Ugly Baby

Two visits to the same restaurant in a matter of months for us two who don't eat out all that often, means it must be worth sharing with you. So today you get my chili-filled ramblings about a new favorite: Ugly Baby. 

This tiny restaurant's about the same size as our very small living room. The walls are covered in bright, warm paint, a line of tables is squeezed down one side, and a minuscule open kitchen is squished in the back. Combined with the waiters' colorful—often fruit-themed shirts—and upbeat music, it's clear that Ugly Baby is here to entertain you. And you soon learn you'll be doing that in the sweatiest, noisiest way (Did you know certain chilis make you temporarily lose your hearing?). 

Between two people you'll get through about three dishes from the neon menu (we tried to order more on our first visit and left with enough food to keep us going for a couple more days). The waitress will talk to you about how much spice you think you can manage, and what you should order based on that. Don't try to impress her with your heat-tolerance: she won't believe you, and you'll regret it. That dish which begins with "stay-away spicy" really is stay-away spicy. 

Tue Ka Ko (little coconut milk cakes)

Our two favorite dishes which are still on the menu are the sweet, definitely not super spicy, Tue Ka Ko (little coconut milk cakes with black bean and taro), and Kao Tod Nam Klook (curried rice, pork skin, peanut and ginger) served with a mountain of fresh leaves, herbs, and raw veg, to make the most magical lettuce wraps (pictured up top!). The green chicken curry was the spiciest thing I've ever had. I couldn't hear. My eyes were watering. Wine didn't help. Water didn't help. Thankfully, the remaining coconut milk cake did. But it was fantastic and worth every burning mouthful.

Rice vermicelli & spicy green chicken curry.

Try to go early: those tables fill up fast. Listen to the waitress: she wants to help you. But be prepared for pice: you're not going to walk out of there without a hint of heat tingling on your lips.

Ugly Baby, 407 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY 10002

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Metta

Wandering around Fort Greene on a fall evening is like floating through a Brooklyn dream. Majestic brownstones line the sides of the quiet roads, kids scoot home with parents hurrying along side, flowers fill the front gardens and climb over front doors, and trees line the sidewalks. It's picturesque. When you then round the corner and find a glass-fronted, plant-surrounded, bustling restaurant, you should definitely go in. Hopefully the restaurant you walked into is called Metta.

The main focus of this restaurant? The open wood fire. It warms the room (both atmospherically and temperature-wise), is the source of much of its attention, and dominates the menu. In a good way. The executive chef, Noberto Piattoni, hails from Argentina, where he spent time learning the magic of cooking over fire with the food world’s fire god, Francis Mallman.

The menu features a showstopper steak cooked on the wood-fired grill and served with an addictive chimichurri. I'll now never want to each chicken that's not cooked over a fire. And I'll need to build a fire before I next try to cook mackerel. But that was only the mains. We started with crispy, crunchy schmaltz potatoes (aka marathon runner's heaven), and charred flatbread with tzatziki. Then we worked our way through the farmers' market with the small plates: tonnato with market vegetables, charred fairytale eggplant, and a salad of peach, rye berries, charred tomato, tomatillo and crème fraîche.

We were pretty overwhelmed by char by this point. We loved it, but charred sweet potato wasn't the dessert we were craving. So back we went to Van Leeuwen for ice cream, because that's our routine these days.

Metta, 197 Adelphi Street, Brooklyn, NY 11205.

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East One

When a coffee shop opens with your old London post code as its name, nostalgia comes flooding back. Even before we'd tasted the coffee, we were unfairly biased towards loving this place.

While we're not short of coffee options in our Boerum Hill/Cobble Hill neighborhood, a beautifully designed new place, roasting its own beans and frothing creamy milk, is always welcome.

The imposing dark grey building is brightened up with huge windows, and a simple red London post code sign. The coffee roaster itself is displayed in a glass box: we can look, but not touch. There's no underestimating how much of a prized possession this magic machine is!

We stopped in for morning coffee and muffins: on a Saturday it's packed. On the weekdays, you can find a table to sit and work in an idyllic caffeine-fueled, airy space. In the back room, behind the bustling, Nordic-inspired café, you'll find an all-day restaurant. It's next on our list for a proper brunch — malted pancakes with berry compote, mascarpone, and maple syrup can't be ignored for much longer.

