Lomzyniaka ("Girl from Lomza,") is a tiny homestyle Polish restaurant on Manhattan Avenue in Brooklyn, a few blocks north of the parks at the border of Greenpoint and Williamsburg. It's BYOB, so pick up a couple of Zywiec beers at any of the nearby bodegas and let the good times flow. The setup inside is essentially that of a large downstairs living room in an old-style Brooklyn apartment turned into a restaurant, which is almost definitely what it is. The kitchen is at the back and the cooking is definitely of the family type. This is a family operation, front to back, and definitely the better for it.
There are tons of Polish restaurants in Greenpoint, and I can't say I've eaten at a lot of them, but Lomzyniaka certainly rates pretty highly against what I've eaten elsewhere. Flavors are subtle but complex, portions are ample, nothing is phoned-in. The service, too, is completely nice and bullshit-free, courtesy I assume of various female relatives of the girl from Lomza herself, who is cooking in the back.
The decor certainly bears mentioning. We went shortly after Valentines Day, so the oddly charming pink, red and white flowers and ornamentation were still in evidence. This guy above and another deer head dominate the brickwork walls, which are also occasionally punctuated with press clippings and Polish heraldry. Other than that, it's cozy but functional, and mainly populated by actual Poles and/or actual locals, with a strong but not overwhelming minority of Williamsburg types. The menu is in Polish and English and quite affordable. You can eat well for $6, extremely well for $10, and a couple of times for $15. No surcharge for beer glasses, I'm not sure about a corkage fee. Five of us ate for $60 including tip, and four of us took food home.
The soups and cold salads which started the meal were really exceptional–a small plate of composed vegetable salads hits the deck almost immediately after you order. Ours included fine red cabbage and carrot salads, lettuce tossed in a sour cream dressing and cole slaw. We had ordered a side of beets, always good, and those came as well, cooked tender and very lightly seasoned. White borscht (the Polish equivalent of weiner-water soup) was hearty but not cloyingly-thick, with chunks of not-too-fatty kielbasa, a friendly dollop of horseradish and the mellowing agents of cream and egg. Red borscht was a revelation–deep and ruby red, complexly and uniquely spiced, with squishy, chewy, mushroomy dumplings floating in it. Eating it, I felt as though I finally understood–this, this is what borscht is supposed to be.
A good sampler of the heavyweights comes in the form of the Polish Platter (pictured above) is a steal for $9, with three pierogies, a nice slab of stuffed cabbage, a hunk of kielbasa, bigos and mashed potatoes. Pierogies were outstanding, super-crispy and covered in dark brown fried onions, filled with sweet farmers cheese or a perfect mix of kraut and mushrooms. Kielbasa was very good, though not the best I've had (the Polish deli Krakus in Phillipsburg, NJ has a house-made kielbasa currently hanging on the rack when you come in that holds that title at the moment), and potatoes were adequately creamy. Stuffed cabbage and bigos were both very satisfying and spoke very distinctly of the cook behind all this good food–subtle, deep seasoning, culinary resourcefulness, and the soulfulness of all good family-bred comfort food. Along with the mushroom and kraut pierogies, my partner and I ordered the Veal Balls in Dill Sauce, a very clean but sophisticated sauce with light, fluffy meatballs that could have used perhaps a pinch more salt, but were impressive and yet delicate nonetheless.
For those who need an excuse to head to Greenpoint, this is a fine one–there are many good Polish restaurants in the area, but this one combines quality with value and the irreplaceable feeling of homeliness. If you happen to be in the neighborhood that shall-not-be-named south of here, there are plenty of other options, but this is definitely worth the trip, especially for those who'd like to enjoy a beer and a meal for around $10 a head. Plus, I'm betting you might be tired of vegan Asian and trendy American fare by now.
Lomzyniaka is a welcome taste of an unsung tradition, not only in terms of its' homestyle Polish cooking, but also in its' allegiance to an style of presenting ethnic food in America that sometimes seems in danger of disappearing. The utterly unpretentious, welcoming and no-nonsense sort of attitude on display are found in these kind of family-owned and operated restaurants and nearly nowhere else, and seem lately to be in danger of being obsoleted as somehow unsophisticated or quaint. The gleaming exterior of Calexico just across the street seems to represent one articulation of this future–a very restaurant whose exterior (whether you think it charming or not) is styled to resemble the food truck from whence it came. It's interesting as both nod and novelty, but it remains to be seen whether trading trucks in for tablecloths is a good idea or just a timely one. Lomzyniaka, though, is based on a very old idea in dining, one of the very first. It happens quite naturally and usually evolves from a woman who is the best cook everybody in the neighborhood knows. One thing leads to another, and a whole lot of people are soon eating a meal that only a home cook can make. And despite its' long legacy, it is a tradition as worthy of championing as any other.
