Inga’s Bar, Gertrude’s, and Foul Witch

Carrie Bradsaw used her oven to store sweaters and took every dinner as an opportunity to put on a slinky new dress, slide into her Jimmy Choos, and step out into the glamorous New York City restaurant scene. And though I actually use my oven for cooking and mostly wear Vans, sometimes the pull of the New York restaurant world is too much to resist. Such was the case this week with not one, not two, but THREE dinners out at notable NYC restaurants.

Let’s start with the one we had last night in Brooklyn Heights. We’re lucky enough to be neighbors with Ryan Gannon, who’s overseen some of the city’s best bars, and currently presides behind the marble countertop at Inga’s Bar at the corner of Hicks and Cranberry (see above).

His cocktails are worth the price of admission alone. I started with his Negroni Primavera with gin, Aquavit, and créme de frais (you can see him presenting it on the upper left). With the anise flavor of the Aquavit, and the essence of strawberry, this Negroni tasted like a burst of springtime popping up through the bitterness of winter. Meanwhile, Craig wanted a spin on a Manhattan, so Ryan whipped up a Fourth Regiment which is a Manhattan with celery bitters (seen upper right).

For round two, Craig tried an Inga’s Martini with gin, fortified wines (including Sake), and house-pickled onion. It was like a regular martini with Japanese flair. For my round two, I tried the Sherry, Niles? with Fino sherry, meyer lemon, and bitters. I’m what you’d call Sherry-curious and Ryan was delighted by my order as a Sherry enthusiast himself. The aromatics were incredible: nutty, fruity, and — strangely enough — reminiscent of watermelon?

Before you think we drank ourselves into a stupor, we also had food! The kitchen gifted us a bowl of impeccable vichyssoises with lots of roasted garlic and croutons floating right in there, soaking up all the good stuff. We also ordered the giardiniera, which included a beautiful assortment of pickled vegetables including sprouting cauliflower and breakfast radishes.

To get a little more vegetables into our system, we ordered a grilled little gem salad which was like a wedge salad that won a beauty pageant. And for my entree, I had the justifiably famous burger. It was a dream-come true, especially as a way to soak up all the booze. And the fries? Crispy, hot, and perfect dipped into the ketchup and mayo that came with ‘em.

Needless to say, we loved our dinner at Inga’s Bar and can’t wait to go back.

The second meal (I’m working backwards here) was at Gertrude’s in Prospect Heights where we met up with our new friends Jason Kim and Jeremy Beiler, pictured here.

It’s no exaggeration to say that Gertrude’s is the kind of restaurant I’d want to open if I opened a restaurant. According to the chefs it’s inspired by their Jewish upbringing — there are latkes, and riffs on borscht — and favorite NYC restaurants, including Prune (my favorite restaurant of all time).

On the left, you’ll see their relish tray which came with pickled vegetables an cucumbers and fennel and green tomatoes and two things to dip it in, one involving dill. On the right was their pletzel, a Jewish flatbread similar to focaccia, served with duck butter. (How do they milk a duck?!) I thought a pletzel was a portmanteau word — pretzel + pl??? — but it’s actually just a historic Jewish bread. It was divine.

We also ordered the Spätzle special (say that six times fast) with meat — I forget what kind. It was tangy and rich and tasted like the kind of thing you’d want to eat on a cold winter’s night, which this almost was. (It was more of a chilly, wet, early-spring night.)

For my entree, I had the pickle-brined chicken that was truly divine (and I’ve had the chicken at Sailor). It came with a mustardy, vinegar-y sauce that I could’ve sucked up with a straw or mopped up with more pletzel.

As you can see, I ordered mine with the supplemental latkes (an extra six dollars) and as a bit of a latke aficionado — I twice made 300 of them for an annual latke party — I loved how crispy these were on the outside, but I found them slightly raw on the inside? That’s the danger in keeping them thick, if you don’t flatten them, the insides don’t get cooked.

But all was forgiven when the dessert arrived and we all nearly plotzed. This black-and-white cake deserves NYC landmark status.

This was one of Pete Wells’s Top 8 Things that he ate in 2023 and I can see why. There are two frostings — a mocha buttercream and a dark chocolate ganache — and I ate so much of this, I think our new friends were rethinking this whole arrangement.

Now when you look at all this food, you’re probably thinking: “There’s no possible way that he had another indulgent meal the night before this?!” Oh, but he did.

On Tuesday, Craig had dinner plans and I was supposed to go to Sofreh (another notable Brooklyn restaurant) with my friend Daniel, but then Daniel got sick, I cancelled the res, and wound up at the bar at Foul Witch — a restaurant I’ve been dying to try since I first heard about it.

That bread on the upper left may have been my favorite bite of the whole meal, which is not meant to be unkind, but instead a celebration of a warm baguette with salted butter and a perfectly crispy piece of foccacia. But that’s not doing justice to the celery salad which was a riff on a Puntarelle salad, with anchovies and Pecorino. The most remarkable thing about it was the texture they achieved with the celery — getting it to curl and pop, by slicing on a specific device and then plopping it in ice water.

Then, of course, there are the famous Sorona beans which are almost buttery in their softness, enlivened with a dollop of salsa verde. And the tortellini may seem humble enough but they’re like soup dumplings filled with sweetbreads and demi-glace — the richest, most surprising soup dumplings of your life.

For dessert, I had the bay leaf gelato with huckleberries: a cooling, refreshing end to a totally topsy-turvy, destabilizing, and utterly delicious meal.

It should come as no surprise that I’m about to pop in my ear buds, cue up the Barbra Streisand memoir (I’m an hour in), and head to the gym. Gotta burn off these meals and make room for whatever’s coming tonight. You didn’t think I was actually going to turn on my oven, did you? I live in New York now, baby!