East One, 384 Court St, Brooklyn, NY 11231.

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5ive Spice

A restaurant with a number in its name, which serves a fusion of Vietnamese and Mexican food, should be a disaster. Somehow, 5ive Spice has achieved an impossible feat, and defies all expectations its name and concept provide.

We honored our suspicious instinct on our first few visits, and ordered the truly Vietnamese options i.e. the pho. The broth is elegantly spiced, meaty but not fatty, and so fragrant. When you take a spoonful, you feel its healing and comforting powers. Slurp up the noodles, chew the extremely generous portions of meat, and sprinkle on as much cilantro, basil, lime, and chiles as your tastebuds desire. Every bowl is huge, but you'll finish every last drop. That broth is too good to leave behind.

When you do trust this place enough to venture further afield on the menu, you'll have a revelation that these two cuisines can indeed be successfully combined. Tacos filled with lightly pickled veg and lemongrass grilled chicken are terrifyingly addictive; and grilled corn, it turns out, makes a great accompaniment to a bright rice vermicelli salad (pictured above).

No alcohol is served, and the prices are incredibly reasonable. You'll be heading back for another bowl of healing pho as soon as the next rainy day arrives.

5ive Spice, 52 5th Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11217.

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Elsa

Should you spend the evening before a crazy fast 5k race drinking cocktails? Probably not. But Elsa had only just opened that Friday night, and we couldn't wait to go. So the race was allowed to fall down the priority list, as we made space in our lives for a couple of fantastic cocktails.

The original Alphabet City location of this bar closed in 2014. Those locals mourned it, but the locals of its newfound home are overjoyed with its re-opening. Sitting on Atlantic Avenue, half a block away from another top cocktail spot, The Long Island Bar, Elsa is already packed with thirsty locals at 6pm on a Friday.

A neon sign of an angry-looking woman sits in the window, and inside everything becomes rather glam. Crystal pendant lights, a polished brass bar, marble tables, flickering candles and beers poured through a vintage sewing machine. Quirky, cool, and the prettiest place to while away an evening.

The cocktail list is long, and demands some tough decisions. After faltering between an aged Negroni, a spiced tequila creation, or maybe even a gin & Pimm's summer sensation, we eventually settled on a Two French Sisters (vodka, St. Germain, lemon, orange bitters, Champagne) and a happy hour special Old Fashioned. And nuts. Obviously. We runners need snacks.

Do we need to tell you they were wonderful? It was hard to resist a second. But race-fueling beckoned, so the drinks had to wait for next time. And we're promised frozen rosé with watermelon in Elsa's patio in the summer months, so it won't be long before we return.

Elsa, 136 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11201.

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Ba Xuyên

Ever since I visited Vietnam, and then worked round the corner from London's Kêu, I have been obsessed with bánh mì.  Something about that crunchy on the outside, soft in the middle baguette, the rich, roasted meat, the tangy, lightly-pickled veggies, and the hot, hot chili has me oooh-ing and aaaah-ing after every bite.

New York Sunday afternoons are best spent exploring a far-flung neighborhood, hunting out a niche meal. We've done this with baklava, whiskey, fried chicken, barbecue, and, of course, dumplings, to name a few. Bánh mì was next on the list.

A sunny day on the top of Sunset Park has the most magnificent views of Manhattan. Once you've climbed to the top, soaked up the blue skies, the seemingly endless sprawling city, and given your legs a break, it's high time for lunch. Stroll down the other side of the hill, into the residential streets of Sunset Park, and keep winding until you arrive at Ba Xuyên.

Pick a bánh mì from the pictures at the front, and in anywhere between five and 20 minutes you'll have a giant sandwich in your hands. Crisp, crumbling baguette crust spills all over your lap when you bite into it. It gives way to the soft white bread, and underneath that, you'll find roughly chopped, deeply flavored meat, sweet, lightly pickled julienned veggies, bunches of fresh cilantro, and the occasional spicy chili pepper. It's rich, satisfying, and immensely craveable. The combination ingredients, and crazy affordable price, makes it well worth trekking to Sunset Park for your Sunday lunch.

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Lucali

Naming the best pizza in New York will lead to an argument. It's inevitable. I think even I have named at least three pizza restaurants the best in the city, and now I'm back to add a fourth to that list.

