The bad news:
You never got around to opening that Russian-Jewish-Italian-ish restaurant you resolved to make happen in 2013. The people need their Russian-Jewish-Italian-ish food. You’ve heard their mournful cries.
The good news:
Yep, somebody did it for you, just under the wire.
Meet Ditmas Kitchen and Cocktails, a charming abode of (deep breath here) egg-topped corned beef tongue sandwiches and saffron-infused scotch, opening next Saturday at Pico and Robertson.
The place could double as a safe house for Keebler elves: it’s a stand-alone cottage of wooden shingles, wooden tables, wooden walls, wooden... everything. But really, it’s where Top Chef guy Alex Reznik wants to feed you mashed-up recipes from his Ditmas Park, Brooklyn, childhood, back when Bravo reality shows didn’t exist. Hard to process.
Anyway, you’ll want to call up some Gotham transplants and meet everybody at the side bar over an introductory round of scotch with saffron, mint and lime. Then take over the communal table stretching through the center—theoretically, that should give you enough room for all the plates of lamb belly carbonara, those egg-topped corned beef tongue sandwiches and (another deep breath here) coconut milk chicken meatballs.
Theoretically.
You never got around to opening that Russian-Jewish-Italian-ish restaurant you resolved to make happen in 2013. The people need their Russian-Jewish-Italian-ish food. You’ve heard their mournful cries.
The good news:
Yep, somebody did it for you, just under the wire.
Meet Ditmas Kitchen and Cocktails, a charming abode of (deep breath here) egg-topped corned beef tongue sandwiches and saffron-infused scotch, opening next Saturday at Pico and Robertson.
The place could double as a safe house for Keebler elves: it’s a stand-alone cottage of wooden shingles, wooden tables, wooden walls, wooden... everything. But really, it’s where Top Chef guy Alex Reznik wants to feed you mashed-up recipes from his Ditmas Park, Brooklyn, childhood, back when Bravo reality shows didn’t exist. Hard to process.
Anyway, you’ll want to call up some Gotham transplants and meet everybody at the side bar over an introductory round of scotch with saffron, mint and lime. Then take over the communal table stretching through the center—theoretically, that should give you enough room for all the plates of lamb belly carbonara, those egg-topped corned beef tongue sandwiches and (another deep breath here) coconut milk chicken meatballs.
Theoretically.
