Remember when I told you how I sometimes eat meat? Well, today was one of those days. I was strolling down Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, taking the full scene in for the first time. This area of Brooklyn is notorious for its strictly hipster residents. If you don’t have tattoos or wear big boots or ride a bike or play the guitar or speak five languages, you are not allowed to live there according to The Williamsburg Code of Non-Conformity. (I’m sure it exists) Emphasis on the “non” because, even though everyone looks exactly the same in their hipness, anyone you talk to will deny coming even close to fitting in with anything. I walked past a man defending himself today: “I’m not even a bleeping hipster; I’m like, just a kid on a bike.” Right.
Well, whatever the people of Williamsburg do or don’t conform to, the eclectic mix of stores along Bedford Avenue is truly worth the confusion. Right next to your run-of-the-mill bodega, you might find an upscale oyster bar, or a record shop at which the staff likely knows everything about records ever. There’s the infamous Bedford Cheese Shop, just down the street from Whisk, the epicurean’s kitchen supply store from heaven.
And then there’s The Meatball Shop. People in New York rave about this place. I guess people anywhere rave about meatballs all the time. Meat-deprived and new-restaurant deprived as I was, I make an impromptu stop at The Shop and ordered the Kitchen Sink Meatballs with classic tomato sauce.
I’ll admit I’m a bigger fan of my own meatball recipe, but maybe I just ordered the wrong thing. Mine came with a salad and pickled veggies, but who orders healthy food to go with meatballs? I’m thinking the hoagie stuffed with meatballs, sauce, and the cheese of your choice–served piping hot–would have been a better choice. Next time. It’s going on my reverse bucket list. That is, as long as the hipster police allow me to grace Bedford Avenue with my non-hipster presence one more time…