Lucali is famous for its wait, the occasional visits from Beyoncé, the fact that the owner and chef had never actually been to Italy when he opened this place, and, of course, its pizza.

Deep in Carroll Gardens, this restaurant is packed full of locals, Manhattanites who've journeyed here for the (maybe) best pizza in NYC, and a couple of in-the-know tourists, every night of the week. Get there early, and be prepared to disappear for a while to wait. On our first visit the wait was around four hours (I'm not exaggerating). The second, it was closer to two. So make sure you have a pre-dinner drinks option planned before you go. We're fans of August Laura, which is only a couple of blocks away.

You could also use this time to go and select your wine to drink with dinner. Lucali is entirely BYO. If you forget, you'll be having Pepsi. So don't do that.

When you do get inside, it's obvious why everyone is happy to spend so long waiting to walk over the guarded threshold. Tables are spaced out through the front half of the room. The back half is taken up by an expansive kitchen space. The lights are dimmed to that perfect this-is-romantic-but-I-can-still-see-you level, wood furniture adds a hint of traditional Italian trattoria, and everyone is talking, whispering, laughing, sipping, and eating slice after slice of pizza.

There's not really a menu. Someone will recite the toppings to you as they open your wine, and the rest is up to you. Select the toppings and the size of pizza. As a general rule, one large pizza between two fairly hungry people is ideal. I'll let you pick your own toppings. Our favorite has to be simply as it comes, topped with all the basil and garlic the kitchen has on hand.

Start pouring the wine, and sip away until your crisp, thin, sizzling pizza arrives on its pedestal. Fold each slice and eat. I guarantee you'll declare this to be the best pizza you've ever had in the city. It's probably true.

Lucali, 575 Henry Street, Brooklyn, NY 11231.

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Freek's Mill

Freek's Mill isn't the kind of restaurant you stumble across on a Friday evening. While an evening stroll through Gowanus may not have been top of my parents to-do list on their most recent visit, eating at Freek's Mill with them was top of mine.

Pass the disused cars, parking lots, and empty warehouses, and you'll find a glowing haven, with a beautiful logo painted on the side, sitting on the corner of this cobbled Brooklyn road. Inside, tables line the walls, a counter wraps round the front windows, a bar glimmers, and the sounds of an open kitchen travel through from the next room.

This restaurant isn't for the selfish. The menu of sharing plates has to be split amongst you all: the rich, deep flavors of each dish make a few mouthfuls of each perfect, but eating the entire serving of it alone would be a challenge. An umami-party like this one requires good friends, plenty of funky wine, and a couple of hours to really take in the wide range of dishes presented to you.

Tuscan kale with honey crisp apples, Marcona almonds, and Beechers cheddar. Yet another competitor for top kale salad. How are there quite so many spectacular kale salads in this city? It's amazing.

Charred radicchio with straciatella and candied walnuts. Sweet enough to absorb the leaves' bitter flavor, with the creamy fresh cheese bringing rich comfort.

Montauk scallop crudo with pickled persimmon, cilantro, and crème fraîche. Refreshing, zingy, sweet, creamy: balancing magic.

Roasted beets with chickpeas, speck, and soft boiled egg. The prettiest comfort food.

Octopus with peewee potatoes and chorizo vinaigrette. No chewiness on this giant octopus tentacle. Smoky potatoes and paprika-heavy vinaigrette bought a hint of Spain to the table. And alongside that we devoured Brussels sprouts with apple-maple butter and bacon. All sprouts should be eaten like this forever and ever.

Pappardelle with rabbit ragu, guanciale, and wild nettles felt a little strange sitting amongst the other heavily flavored dishes, but in itself was an example of perfect pasta. If you needed proof that the Freek's Mill team can cook, this is is.

We were warned when we ordered roasted pork jowl with smashed cucumbers, cashews, and cilantro, that the joy of this dish was in the fat. This fatty meat was tender, and, drenched in Szechuan-inspired flavors, it was beautifully more-ish. But yes, the joy was in the fat.

We found dessert round the corner at Ample Hills (because you can't be that close to ice cream heaven and not visit). The perfect food-filled Friday night. In Gowanus. Sometimes Brooklyn really does seem magical.

Freek's Mill, 285 Nevins Street, Brooklyn, NY 11217.

