Rubulad

Rubulad
338 Flushing Ave
(between Classon Ave & Taaffe Pl)
Brooklyn, NY 11205

Anyone who's read Jeff Stark's nonsensenyc list knows about the underground Brooklyn warehouse parties that go on each week. The parties usually are remotely located in far-flung stretches of Brooklyn, primarily to avoid the attention of law enforcement. Some of these parties are truly magical, providing a welcome diversion to the models-and-bottles, bros-and-hos driven Manhattan club scene; others are dirty-hipster/art-school hot messes, poorly organized, shoddily executed, and borderline dangerous.

Rubulad falls into the latter-category. Located in the middle of nowhere (25 minute walk from the Graham L stop, exactly), this warehouse party was a two-floor industrial loft next to a truck depot. Ascended by a narrow, dimly-lit staircase, the entire party had a DIY-feel, but like a Home Depot project gone wrong. Various art installations and graffiti randomly decorated the walls. Makeshift bathrooms were installed within the apartment, with the faint smell of sewage permeating the room. Crowd control was negligible, with patrons spilling unsafely onto the neighboring rooftops.

Rubulad's dance party had two dance floors: one with a live band crammed into the corner of the room and the other, an outdoor tent spinning some Girl-Talk inspired laptronica. The indoor space felt like a sauna, on account of the sweaty, teeming bodies crowded inside and the lack of cross-ventilation. The outdoor tent was perched on the adjacent loft's rooftop, which became difficult to move around as more people came into party. None of the music made me feel like dancing, unfortunately.

There are other safer and better organized parties in Brooklyn: The Rub's monthly party @ Southpaw, Questlove's Thursday residency at Brooklyn Bowl, and the occasional themed blowouts by the Gemini and Scorpio team.

Karczma

Karczma
136 Greenpoint Ave
(between Franklin St & Manhattan Ave)
Brooklyn, NY 11222

I can only express my fondness for Karzcma in troikas: Meat, starch, lard; Zywiec, drinking, debauchery.

The restaurant will not be remembered for its Michelin-level cuisine, but just like death and taxes, you can certainly count on several things: the meal will be solid, definitely coma-inducing, and a considerable value for the ridiculous amount of food that you were too pussy to finish.

When in Warsaw (or Greenpoint), eat pierogies. They come with potato and cheese, beef, and mushrooms fillings. Be a smart Pollock and 1) order all three; and 2) order them fried: the combination of beef lard, crispy starch, and hearty fillings are a perfect complement to the Zywiec Light and Porter on tap. Don't skip on the hunter's bacon either: thick and slab-like, it's about a third of the price of Peter Luger's famous bacon side, but just as porky and unctuous.

Don't wuss out and make sure to accompany that side of bacon with a grilled meat platter for two. Like Sir Mix-a-Lot's odes to booties, it's large and in charge, and simply difficult to get one's hand around. Kielbasa, bacon, pork chops, and blood sausage make appearances, along with slices of grilled chicken and salmon. Along with the BBQ, horseradish, and garlic sauces on your plate, it's a veritable Atkins Revolution on a hot plate. The grilled plate comes with a side of roasted, gar-licked potatoes and sauerkraut with mushrooms gratis; both of these are small meals in themselves.

Beside the $3.50 Zyweic on Thursday from 5-9pm, the mise en scene at Karzcma never disappoints. Waitresses with peasant dresses and orange Day-glo tans, Polish hipsters with retro mullets, and Zywiec-induced stupors from bar patrons: they are all part of the whimsy that has made Karczma one of my underground favorites for the past several years.