For this Monday’s adventure, we planned a simple trip to Woodside, Queens, to sample the much-revered burgers served at Donovan’s Pub. But as I ran a few errands around the neighborhood that morning, enjoying the warmest, most beautiful weather we’d had in months, the idea of spending the entire afternoon inside seemed grievously wasteful.

I called Meg. It’s so nice out; do you think we should save Donovan’s for some oppressively hot day at the height of summer when all that time in an air-conditioned subway car and a cool, dark bar would be a welcome respite? Sure!

After a little contemplation, we agreed on a trip to Red Hook. An isolated neighborhood along New York Harbor, Red Hook has no subway coverage and can be a bit of a journey by bus, but it’s only a 15- or 20-minute by bike from both of us. Aside from being just far away enough for a bike ride there and back to help assuage consumption-induced guilt, Red Hook is also just a pleasant place to visit and hang out: lots of quiet cobblestone streets lined with comely old warehouses and character-full residential buildings, always breezy and redolent of the sea – usually in a good way; one excellent grocery store, a few nice little bars, and, as we were about to sample, some pretty good grub.

Defonte’s Deli, a Red Hook establishment since 1922, was the first stop on our itinerary. Save for a few reports of blandness, we’d heard a lot of great things about this place, and we were anxious to finally try it.

We briefly debated the handful of sanctified sandwich combinations posted behind the counter. Then we ordered the Valentino – fried eggplant, roasted peppers, provolone cheese.

Sandwiches at Defonte’s can be ordered by the half or the third, both of which are massive. Ordering a whole sandwich is apparently not an option. I’m not sure why that is, but I like to imagine that it’s Defonte’s way of protecting its patrons from themselves. At any rate, with at least a couple of rounds of lunch on the docket, we ordered a third.

While our sandwich was being prepared, we perused the beverage offerings in the cooler. After briefly discussing the appeal of Manhattan Special (a local coffee soda that I’m for and Meg’s against) [Meg: I'm for it for you, doll, but I don't really drink coffee...], our sights lit upon a slight anomaly in the realm of sandwich-shop beverage offerings: Budweiser.

Minutes later, with a couple of cans of The King of Beers and our sandwich in hand, we headed deeper into the ‘hook, towards the water. At the end of one of the piers, we happened upon a few lawn chairs, and there we sat, in the sun, cool breezes ruffling our feathers as the harbor lapped at the rocks below.

In that setting, with those ice-cold beers, shit on a shingle might have made for a perfectly lovely lunch, but the stupefying perfection of our circumstances aside, I’m pretty certain that the Valentino was a fantastic sandwich. The toothsome eggplant – not too tough, not mushy – imparted a meaty quality to the sandwich, and, against all odds, its nutty, fried coating still maintained a nice little crunch here and there. The roasted peppers were flavorful and fresh-tasting and like the fried eggplant, perfectly textured. All things taken together, the Valentino was a tasty, messy delight.

For our second stop, we’d planned on going to Anselmo’s, a new coal-oven pizza joint.

Coal ovens are a rarity in the city. No longer legal to install, the few operating today are only allowed to do so because they were installed before they became illegal. Coal burns hotter than wood, so pizzas cook more quickly in coal ovens, which generally allows for thinner, crisper crusts. The story with Anselmo’s, as I’ve heard, goes something like this: some guys that operate a chemical shop nearby bought the building so they’d have a safe place away from their chemicals to take smoke breaks and hang out. When they discovered that the place housed an old coal oven, they realized they were sitting on something special, and decided to open a pizza joint to take advantage of their priceless find.

I had eaten at Anselmo’s twice before this outing with Meg. The first time had been delicious and exciting; the second had been less so (the crust was inexplicably flavorless and devoid of salt) but not so much so that I wasn’t enthusiastic about a third try. Meg was anxious to give it her first. Tyler and Gabe (chef-owner and sous chef of No. 7, respectively), who had just bought new bikes together that day and were looking for any excuse to ride, came out to join us [Meg: I wish I had some witty jab about them buying bikes together to insert here... but alas, they've lucked out.].

We ordered two large pies. One was Neapolitan – red sauce and fresh mozzarella – with pepperoni and mushrooms. The other was a white pie – ricotta and mozzarella – with basil pesto and artichokes. This time the crust was a touch under-salted but nonetheless quite nicely flavored with a perfect amount of char on the bottom and a crisp-chewy texture. The toppings were fresh, tasty (except for the flavorless mushrooms, which, despite my general affinity for funghi, are not worth the investment in this case) and liberally applied without suffocating the crust. The white-with-pesto combination is especially winning in my estimation.

After pizza, the boys headed back out to the water with us, where they goofed around on their bikes and chatted with us a bit before heading back inland. Meg and I stayed in Red Hook, making a quick trip to the aforementioned “excellent grocery store”, Fairway, to pick up a couple of odds and ends.

Though we were not at all hungry at this point, we both agreed that we could use a little something sweet, so we headed to Baked, a local bakery that supplies just about every specialty food shop and café in Brooklyn, and turns out often delicious (though not always) layer cakes, brownies, cookies and cupcakes. After a great deal of debate, we settled on the intriguing Brewer’s Bar to share.

Then we headed inland for the excellent 2-for-$5 happy hour at Bar Great Harry on Smith St. Exhausted, we ordered a couple pints of Yuengling and collapsed into a table near the open French doors along the sidewalk. We ate our Brewer’s Bar – a gooey blonde brownie, similar in texture to a cellophane-wrapped Kraft caramel, with a strange mealy mouth-feel and only the vaguest impression of malt or yeast – and sat at that table for hours, enjoying the breeze and eachother’s company, our day ending much like it had begun on the pier. Both of us were happy to have put Donovan’s off for another day.

xoxo Amanda

Defonte’s Deli/Sandwich Shop
379 Columbia St.
Brooklyn, NY 11231
(718) 625-8052

Anselmo’s Coal Oven Pizzeria
354 Van Brunt St. (at Sullivan St.)
Brooklyn, NY 11231
(718) 775-5386
http://www.anselmosbakery.com

Baked
359 Van Brunt St.
Brooklyn, NY 11231
718/222.0345
http://www.bakednyc.com

Tags: Beer, Brooklyn, pizza, Red Hook, Sandwiches

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