This Restaurant Follows the Martini-and-Fries Playbook, But Still Pleasantly Surprises

This Restaurant Follows the Martini-and-Fries Playbook, But Still Pleasantly Surprises

Inside the Snail in Greenpoint

The Snail comes from Austin Baker, an alum of the Hogsalt restaurant group in Chicago (known for spots like the burger destination Au Cheval) and, more recently, Saraghina Pizzeria in Brooklyn. When it opened, I didn’t pay much attention. Another bistro with fries? How original. But it has nevertheless stayed busy among the contingent of shrimp cocktail and dirty martini aficionados, and I wanted to see how it stacked up.

Like its equally-busy neighbor Bernie’s down the street, The Snail only takes walk-ins. It’s a policy that might seem appealing now more than ever, as reservations have become a competitive sport. That doesn’t mean that walk-ins are any easier, but there’s potential for a day-of fighting chance.

Though The Snail doesn’t open for dinner until 5 p.m., the line at 4:39 p.m. on a recent Saturday was at least 30 people long. By the time the first wave of diners was about to enter, the line had stretched to Driggs Avenue. Still, we waited it out to find out whether you should be doing the same.

The scene: My dining partner and I got to the host stand and put a name in at 5:12 p.m. and were quoted a wait of about 1.5 hours for seats at either the table or the bar (that’s to say: bar seating doesn’t seem like a fast-track option). We’d get a text when seats opened up, the host said, at which point we’d have 10 minutes to return. Luckily, several bars are just a short walk away. At 6:23 p.m., I got a text that the table was open and we were seated by 6:30 p.m.

Despite the somewhat hectic initial influx of prospective diners, the restaurant felt surprisingly chill and charming: The text system does a lot to keep crowds from congregating at the entrance. The upbeat, rhythmic music was at a volume that made conversation easy. The tables were snug but not too cramped. The lighting was low but not too dark, aided by the wall of windows facing the park. Much like the new construction building its housed in, interiors are fittingly simple, opting for white walls, hanging plants, and light wood, where many bistros might instead go dark and heavy.

The service: Given the demand for seats, I was concerned that the meal would feel rushed, but it was paced comfortably. Ultimately, this is a good date night spot and many people seemed to be using it that way.

The location, which at one point was the restaurant Annicka, is spacious and anchored by a horseshoe bar in front of an open kitchen.

The drinks: The martinis here are simpler than others these days — it’s just “house martini” on the menu, vodka or gin — though they can be topped with an octopus Gilda for a $5 upcharge. There is a selection of wine, beer, and “spirit-free” options.

The food: This is a “New York Happy Meal” kind of place. At this point, this is a known playbook and one can easily get cynical about appeasing the masses with yet another au poivre. Still, The Snail manages to do these classics right.

Most dishes are generous and shareable. There is a section of snacky plates like a tower of chips layered with ham from the Kentucky producer Broadbent ($13) and the namesake escargot, served with a classic parsley-garlic butter and baguette from the nearby Nick & Sons ($23). The raw section includes the requisite crudos — we enjoyed the cracker topped with silky tuna and avocado ($19) — and that shrimp cocktail ($19). The blanket of grated Parm would seem to be excessive atop the Caesar salad ($19), but it’s little touches like this, plus crispy capers, that make a version worth ordering.

Bulking up the menu are three pastas, like tender, crab-filled cappelletti in orange saffron beurre blanc (seven pieces for $29). Vegetarian options could perhaps be expanded. The cheeseburger seems to be a popular choice, but the true test of a so-called bistro is the steak frites au poivre. Here, it’s, eight ounces for $45, which felt standard. I’d heard previous reviews that the sauce skewed sweet in a bad way, but that seemed to be fixed by this visit. It was savory and properly peppery.

Desserts continued the theme of slight riffs, like the “chocosu,” a dense and strikingly black chocolate cake topped with tiramisu. Its restrained level of sweetness just about called out for an espresso martini chaser (though the restaurant’s is more of a carajillo).

The takeaway: The through line was unchallenging dishes, done well. With the continued success of places like the Corner Store, it’s clear that this is the type of food a lot of New Yorkers still want. These kinds of hits-only menus aren’t a risk, but more of a guarantee that dinner will at least be decent. Is that destination-worthy? I wouldn’t say so. But, like Bernie’s, look past the line and it’s a spot where I could see myself wanting to be a regular if the crowds move onto the next hotspot.

The trick: On the way out the door at 8 p.m., I asked what the wait might be like if someone were to drop by later to put their name in. “Three to four hours,” the host said, not optimistically; the restaurant closes at 10 p.m. For a more chill experience, they noted, your best bet is a Wednesday or Sunday night. It seems like a good place for a luxurious solo dinner, though I’m sure lots of people are now thinking that too.