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Milk Bar

My Instagram feed has me dreaming of life in Australia most days of the week. Beaches, sunshine, surfing, space, smiles, shorts, coffee, and endless plates of avocado toast with poached eggs seems to be the routine norm in that faraway, Trump-free land. Sadly, that typically resembles a total of 0% of my current life, but today my Australian dream was momentarily made a reality.

The sun shone, (yes it was -1˚C, but let's ignore that), I went for a blast round the park, and met injured, non-running B outside Milk Bar, which is a hop, skip and jump away from the Prospect Park's main entrance. After a 30-second wait the two seats in the window were ours. Water was poured, coffees ordered, and the "which eggs" debate began. 

We settled on plain eggs (two perfectly poached eggs) served on thick-crusted, soft in the middle sourdough, with extra avocado for good measure for me, and salmon eggs (similar but with the decadent addition of smoked salmon, pickled shallots, and fresh dill) for B. If you're looking for the perfect egg, come here. They have this Aussie-style brunch sorted. The granola with fruit and yogurt also looked beautiful, the pastries from Sullivan Street Bakery are, reportedly, buttery perfection, and next time I'll order a cappuccino with chocolate dusted on top. 

Milk Bar, 620 Vanderbilt Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11238

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Sunken Hundred

Restaurants on Smith Street seem to either open and fizzle out into nothingness in under 5 minutes, or they open and are wildly popular and will be there for the forever future. Despite opening as the first 'Welsh' restaurant anyone in Brooklyn has ever heard of, Sunken Hundred has, since its first day of service earlier this year, managed to achieve the latter status. At 6.30 on a Friday it was already bustling, drinks were being poured, and food was whizzing out the kitchen.

And no, before you ask, the menu isn't just Welsh Rarebit, Glamorgan sausage, and Bara Brith (although they do make an appearance). It's filled with seafood, seaweed-tainted dishes, and warming (necessary both here and in the Welsh countryside), seasonal, vegetable-rich sides and salads. With a drinks order in (one huge glass of red wine, one beer, and one dark rye cocktail), we picked out all the non-shellfish foods on the menu (B is supposedly 'allergic'), and watched them all steadily appear on our table over the evening.

Croquettes were crisp and fishy and perfect dipped in a mustard sauce. Fish churros (described as the most 'Instagram-able' dish on the menu, so obviously we were sold) were genius: all the flavors and textures you want from classic fish and chips in one fried mouthful. A lamb pasty was how pasties should be, with crisp pastry and a flavorful interior — a far cry from the pasty scent which fills most British train stations. The squid was pretty and sweet, while the mushroom salad was earthy and autumnal, and the ffagodau (meatballs on minty peas) are what I'll be eating for the rest of winter

And obviously we ended with pan fried Bara Brith with rum and walnut ice cream. Twice. Because when a group of runners go out together, one dessert between three is simply not enough.

Sunken Hundred strikes the perfect balance between curated, carefully crafted food, comforting, homey dishes, a warm, welcoming atmosphere, and prices that mean this really can become a neighborhood local. 

Sunken Hundred, 276 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY 11231

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Marzipan & Sea Salt Mandel Bread

With advent calendars being opened every morning, a scarf wrapped round my neck every single day, and the evenings getting more and more depressingly dark, it's high time to embrace the holiday festivities. Whether this means Champagne and party dresses, mulled wine and mince pies, or bobble hats and blankets is up to you... But to me, it means an imminent trip home, hiding inside with a glass of wine every evening, and an endless supply of biscuits. Or cookies. Depending on what side of the ocean you're on. And Molly Yeh's mandel bread is just the ticket.

This biscotti-style treat is filled with chunks of marzipan and dark chocolate, sprinkled with sea salt, and cooked until crisp, with the slightest hint of softness in the center. Obviously brightly colored sprinkles are optional, unless you're me. And as an extra incentive to get in the kitchen, these sweet treats would make the best gift, whether it's for your host, your sister, or a little thank you to yourself. Let's get baking!

You can find the recipe here. And if you haven't got Molly Yeh's book yet, add it to your Christmas list now.

