Few restaurants may be more fit for a Tibi Eats in December than Pitt’s. You’ll find the cozy, North Carolinian Triangle-influenced bistrot on the cozy corner of Van Brunt and Wolcott in Red Hook, Brooklyn, just a few steps down from the famed Red Hook Tavern (which I only mention because if not for its crazy popularity, we would not have made the audible over to Pitt’s).
I say cozy twice, and now a third time so as to emphasize my purposeful redundancy - it is the adjective most apt in conveying the feeling of dining at Pitt’s. In a world of consistently sterile, minimalistic, white and grey, AI-generated interiors and restaurant concepts, Pitt’s offers a refreshing reprieve from the loss of character, warmth, and human touch that has plagued our culture for the last decade and may very well continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
Upon entering the Pitt’s emblazoned, sapele mahogany wood door, you are immediately immersed in an alternate reality, one that is caked with a déjà-vu-like nostalgia. It’s not quite your grandmother’s home, and not quite your favorite French bistrot, but somewhere betwixt the snug and restful two. Pitt’s has two seating areas: the foyer/bar area is decorated with diner-style, button-tufted red booths, a handful of intimate tables set along the cafe-curtain lined, street facing windows, and a select few stools for seating at the bar. In the rear, the main dining room is characterized by a brilliantly cohesive Arts & Crafts style wallpaper, a continuation of that magical booth manner of seating, and slightly dimmed, burnt-orange hued lighting.
We attempted to cover a range of bases through our selection from the perfectly sized, serif-typed, and checkerboard bordered menu. A Gouda Pimento & Fried Saltines that felt wrong and indulgent at first glance, and yet is everything but. A Cold Roasted Grape Salad that provided a wonderful and integral palate cleanse in between the Fried Catfish Over Pickled Green Tomato Tartar and the Lamb Burger, which is worth noting most principally for the way its symphony of flavor is conducted. This is a unique burger wherein the flat-top toasted Stone & Skillet English muffin bun is the frontman. And where the lamb, raclette, and comeback sauce, typically known as the focus of such a dish, instead offer a bold compliment akin to Flea’s bass on The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie.
The moral of the story here is that yes, food is important, and without true quality a restaurant is nothing. But close to, if not equally as important to a dining experience is the ambiance and culture of a restaurant and its team. Just as the food can be tasted, the atmosphere can be felt, and when the latter is strong, it accentuates the satisfactory qualities of the former while simultaneously diminishing the negatives. Give Pitt’s a visit for the creative takes on southern dishes, but ultimately stay for the way the place makes you feel - that intangible gold that only so many locales have, and that can only be known by simply, just, knowing.
Sold!!!