for brunch and rightfully so, they do good work with eggs. For West Village locals, they’re a heavy rotation delivery spot as well. It’s not all good all the time though. The quality of the food and setting in which you eat doesn’t do the menu justice, everything seems to be $4-5 too expensive. It’s essentially a not as good, West Village version of Infatuation favs The Smith and Jane, and it’s more expensive. The décor is nothing special and the service is consistently not be good. Lastly, beware of sitting up front near the fly infested windows; you might as well be eating your breakfast burrito in Somalia.
New York Magazine recently wrote up The Standard Grill under the title “Above Standard”. Well, guess what, we’ve got higher standards than that. While we loved spending a few hours blowing up Twitter with live commentary from that ridiculous scene, the bottom line is that the food at The Standard Grill is bad. This review almost got tagged with “perfect for: wasting your time and money“, but the decent pork chop and constant parade of cougars and euros in and out of the place were worth a handful of points. The restaurant is massive, and includes a wrap around patio in front and a beer garden on the side, complete with ping-pong tables and picnic bench seating. Perfect for mixing it up with the business casual dudes that have since abandoned Brass Monkey. It seems the Standard Grill is the new place to see-and-be-seen, whether you’re a nightclub socialite, a recent Wisconsin grad, or a Real Housewife of New Jersey. I’m sure that the food is good enough to keep those types coming back, but we expect more, and if you’re reading this website, chances are you do too. It’s going to take more than a bowl of chocolate mousse and three spatulas (see the food rundown) to get us throwing around accolades. Go spend your hard earned dollars on something satisfying.
If you were to draft up a checklist of all the essentials for a hipster restaurant, Lodge in Williamsburg would look pretty damn-near perfect on paper. Deer antler chandeliers? Check. Cans of Genny Cream and Schmidt? Check. Bar made of reclaimed wood? Check. TV set from 1987? Check. I could go on…but you get the idea. Sure, hipsters are easy targets, and mocking them has become a cliché in its own right, but it’s too hard to resist here. The warm and cozy adirondack cabin thing at Lodge feels forced and contrived. And yes, we get the whole beards and flannel irony of a dude that goes fly fishing in Brooklyn. This place is unfortunately like Freemans’ apathetic little brother – trying hard to emulate, but falling short of the effortless cool of their older sibling.
When it comes to good food and service, that hipster ideal of just not giving a shit doesn’t fly. Our party of four came in on a slow weekday night and our waitress was disinterested from the start. We don’t ask for much, and all it takes is about thirty seconds of pretending like you actually care for us to feel loved. Come say hello once. Let us know you’re at least attempting to do your job. Also, try not to give us terrible reccomendations (see the whole grilled trout). Lodge’s menu looked good, and it’s pretty damn cheap, but it ultimately fell short on the follow through. We’ll pass on the Brooklyn hipster aesthetic and eat somewhere good instead.