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Grand Army Bar

Grand Army Bar was one of the places on my New York summer bucket list that never got crossed off. So rather than going on a warm summer's night, where the windows are wide open, and cocktails are served in ceramic pineapples, we instead went on a cold November evening, where pineapples are swapped for elegant glasses filled with serious, smoky cocktails, and a roaring fire warms the room.

We sat at the oyster bar (despite skipping the oysters) and ordered one Smoking Gun for B (because he knows how to order a drink) and one Pineapple Primary for me (because I can't quite accept that it's winter yet). The Smoking Gun was as serious, smoky, and soothing as a drink made up of aged rum, pot still black rum, toasted cinnamon, whisky, and bitters should be. This is what I intend to sip by the fire all winter long. I just need to find a fire. And while the Pineapple Primary was initially disappointing due to the lack of pineapple serving vessel, it's fresh, slightly spiced, citrus-sour flavors more than made up for it. More fruity cocktails need to be topped with pepper tincture and pink peppercorns. We sipped our way to the bottom of the glasses, debated having another, and, it being the day after Thanksgiving, decided against it. A healthy, turkey-free dinner at home and early night beckoned.

Grand Army Bar, 366 State St, Brooklyn, NY 11217

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The Long Island Bar

"How come it took you over a year to visit one of the best, most highly-praised, most talked about bars in the city, which is only 5 blocks from your apartment?", is a question I'll never have a good answer to. "We never had the right occasion." Not true. "We didn't have any money." True, but that didn't stop us going out for a drink every now and again. "It never felt like the right time." Probably the closest. But in reality, there is no good answer. Sometimes, things just slip further and further down the must-do list until days turn into weeks turn into months turn into years. But finally, with the excuse of celebrating the final day at what was a less-than-happy job, we stepped foot inside The Long Island bar for the first time.

At 6pm on a Friday, we were (stupidly, in hindsight) concerned we may be the only people there. But it was already packed, so we grabbed one of the last booths and snuggled up in the warm, buzzing, welcoming, retro bar, packed with happy weekend-ing locals. 

We stuck with the classics (or twists on them), and spent the evening sipping on two totally perfect, wonderful examples of how fantastic cocktails can be (without being colorful, pretentious, or ridiculously over-priced). A white Negroni sbagliato for me and a whiskey soda with a shiso leaf  for B. They were both serious, but not too intimidatingly so, both balanced, both strong, and both capable of convincing us that we need to spend more time drinking fancy cocktails, especially on a Friday night at the Long Island Bar.

The Long Island Bar, 110 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11201

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al di la Trattoria

After many, many job applications, long periods of deep, dark silence, a handful of responses, some inspiring networking and meetings, challenging interviews, and finally an offer from the loveliest people working at a soup-er (sorry) wonderful company, we had some relieved 'I found a new job!' celebrating to do. Our initial idea was to follow our normal celebratory routine and head down the block to Rucola, but this excuse for fancier-than-normal meal out seemed too good to not pay a visit to al di la Trattoria, which has been sitting on my list of restaurants to visit for quite a while.

We walked up through Park Slope, planning, discussing, and jumping with excitement about my future life, until we reached the warm, cozy, vaguely disheveled (in a beautiful, European, curated way) restaurant. The specials were recited to us by our quietly charming waiter while we sipped on satisfyingly sizable glasses of Prosecco.

al di la was filled with a refreshing mixture of people. From local Park Slope families, to a very small birthday celebration, to one man sitting alone, quickly slurping through his giant plate of spaghetti, to couples young and old, to joyful groups of friends, everyone from all over the neighborhood was here with the joint mission of seek out some comforting Italian food, perhaps a glass (or two) of wine, and a couple of hours away from home.

We began with a grilled sardine (B is currently obsessed thanks to this tinned sardine experience in the summer) served on some fresh arugula, and a citrusy cavolo nero salad filled with giant croutons, huge shavings of Parmigiano, and a salty anchovy vinaigrette.

After being told we were over-ordering when we initially asked for two pastas, we reeled our pasta-obsession in to have only the tortelli di zucca. I love tortelli di zucca. If I could just eat one dinner for the whole of autumn, it would be this. Delicate parcels of pasta had been filled with sweet pumpkin and creamy mascarpone, and topped with crispy sage and grated parmesan. Pasta is the best.

