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July 28, 2007
The word quaint is so overused. It's a cliché that reviewers tend to fall back on whenever they want to describe a cute or cozy or intimate place. Unfortunately, as I search my inner thesaurus for a better term, quaint is the only way I can describe Five Front (5 Front St, Brooklyn). This is a cute, cozy and intimate oasis perfectly out of place wedged under the mammoth bustling of the Brooklyn Bridge. I was here for the wedding of my friends Luis and Madeline. They chose Five Front for the charm of its inside the bar and dining area as well as the palm plant and tree-shaded garden out back. Perfectly suited for the rows of chairs during the short and sweet ceremony followed by small tables for folks to eat and drink. I of course decided to ditch the oppressive city humidity along with several other guests to eat inside. Luis and Madeline are an artistic couple—both being designers, photographers, illustrators, etc.—who created a special design used on the highly appreciated favors. Cold bottles of water and hand-held theatre fans. I lost my fan when I set it down on the bar to take some photos of the empty restaurant. The bartender picked up the fan saying, "Oh this is a great idea. Just what I needed," and proceeded to fan himself. But he was very alert when it came to increasing the size and strength of my cocktails as the day went on, so I didn't mind. After eating and back out in the garden we milled around talking and laughing, the heat no longer really seemed to bother anyone. Or we were just numb to it thanks to the fun, food, drink and Playstation Karaoke—that came with the wedding party, not the restaurant. Speaking of the food, everything was simply delicious. What would you call this food that was a mix of such a variety of flavors? New American? Well, I'm by no means a foodie so I'll leave it at it just tasted great and was served up by a very courteous staff. A place like Five Front allows you to forget that you're even in NYC, let alone underneath one of its major causeways. Standing in the somewhat quiet shade of the garden was way more relaxing than I had expected a place could be in this hybrid-sorta-industrial-neo-hip area. I peaked at the menu and the prices were very decent considering how good it all was. If you're sick of hearing about the stuff you can't afford to do in DUMBO these days, this place is worth the trip. Of course I think calling it DUMBO may be stretching it. Yes the Manhattan Bridge is very close by (DUMBO = Down Under the Manhattan Bridge), but this is under a completely different bridge. I know, I know, Stephen's picking nits again. But this happens whenever any neighborhood gets hot. Over the years I've seen parts of NYC change, expand and whatever else. Hell's Kitchen, for example, seems to get bigger every year. Perhaps one day this little slice will more correctly be called DUBBO. But in the end, what does a neighborhood's name matter really, so long as there are cool, affordable places to go once you get there? Links:
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