Word of the Counting Room
is slowly making its way outside the borders of Bedford and Berry, down toward Brooklyn's bright(er) young things and over the bridges to Manhattanites, who, craving garden views, are growing weary of boxcar cocktail dens. The Counting Room may not have a garden, but it certainly has light and air and a dark corner or two if, indeed, you prefer a den. Upstairs, lovely high ceilings and smooth wooden communal tables beget a convivial brunch and dinner tableau composed of deviled eggs, truffled grilled cheeses and bottles of Prosecco. Save the slowly growing buzz of night sounds below, the descending staircase might be missed. But it shouldn't be, because there you'll find the cocktails. As the light slips behind this side of Williamsburg's industrial fabric you'll want the Vanishing Sun, a dark sweet tart mix based on rhum agricole, honey, lime and grapefruit. For the simpler evenings, a French Compromise might do (citrusy gin, lemon and bubbles) or just an iced down Allagash White. Simple or not, you'll need a pork sandwich alongside -- crusty, managebly messy and the best precursor to another cocktail. Or the white trash crÃ¨me brÃ»lÃ©e. Yes, there is something primally base and irresistible about Nilla wafers topped with banana pudding. But it's been caramelized into a glassy, golden brÃ»lÃ©e
, (and that's French) so you're still classy. We promise.The Counting Room
44 Berry St.