But we weren't done yet. Next was the day's special which was genuinely all of B's favorite things on one plate. Creamy polenta formed the base, a glazed pork chop sat on top, and buttery Brussels sprouts, more Parmigiano, and a sprinkling of parsley were scattered over the whole plate. It was rich, fatty, salty, crispy here, super soft there, and a perfect example of how polenta really can be wonderful if it's made with enough butter and cheese.

We skipped on dessert (there was still funfetti cake at home), finished off the last few sips of Primitivo, and meandered home through the friendly streets of Park Slope.

al di la Trattoria, 248 5th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11215

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Mansoura

A trip to Mansoura sat on my list of things do for the entire summer. It's not that we didn't think about going every weekend, but they're not open on Saturdays, and they're closed every Sunday in July and August, so for us working folk, with terrible amounts of vacation time (nope, I still haven't got used to that!), we weren't going to make it until summer was over. And now that summer really is over, we finally hopped on our bikes, and cycled down Ocean Parkway to Gravesend.

If you didn't know what you were looking for, you could all to easily walk past the storefront which sits on traffic-filled Kings Highway. But when you step inside, and see the lines, rows, boxes, fridges, and sheets filled with baklava, chocolates, candied fruits, and praline, you know you've found something special. The friendly brothers who run the store will likely be working behind the counter, you'll be able to peak into the kitchens to discover they really do make all that they sell in this one space, and when you ask what they recommend you get one simple response: 'Everything'.

As you go round the shop, peering into boxes of chocolate-coated candied fruit and trays of freshly made, super sticky baklava, looking to see what jeweled pistachio treats are hiding away on the back of the counter, and not-so-gradually filling up your chosen (inevitably too small) size of box, you'll pick up snippets of information from either Jack or David. These two young brothers run the store, and bake everything they sell, having taken over from their parents a few years ago. They'll proudly  explain that they've been selling pastries in this exact spot for over 60 years (at least double their lifetime), and that the almond roll baklava is particularly good, and that I should make sure to tag them in my Instagram photos. 

Having now eaten my way through almost everything we bought, I can confirm that, unsurprisingly, as we were told, everything is the best. All the sweets are made with honey rather than glucose, it's all made by the brothers themselves, and they follow recipes and make the same sweets that their family started making 200 years ago, when they first opened a pastry shop in Aleppo. Since that time  the family have gradually moved across the world, baking all the way, until they arrived in Gravesend in 1961. Lucky for us, they've stayed. And if you live in New York, you should definitely go and visit. The stunning food culture in this city, the hidden gems which you need to seek out, will never cease to inspire and amaze me.

Mansoura, 515 Kings Highway, Brooklyn NY 11223

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Emily

When there are friends visiting from out of town another country, we always do our best, as resident Brooklyners, to give them a glimpse into our lives, and show them the places where we love to eat, see, play, and drink. As much as we love a fancy, white tablecloth dinner every now and again, that's not really how we live week-to-week: A night out eating pizza and ice cream is much more typical of our totally healthy, nutritious lifestyle.

For some reason we thought that the line at Emily on a Friday night wouldn't be as bad as the line at Roberta's. I have no idea how we came to this conclusion, but we did. Thankfully, we probably turned out to be right, but not because the line was shorter (there was a 2 hour wait when we arrived), but because some less dedicated pizza addicts cancelled their spot, and we snagged their table.

We gathered everyone together, rushed back from a suddenly cut-short drink at Hot Bird, and were led through the packed tables of this cozy restaurant to a hidden table which was essential in the kitchen aka the best spot in the house. And when I say in the kitchen, I'm not exaggerating: We were so close to that pizza oven that the lovely hostess had to give us a mini spiel (like the one you get when you're sitting in the emergency exit seats on an airplane), about being careful when we stand up, watching out for the handle of the pizza peel which would be jolting back and forth in our direction for the entire evening. If it had been the height of summer, this table may have proved to be a sweaty struggle, but on a crisp October night, this table was the best in the house, especially for four inquisitive, ever hungry cooks and eaters like us. 

Chicken wings and red wine kicked everything off to the tastiest start. The wings were coated in gochujang, served with the thinnest slices of radish, and a mini container of ranch. Extra paper napkins (I'm assuming a hint that we should pretty please not wipe our stained sticky fingers all over the linen ones) and hand wipes were set down too – a sign that these wings were going to be as spicy, sweet, and moreish as we had hoped.

