135 North 5th Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 302-5151

I was sitting in a Queens coffee shop this past hangman's day, listening to the slow melodies of Pink Floyd's entire Wall album humming from the speaker behind me when I got that feeling once again. I can't explain it, but I checked my Facebook suggestion box to find a recommendation for Egg. I've been looking for an excuse to eat in Brooklyn for a while and my girlfriendless self immediately called Bro. "Let's get dinner in Williamsburg." His enthusiastic reply of "Why?" was as good a yes as I was gonna get.

These days, restaurants get extra credit and a gold star sticker with a smiley face on their homework for using locally grown, sustainable sources of produce and milk. Egg, which owns its own six-acre farm in midstate NY, embodies this new trend towards quasi-green consumerism. It's a comfort food place, serving down home goodies like cornbread, biscuits, and fried chicken. A mix of Southern country bumpkin with Brooklyn urban chic.

Egg itself sits smack in the middle of hipster heaven. Restaurants, indie shops, and people way more cool than I am and with way more tattoos are everywhere like ants at a picnic. Decked out in the barest of essentials, Egg is a conscious rejection of style (which makes it a conscious version of style). The floors are painted concrete, the walls are bare, the food is served plainly and without flair. There isn't even a sign outside that says "Egg". The tables are simple and you sit on wooden "Terje" folding chairs from Ikea. It somewhat reminded me of eating in the dining hall of the the YMCA camp my junior high school would send us to every year.

Bro and I took a seat, ordered some Dogfish Head Raison d'Etre, and set about looking at the menu. While we pondered, a mug of hot boiled peanuts appeared in front of us instead of bread. I ate one and stopped. How anyone can eat this is beyond me. "I'll pay for your whole dinner if you finish the mug." I offered Bro. "No, " came the rebuke. "It's not worth it." We did, however, split an order of Hush Puppies as a starter, deep fried cornmeal balls with a horseradish dipping sauce. These were very good, but heavy.

Bro's entree was the Brunswick Stew. Chicken, pork, corn, lima beans, and tomato over a big honkin' piece o' cornbread. I'm not entirely sure how one goes about describing a stew (it was sufficiently moist?) but Bro and I both liked it. Cornbread made up the majority of that which was in the bowl, but it was good cornbread. I ordered the Fried Chicken, served with a biscuit and lima beans. Bro tried it and the first thing he said was "kicks the crap out of KFC." I want to agree, but I can't. Simply put, it was far far far too salty. Tender and flaky and perfectly prepared, but salty to the point where I didn't even bother finishing it. There's an episode of The Simpsons where Homer compliments Marge on her pork chops and she responds "the secret ingredient is salt". If the Colonel uses eleven herbs and spices, Egg uses Marge's secret ingredient.

For dessert, my pick was the Chocolate Chess Cake. This is basically a brownie in a pie shell. Very tasty, and because no one eats brownies without ice cream, two scoops of vanilla ice cream came with it. There was salt sprinkled on top (?) but this time the salt worked. Bro ordered the Key Lime Pie, which was one of the best key lime pies I've had in a while. In other words, it tasted real, as opposed to one of those fluorescent green things too many restaurants try to pass off as key lime. My only complaint was that it was a bit too sour, but that's where the coffee came. French-pressed coffee.

One small dish, two entrees, three beers, two desserts, two coffees, tax and tip was $86 even.

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