OUR REVIEW IS IN: Red hook lobster pound

A family with toddlers throws Goldfish crackers onto the pavement while a girl in vintage Doc Martens digs her claw cracker into a lemon wedge like she’s nonchalantly practicing a party trick. At the next table, a couple is eating oysters and splitting a lobster roll, talking quietly. This is not the Hamptons. It’s not trying to be. It’s Red Hook. You don’t end up here by accident. You take the ferry or walk the long stretch past Ikea and cracked concrete. By the time you hit Van Brunt, the city’s pace has slowed.

Inside Red Hook Lobster Pound, it’s glossy wooden tables and laminated menus. It’s the kind of place where you order fast and eat slow. The staff is laid back, unbothered, and probably working their fifth summer. They move with a rhythm that says: we’ve done this a thousand times. Contrast that with my big dumb face as I order. I always order at Red Hook Lobster Pound with the smile of someone who’s finally about to lose their virginity at 35 years old.

Anything that’s not a lobster roll is a stupid choice. Lobster without the roll just feels expensive and insecure. Who are you trying to impress? The only person you need to impress…is your demonstrative, Catholic, mother. What I believe you want and should get is the Maine-style roll. Cold, clean, sweet lobster with just enough mayo to gloss the edges. There’s huge chunks of lobster here - you’re getting your money’s worth. The bun is soft, buttery, and clearly kissed by a flat top. It’s a masterpiece, really. The hot roll is fine, and the lobster on that one comes poached in butter. If you’re going through something heavy in life, a divorce, premature balding, this is probably the more decadent and self-serving option. There’s a few other lobster roll, but I would stick to the classics. Although…the friend lobster roll where the lobster is tossed in caramel sauce and slathered in kewpie mayo…that’s a choice. I used to have a friend who would regularly lose one shoe and not the other. The fried lobster roll feels like a choice for people like that.

The interior is giving nautical, prison, chic. But that’s why we love it. My general life experience is such that any place that has a beautiful interior is going to over charge you and under serve you. I don’t want my lobster roll place to look like Martha Stewart lady jizzed all over the interior. I want it to look like 70 disgruntled male navy men used to sleep in bunk beds there.

Actually, you know what, who gives a shit about what is looks like? Red Hook Lobster Pound feels like a place that got it right the first time.

No one’s here to be seen. Everyone’s sunburned and happy and drinking Narragansett from a can. A guy in paint-splattered shorts walks in, kisses someone on the head, orders two rolls, and leaves without taking off his sunglasses. That’s the whole vibe.

Some places try to sell you a lifestyle. This one just gives you a meal, and the restful quiet that comes after it.