We almost walked past Sam’s. The faded
yellow sign with red letters that spell Coffee Sho (the p’s been
missing for years), and the hand-painted gold "Sam’s"
on the front window promised a diner.
But young locals sat outside, rocking sleeping babies in carriages
and drinking wine. Glancing through the window we spotted signs
advertising meatball heroes and tuna fish sandwiches for $4.50.
But inside, customers sat around the six mismatched tables eating
seafood stews and slicing into rare steaks. And the aroma: meat
grilling, fish simmering, bread warming – no coffee shop ever
smelled that good.
Sam’s, soon to be renamed Sammy’s Brooklyn, is a humble diner
by day, ambitious bistro by night. For the past 13 years owner
and chef Sarwat Samir (who adopted the moniker Sammy after one
too many customers called him "So what?") has kept
the staffs of nearby Long Island College Hospital and the Cobble
Hill Nursing Home fed and caffeinated.
Three months ago, Kevin Moore, a caterer and former restaurateur,
persuaded Samir to extend his hours through dinner. (Neil Ganic,
the former owner of La Bouillabaisse on Atlantic Avenue, has
signed on as a short-term consultant, hence the seafood-heavy
menu.)
Moore and Samir gave the space a much-needed makeover, ripping
out the long deli counter and covering the dark walls with light-colored
paneling. The space still retains a bit of its scruffy Cinderella-before-the-glass-slipper
feeling – the floor is linoleum and the paneling has a Little
Italy social club ambience. Yet few places possess the quirky
charm of Sammy’s Brooklyn, and fewer kitchens send out the kind
of assured dishes that are becoming the bistro’s trademark.
The B.Y.O.B and $3 corking fee are two more reasons to recommend
it.
Sammy’s Brooklyn continues to act as a diner Mondays through
Saturdays, from 6 am until 3 pm. Then, after the ketchup and
hot sauce bottles are stashed in the kitchen, the candy rack
is covered with a shelf, and the lights dim, dinner at Sammy’s
Brooklyn begins.
The menu on the blackboard was propped up on a chair near my
table. I watched as an appetizer of wild mushroom salad was carried
past, perfuming the air around us, followed by a plate of goat
cheese crowned with deep red, summer tomatoes. We settled on
two seafood appetizers: a sublime crab cake and sprightly tuna
carpaccio.
Moore’s crab cake is exactly what a crab cake should be: a loosely
bound disc the size of a saucer, heavy on the crab and unadulterated
with diced peppers. The appetizer is lightly seared until crusty
on the outside. Minus the breading and heavy seasoning, I could
savor the fresh, clean taste of the crabmeat. A simple salad
of mixed lettuces and a slice of lemon were the crab’s only plate-mates.
Chefs can learn something from Moore’s under-adorned presentations.
A tuna carpaccio, another starter too often fussed with in bistros,
began with a base of two large, thin slices of mild, raw tuna.
Over the top of the fish was drizzled a bit of olive oil and
lemon juice and then a few capers sprinkled on top with chopped
red onion.
Small mounds of tartly dressed, tender young greens sat near
the fish. The dish was a celebration of fine ingredients.
Just back from a vacation in Maine, the fish entrees were reminiscent
of the kind of homey New England-style cooking I enjoyed up North
– but with more finesse. An oyster stew held plump, tender oysters
in a light, briny sauce touched with cream. A couple of wedges
of tomato sweetened the broth; a handful of spinach and a few
strands of pasta adding a nutty taste and soft texture. Slivers
of fresh ginger gave the dish crunch and heat.
A seafood cioppino held its own next to the oyster stew. Sweet
halves of large sea scallops, mussels and shrimp were enhanced
with a light, wine-laced broth. A bit of fresh dill added a herbaceous
note. Aromas of the fish cooking were the inspiration for my
all-seafood meal, but there are a few meat dishes on the menu
– like grilled pork loin and a crisp-skinned grilled chicken
breast – that made other diners happy. The man dining across
from us sighed over his rare filet mignon and offered forkfuls
of mashed potatoes to his friends.
"It’s great," he murmured more than once during dinner.
Moore delivered the chocolate pate dessert, then lingered near
our table waiting for our reaction. Chocolate pates, or any heavy,
dense chocolate dessert usually leave me cold – too one-dimensional
– but this pate was something special. Made with bittersweet
chocolate, it had a tart, almost winy edge. On the plate, the
pate resembled a thin slice of coal, but instead of a dead weight
in the mouth, it was silky. A scattering of crushed pistachio
nuts added a welcome diversion from the creaminess.
The heavy crust on a pedestrian peach tart was the meal’s only
disappointment.
If I haven’t convinced you that a trip to Sammy’s Brooklyn would
be worth your time and money then allow me to mention Barbara.
The bistro’s lone waitress, Barbara speaks in a voice so soft
that diners lean in to hear her. She waits until a customer tastes
their dish before asking if they’re enjoying it, and deposits
a slice of lemon, or a fresh napkin on the table before anyone
asks. Cafe owners tell me that finding friendly, but not overly
effusive, waitstaff who know how to cater to their clientele
is hell. If that’s the case, then a bidding war over Barbara
should be breaking out right now.
My advice: Go to Sammy’s Brooklyn while it’s still the cute little
place beloved by a few. Waiting for a table is such a drag.
Sammy’s Brooklyn (391 Henry St. between
Congress and Warren streets in Cobble Hill) accepts cash only.
Dinner entrees: $11.95-$13.95. No reservations accepted. For
information, call (718) 625-8150.
