You know a restaurant is cool when you can't figure out where the door is or how to open it and so you stand in front of it for five minutes and you're trying to be all suave because the last thing you want to do is try the wrong way to open the door and then finally you give it a shot and go and push on one of the big floor-to-ceiling windows because it can't possibly be the other entrance because that gets into the kitchen. And then people walk by and look at you oddly because you're pushing with all the subtly brute force you can muster onto this completely static wall and you sort of smile and then they go and pull the handle that's so obviously there, just a little to the right.

This is all entirely hypothetical. But if it weren't, we'd be describing the place we had dinner at last night. Song, in Brooklyn. That's right, kids, Brooklyn. We strapped on our flak jackets and dug out or metrocard and headed in to the great Park Slope yonder. For dinner. And design.

Industrial-chic with a few smacks of SEA. Recommended for anyone who likes their drunkman with a side of style.

295 Fifth Avenue at 1st St, Brooklyn.