Brunch Bets: Prime Meats

Rarely, if ever, do I crave steak and eggs for breakfast. But when said steak and eggs are from Prime Meats, I'm easily swayed. Owned and operated by childhood friends Frank Falcinelli and Frank Castronovo (aka "the Franks"), this Carroll Gardens restaurant is perpetually slammed with diners. And for good reason, the food and cocktails are absolutely delicious. Described as a farm-to-table restaurant with German influences, Prime Meats specializes in pre-Prohibition era handcrafted cocktails and hearty alpine cuisine. While dinner remains their specialty, one would be foolish to overlook the solid brunch.

Quick Bite: Lunch at No. 7 Sub Shop

In the past six months the Ace Hotel on 29th and Broadway has become the epicenter of the hipster foodie scene in Manhattan with the opening of The Breslin (and the rumored return of the John Dory), the first New York outpost of Stumptown Coffee, and now No. 7 Sub Shop. One of the first things I was taught in law school was the importance of defining one's terms, but with "hipster" and "foodie" the labels are fraught with so much peril and negative connotations that I will just throw up my hands and say "fuck it!" Having said that, there's definitely a vibe around the Ace Hotel which causes most people to immediately scream "hipster!" (never in my life have I overheard so many conversations using the term "social media" in one sitting).

No. 7 Sub Shop itself is located on Broadway, around the corner from the main entrance to the hotel. Walking in, the tall ceilings and dark wood-paneled walls dominate the room, making the cooks working feverishly behind the long counter look tiny in comparison. The expediter wore a Rushmore Academy Beekeeping Club t-shirt as he casually called out order numbers to the packed, steaming hot room. The menu is almost impossible to read in the dimness of the shop. Each sandwich (all are $9) is described on an individually framed poster, and the glare off the frames means anyone debating their order is forced to lean forward and squint to read each sandwich description.

The Pot Calling the Kettle Yellow and Montreal Smoked Meats

Despite all the buzz around Mile End, the first time I heard about this small deli located the Boerum Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn was when Chief suggested it for lunch before attending an Orientation to the Profession class presented by the good people at the Second Judicial Department. A three-hour class discussing legal ethics sounded about as much fun as attending a family reunion; mandatory, awkward and extremely boring with only the promise of good grub to help you through the excruciating pain. I kid, I kid! I don't despise my extended family that much, but the metaphor serves its purpose by emphasizing how good food can make a dull experience into an otherwise tolerable one. I've visited Montreal before, albeit only briefly, but was able to eat Montreal bagels and poutine so I was eager to see how this deli imported from Montreal stacked up.