Between us, we ate our way through several pizzas, sharing slices, comparing tasting notes, and declaring each of them amazing. Emily's pizza crusts are wonderfully different from what you'll find in a classic New York 'pie'. They're thin, charred from the wood oven, crisp bottomed, and only slightly puffed, which I think in my heart of hearts I may actually prefer to the doughy, thick Neapolitan style. And not just because it means I can fit more slices into my tummy before I reach explosion point. The Green Esquelto (mozzarella, cotija, zucchini, charred corn, and pepita mayo) was a combination of all the Mexican flavors you can hope for from the freshest, best tacos, but transformed into a spicy, crispy pizza. The daily special (mozzarella, tillage, figs, honey, basil, chile sauce) was sweet, fruity, intensely cheesy, and with a tiny little kick. The Modern (double sauce, double pecorino, herbs, garlic, basil, onion, Szechuan oil, plus pepperoni, because S knows how to order) was perhaps, if we had to choose, the best of the bunch: Everything you crave from a pizza, by which we mean sweet tomato sauce, plenty of melty cheese, a tiny bit of spice, and some perfect, crisp meatiness from the all-star pepperoni. And last but not least was the Luca (sauce, burrata, basil). It sounds so simple, and it was, but it was also a perfect example of a classic: Yes please to dollops of burrata splattered on every pizza I eat from hereon out. Thank you Emily. We'll be back. And we're happy to wait however many hours it takes to eat anything that comes out your pizza oven.

We were all groaning with full pizza bellies, but, being me, I suggested a late night ice cream dessert. And with Ample Hills only a five-minute walk away, and visitors to entertain, you won't be surprised to know that that's where we ended up spending the rest of the night.

Emily, 919 Fulton St, Brooklyn, NY 11238

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Van Leeuwen Ice Cream

I have no idea how I have been living in my basement Brooklyn apartment for over a year now, and I haven’t told you all about one of the best things about it. There’s no doubt that when we were cluelessly walking the streets of Brooklyn last August, searching for an apartment, our decision to settle on the one we did was largely due to its insane proximity to both Blue Bottle Coffee, and Van Leeuwen Ice Cream. Since moving in last September we have undoubtedly made the most (well the most that our budget will allow) of our two nearby food hot spots.

Van Leeuwen began, as all hipster New York food companies seem to do, as a food truck roaming the streets of Brooklyn, back in 2008. This business has now become what they describe as a ‘mini empire’ of bricks and mortar ice cream shops (with an emphasis on exposed bricks, because, well, Brooklyn), in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and even all the way over in LA. But unlike many food businesses who expand so far, the quality of these ice creams is still tip top. And although I wasn’t here in 2008 to taste the food truck original, the product can’t have deteriorated at all, because the product today is still perfection.

Unlike the wonderfully over the top, ingredient-stuffed, creative, wacky flavors found at our other favorite ice cream stop, Ample Hills, Van Leeuwen focuses on quality and simplicity. Their permanent menu (the specials, which change almost daily, are often slightly more bonkers, ranging from fluffer nutter, to matcha, to s’mores, to vegan boysenberry shortcake) focuses on the classics, in both dairy-full and vegan, dairy-free versions. Chocolate, mint chip, ginger, vanilla, salted caramel, cookie dough, pistachio, and strawberry are available year round, and we’ve pretty much tried them all. And we are more than happy to repeatedly try them all at least once a week, for the entire year, every year. Obviously in the winter the scoops will need to be topped with a splodge of hot chocolate fudge sauce.

I’m normally fairly skeptical of vegan-takes on totally non-vegan food products, but Van Leeuwen’s ice cream has totally destroyed that view. They’ve not got their vegan ice cream to its top ice cream spot status by just swapping the regular milk and cream for a soy equivalent. Instead they’ve actually thought and tested and carefully considered how to go about making vegan ice cream which tastes wonderful, has a beautiful texture, and doesn't make you feel ill. And in my opinion, many of their vegan ice creams are even better than the non-vegan ones.  Creamy, silky coconut milk seems to create a perfect ice cream base, especially when it’s dotted with vegan cookie dough, and eaten alongside a scoop of totally non-vegan spicy ginger ice cream. Hopefully this all goes some way to explain why Van Leeuwen is a weekly (and in the heat of summer, daily) splurge we religiously treat ourselves to.

