The New Cafes, Bars, and Restaurants on Driggs Avenue
Park Luncheonette
334 Driggs Avenue, at Lorimer Street
After eons of reconstruction, Park Luncheonette had a soft opening in late September. The marble-topped bar wraps tightly around an enormous whiskey collection, a non-pretentious bartender and a turntable (that during our visit played Sharon Jones, but there was also an Operation Ivy LP leaning against the exposed brick wall). The bar offers five seasonal cocktails, all $10. At the bartender’s suggestion, we tried No Sleep ‘Til (Brooklyn gin, Chartreuse, rosemary syrup, lemon) and Fig U (bourbon, Cointreau, fig, cinnamon syrup, lemon). No Sleep ‘Til tastes—as the bartender sweetly phrased it—herbacious. It’s Rosemary In Your Fucking Face, which rules as long as you’re a fan of the fragrant fire-escape plant (which I am). Fig U swerves spicier, the cinnamon syrup slamming your tastebuds before the tart fig mellowed the finish. (If cocktails aren’t your thing, there’re also seven beers on tap, three red wines, two whites and a sparkling.)
A manager offered us each a slice of pizza, whose thin, crispy crust folded easily. The sauce had just a hint of sweetness, holding the modest amount of cheese in place. The pizza recipe is the same one a Park partner uses at his New England shop, the manager told us. Although we caught slices by chance, the restaurant plans to start serving them on the regular starting today. Plain cheese and pepperoni slices are $2; fancier slices, like Notorious F.I.G. (Ricotta, fresh mozz, black mission figs, sopressata, coarse black pepper) and Billy Lightning (caramelized vidalia onions, garlic, ricotta, fresh mozz, parmigiano reggiano, coarse black pepper) are $3. The bartender also mentioned a grand plan to sell the slices from one of the structure’s huge windows until very late at night. ”For the drunks,” she said. “I will be among them.”
The ambience at Park is grimy chic—like a thoughtfully pressed sports coat with fraying leather elbows. A dusty-teal communal bench bends along the wall and window. The semi-bare walls have large windows in them, the same windows from the structure’s original incarnation in the 1930s, which, unusual for the area, was actually the same thing it is now—a restaurant. Do those windows look familiar? They were in the opening scene of The Departed, the manager tells me, and I believe her because I don’t watch movies that don’t star Katherine Heigl.
Biggest perk: It’s another card-friendly spot! No official minimum when we visited. Also, holy crap, there’s so much seating—you can bring all those friends you’ve been meaning to visit outside of G-Chat!
Biggest bummer: Why couldn’t those windows be in the opening scene of New Year’s Eve? Also, I wish there were more drink options under $5; there’re only $4 cans of Tecate/PBR. (They should have settled on just one by today.)
Try: Fig U and a simple cheese slice. Together, before tip, it’s $12. WORD.
Hours: Daily, but flexible for now. Eventually they plan to roll out full menus for breakfast and lunch to join the forthcoming dinner options. “We will probably be open 21 hours a day,” the bartender tells me, and a small part of me, the part that watches over my wallet, shudders.
