IT'S NOT SO much that I narrowly escaped losing my teeth to chomping down on this little guy as is was head-shaking to have found it where I did: buried in an order of Brooklyn Label french fries. And while it's far from the most unsanitary thing I could have found hiding my food, it's also, you know, a freaking wingnut in my french fries.
I've made four or five visits to Brooklyn Label (180 Franklin St, Greenpoint, Bklyn; 718-389-2806) over the past two moths, each to some degree of disappointment. There was the unlabeled, uneatable hot sauce. The tempeh ruben just isn't what it used to be. No more onion rings or mac n' cheese. The menu is half its previous size and scope. BL's brunch seems to still draw a sizable crowd, but I can't bring myself to pay for another halfhearted meal just to find out if its worth the trip.
The wignut fiasco has closed the door for me. I'm not refusing to eat there ever again, but I've no reason to seek it out. There are just too many other options around, ones that make the same stuff just as well, and certainly ones with kitchens that take the time to keep hardware out of the fries.
MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Probably not.
Note: Attempting to check the address for this post I stopped by BL's website. Yeah, when I talked about a 'halfhearted' effort, that's exactly what I was talking about. It's the little things, people.
Update, 7/23: BL has offered it apologies for the incident and weighed in on the website malfunction over on the comments page. I've also been informed that BL's new menu has been released, so despite my ambivalence, perhaps you should, in the words of the sage LaVar Burton, "don't take my word for it" and check out the new goods anyway.