Van Leeuwen, 81 Bergen Street, Brooklyn, NY 11201 

P.S. Most of their locations are open from seven in the morning until midnight. It’s never too early or late for ice cream.

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B'klyn Burro

Compared to London, New York is a Mexican food haven. If you look hard enough you can find spectacular bursting burritos, freshly made tacos, perfectly smashed guacamole, bracing margaritas, and sweet agua frescas. In London, no matter how hard you search, the Mexican food scene just isn't going to revolutionise your life, although it may satisfy your cravings for black beans and avocado every once in a while. However, in this here huge place called the United States, New York Mexican food is deemed to be infinitely inferior to that which you can find on the other, sunnier coast. 

However, it seems that a small slice of that Californian-take on Mexican food has found its way to Brooklyn. B'klyn Burro has spent a few years floating around serving up over-flowing burritos in bars and out of other restaurant kitchens, and now finally has its own sunny, colorful, tiny little space in Clinton Hill. In the heat of Brooklyn summer, having a small slice of San Fran's Mission district 15 minutes from my front door is hugely appreciated. As long as you're willing to wait (making tacos to order takes time you guys), you'll eventually be served burritos and tacos better than anything I've ever tried in London or in NYC. I imagine this makes them close to the quality you'd get over on the other side of this vast country.

We snacked on tortilla chips while we waited for them to wrap up B's carnitas burrito and to hand press the corn tortillas for my tacos. The burrito was as huge as a hungry runner wants a burrito to be. Its warm filling was perfectly tucked into the wrap, and the slow-cooked pork, rice, beans, and salsa muddled together to create one comforting mouthful after another. The tacos, stuffed with avocado, deep-fried poblano peppers, cilantro, and salsa were so super fresh, grease-free, and light: a wonderful blend of crisp and soft, spicy and soothing. If this is what my diet would consist of  on the West coast (as I had suspected may well be the case), we need to move ourselves over there ASAP.

B'klyn Burro, 922 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, NY 11238.

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Ferdinando's Focacceria

To celebrate a year since we moved from Haggerston to Boerum Hill, we spent a weekend being tourists in our local neighborhoods. Which really means we spent two days stuffing our faces. Our first stop was in the Italian streets of Carroll Gardens, at Ferdinando's Focacceria.

We were held back at the door as elderly (and obviously Italian) Alfredo and his wife had arrived at the same time as us, and their table was ready and waiting for them, so they were ushered in with the utmost courtesy and respect, while they motioned at us to wait to one side. Once that welcome serenade was over (this neighborhood is run by deeply-rooted family relationships, arguments, businesses, disputes, money, and friendships), we were acknowledged with a nod of the head, and once some tables had been rearranged for another  Italian family of nine, they found two seats for us in the corner. 

Stepping into Ferdinando's Foacceria is almost a culture shock. Walking through that door from Brooklyn sidewalk into Sicilian weekend lunchtime is likely the closest I'll ever get to being able to teleport. We were rapidly presented with menus, drinks came flying towards us, and we tried to quickly figure out what on the menu we could stand to skip.

Crispy, light, freshly deep-fried panelle with a huge splodge of ricotta and a scattering of sprinkled cheese will forever by one of my all time favorite accompaniments to a cold glass of wine on a hot summer's day.

We couldn't go somewhere Sicilian and not order arancini (or, more correctly, one giant arancina). Because, well, arancini are perhaps one of the best food inventions ever. And at Ferdinando's they're ginormous and stuffed full of meat and peas and covered in tomato sauce and cheese and... well... as you can see, it was fab. When we'd wiped those plates clean we realized we had definitely over-ordered.

Pasta con sarde followed. A giant bowl of bucatini topped with smoky, lightly spiced, subtly sweet sardine and tomato sauce, which was wonderfully slurpy and messy and made me massively regret my decision to wear white. 

And, just in case that wasn't enough, we'd also ordered a meatball parm roll. We didn't want to miss out. Rich meatballs, covered in sweet tomato sauce, melting cheese, and tucked in a fluffy bun are always welcomed, no matter how severe the food coma that follows.

Ferdinando's Focacceria, 151 Union Street, Brooklyn, NY 11231. Cash Only.

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