Beatrice Inn recently reopened as a rustic yet upscale steakhouse.
It was something else before that. I guess. I never went and I refuse to Google it. That’s your job.
Located inside of an old brownstone (painted white) in the West Village, the Beatrice Inn oozes charm and excellent cuisine.
We started with the Scotch Egg (which I order anytime I see it on a menu, because it always looks like a pain in the ass to make and I feel bad for the poor schlubs in the back who had to pre make a bunch of them. At least they can say that one person ordered one!)
Definitely a winner, made from duck sausage. Which tasted just like pork sausage. Except you know it’s made from duck, so you feel just a tad bit of guilt about eating it.
Since it was Sunday, they replaced their usual Game Pie with a trio of mini meat pies. While they were delicious, I would recommend going on a different day and letting me know how it is.
The prime rib was nicely presented and not as sad looking as I’ve seen it before. Usually, its accompanied with a lonely sprig of ghetto parsley and some dry new potatoes. This came with a healthy sprig of thyme and mashed potatoes.
The cocktails were impressive. They were boozy, creative and tasty. The Manhattan that comes inside of a jar of smoke is highly recommended.
For dessert, we shared a highly Instagrammed creme brûlée served inside of a bone, to be eaten like marrow! So good! Do not be frightened by things served in bones. Embrace it.
Embrace your primordial self when you come to the Beatrice Inn and you won’t be sorry.
285 W 12th St
New York, NY 10014
b/t 4th St & 8th Ave