I don’t write about food. Well shit I guess I do now.
In a baffling twist of fate, no one cares what I think about food. I’ve tried to write about restaurants and bars and other places people go and buy things while sitting down, but no one ever seems to care. It’s always, yeah yeah whatever Shani what do you know about eating and writing even though you’ve been doing both of those things since you were in short pants. We just wanna hear about single stuff! Well dammit I need variety so pipe down and listen to me talk about pizza and wine! For fuck’s sake!
About a week ago I was on Instagram and saw that a new wine and pizza spot opened up within walking distance of my home and days later I brushed my hair put on hard pants and pointed my body at its destination. I should mention that until last July, I lived in Brooklyn for eight years and while I’m madly in love with my new home in New Orleans, I miss my ex terribly. The first thing I noticed when I got to Margot’s was that it’s extremely Brooklyn-sized. This pleases me. Little-known fact, I hate large restaurants. They make me feel insignificant. There, I’ve said it.
The restaurant was 100% comfortably full when I walked in at 6:22pm on a Friday evening, I was that one extra human it couldn’t hold, but the (angelic) staff let me stand at a little side part of the bar too small for a barstool but the perfect size for all 5 foot 6 inches of me. I waited for a friend to arrive while I read the drink menu and appreciated the charming drawings on the windows. I am so excited to tell you about the alcohol situation:
Pros: The drink menu contains actual full sections for things like spritzes and Negronis which means they serve more than one kind. If that excites you we just became best friends. For a place that doesn’t have a rooftop or outdoor seating they sure as shit know a summer cocktail. There was nothing I didn’t want to try, but I tried nothing, because I was instead captivated by wine options I hadn’t laid eyes on in more than nine months.