I don’t even know where to begin reviewing a place like Northeast Kingdom. For me it’s like reviewing my country — though have I even been to Michigan or Oklahoma or Oregon or Idaho or Arkansas or 40 other states? No. But I have had foie gras and corned brisket and artisan cheeses and pickled beets and Chimay Rouge and dozens of other house-defining items at NEK. So I would say that my favorite neighborhood restaurant, in most ways, is far more important to me than my country.

Northeast Kingdom is homey and comfortable. In the afternoon, bright and cheery and in the evening, dim and elegant; NEK’s muted patterns and textures, mountain-chic decor, and rustic details complement the New American, “hipster homestyle” cuisine. Back in the day it had communal tables, but they have since been replaced by standard tables — the old ones were space hogs and it had begun to be a crush to get a seat any night of the week. Even with the new arrangement, it can still be difficult to get a seat without waiting; the bar is sometimes two people deep.

I have eaten there at least 50 times in the past year and a half for brunch, dinner, or even just bar snacks. At brunch, the only thing that can take me away from my beloved croque monsieur — full of thick slabs of chewy, salty bacon and topped with a perfect béchamel — is when I order the French toast: long, sugary slices of crusty wheat bread with just enough custard to thicken it up without leaving it sopping, and fresh seasonal fruit on the side. At Northeast Kingdom, they only have real maple syrup, something I can’t believe is not at least an option everywhere. No Aunt Jemima slime here.

At dinner, though I am usually a meat man, I can’t resist the ploughman’s salad: greens tossed in a light dressing served with a hunk of cheddar; a hard-boiled egg; sliced, pickled beets; and the most mouth-watering house-made pickled veggie chutney ever, and long pieces of baguette topped with slices of extra-creamy butter. Other items my friends and I have eaten and loved have been buttery-briny mussels, tangy corned veal, tender skate with olives, and what Luis calls the best fish and chips he’s ever had — better than authentic English A Salt and Battery in the West Village.

Recently, the gang went back with an unusual request for our waiter, Ryan: bring us some of the best stuff from the kitchen, whether specials or menu items. He was taken aback at first, but after consulting with the manager, he worked out a plan. We sat drinking and talking for a bit, and in no time plates began to appear before us.

The first was the goat cheese croquet — a disk of fried chèvre atop a pile of red and golden beets on one side, and marinated cucumbers on the other. Not much to it, right? But as a starter, it was just what we needed to open our palates — split 5 ways, it was the perfect amuse bouche. Then came the portobello mushroom carpaccio, which was far better than I would have imagined. Outside of salads, I rarely order dishes that do not have meat in them (and even then…), but the mushrooms were so meaty and earthy and chewy — pretty substantial, and held their own with the salty Garrotxa cheese, hazelnuts, and arugula.

The star of the show was the flawlessly cooked pork loin with super sweet fig chutney, potatoes mashed with bacon and sauteed spinach, and pencil-thin roasted asparagus. We all agreed that we’d leave our respective significant others to be one with the crispy, melty, herby fat attached to each bite of the surprisingly tender meat.

Runner-up was the hanger steak satay with peanut sauce, with perfect blackened caramelized edges that gave way to medium-done meat. The sauce wasn’t overpoweringly peanuty, though Jessica actually thought the meat was so good it didn’t even need the sauce.

Other delicious dishes we had were crispy, peppery duck confit with an inside so soft it was nearly spreadable; strong-flavored flaky smoked salmon; spiced lamb sausage on top of a barely-set square of polenta; and the frisee Farmer’s salad, with goat cheese, beets, potatoes, and yellow tomatoes tossed in the house dressing.

For dessert, I went with my old standby: homemade banana cream pie, which is just inconsistent enough to always be a surprise. After our night of gluttony, each of us could just barely muster a single bite.

Northeast Kingdom was a wonderful place far before competition would have forced it to be. At brunch, neighbors wave across the dining room. At night, you can have a romantic dinner, get plastered with your friends at the beautiful wooden bar manned by cocktail experts, or party your ass off in the basement lounge. This diminutive space in Bushwick’s industrial fringe represents everything creative and cultured and attractive and delicious about our community — New York City’s avant garde of cool. For these and many other reasons, Northeast Kingdom is the capital of us.

Northeast Kingdom
18 Wyckoff Avenue | 718-386-3864
Sun-Wed 5-11pm, Thu-Sat 5-11:30, Sat-Sun brunch 11am-3pm
bar and lounge until 2am

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