I had never given Brooklyn much thought beyond the odd walk over the bridge and into Dumbo. It never felt like my sort of place, so I happily stayed on the wrong side of the bridge, ignorant of the treasure that awaited me.
That all changed when my friend Zack invited me to Long Island Bar, nestled neatly between Brooklyn Heights and Cobble Hill. It’s hard to overstate the understated perfection of this place — flashy it is not.
That’s the beauty of it — it has the feel of a classic diner, with a long bar to the right running down the length of the room and booths to the left for those eating, separated by a low dividing wall which nicely keeps the drinkers from the diners. It has windows onto the street above a long tabletop and stools for you to sit and watch as middle-aged yuppies and their families pass by with strollers.
When you see the bar from across the street at dusk on an autumn evening, the moody interior lighting, art deco interior, those big wide windows and of course the vintage neon sign, you can’t help but feel like a Nighthawk.
The history of the bar is well documented — it was established in 1951 and despite a relatively recent change in ownership (revitalized in 2013 by the guys who incidentally invented the Cosmopolitan), it’s managed to grow old gracefully while still feeling current.
When here, order cocktails. They have a few good beers, and I’m sure there’s wine too, although I’ve never bothered to try any of it. The Cosmopolitan, it goes without saying (and not just because they invented it) is actually a perfect cocktail — sweet but tart, strong but smooth. They also make excellent Martinis and perfect Manhattans. If you prefer to avoid the classics and go for a “special” cocktail, you can do that too, although I have no idea why you would bother — you can’t beat what’s worked.
And while you’re here, you must order cheese curds. As a Brit, I’d never heard of them before I came here so have nothing to compare them against, but these hot, crunchy, salty, battered balls of cheese are the perfect pairing with an ice-cold martini.
Is it the best bar in Brooklyn? Certainly.
New York? I think so.
The world? I wouldn’t rule it out.
This article was originally published in The Spectator’s November 2023 World edition.