Happy Tues—oh, sh*t, it’s Friday.
This calls for a celebration.
You need painstakingly selected wines. You need duck à l’orange from an Eleven Madison Park alum. You need a calendar.
But about the first two...
Introducing Station, an antiqued-up gem of a fusion date spot in Williamsburg, now open for dinner and brunch.
You’re going to pick up an old-European-train-station vibe here. Which may be because it’s two steps away from the entrance to the Bedford L stop. And this being Williamsburg, the whole train thing is given a sort of handlebar-mustachioed old-timey-ness.
Gaze in through the French doors into the white-tiled, cherry-wooded dining area. Look, the kitchen is wide open. They even want you to talk with the chefs. Now stop gazing and enter. Yes, that was a 17th-century antique Columbia door handle on the entrance. Note how it opened the hell out of that door.
Now be seated. If yours is a post-work kind of get-together, pull up a two-top, preferably one next to an orchid (for mystery). Order up some African-chili mussels and getting-to-know-you peanut butter spinach. If it’s later—say, after 11pm and before 2am—grab a seat at the bar right up next to where the culinary magic is happening. You’re in the chef’s hands for the evening.
Actually, you’re in a chair. But you get it.
This calls for a celebration.
You need painstakingly selected wines. You need duck à l’orange from an Eleven Madison Park alum. You need a calendar.
But about the first two...
Introducing Station, an antiqued-up gem of a fusion date spot in Williamsburg, now open for dinner and brunch.
You’re going to pick up an old-European-train-station vibe here. Which may be because it’s two steps away from the entrance to the Bedford L stop. And this being Williamsburg, the whole train thing is given a sort of handlebar-mustachioed old-timey-ness.
Gaze in through the French doors into the white-tiled, cherry-wooded dining area. Look, the kitchen is wide open. They even want you to talk with the chefs. Now stop gazing and enter. Yes, that was a 17th-century antique Columbia door handle on the entrance. Note how it opened the hell out of that door.
Now be seated. If yours is a post-work kind of get-together, pull up a two-top, preferably one next to an orchid (for mystery). Order up some African-chili mussels and getting-to-know-you peanut butter spinach. If it’s later—say, after 11pm and before 2am—grab a seat at the bar right up next to where the culinary magic is happening. You’re in the chef’s hands for the evening.
Actually, you’re in a chair. But you get it.
