The People in Your Neighborhood: John Heilemann
Best person whose name you don’t know?
The guy who’s a dead ringer for Zach Galifianakis—unless of course he actually is Zach Galifianakis.
Best celebrity in the neighborhood?
Zach Galifianakis. Or James Murphy.
Which are there more of: dogs, bodega cats, strollers, American Apparel ads, or old men on stoops?
I’ve lost count of all five.
What’s missing from Williamsburg?
A first-rate seafood shop.
What’s been the biggest change since you’ve moved in?
Since moving back to Williamsburg a year ago, it’s been hard not to notice the (not-unrelated) decrease in the number of hipsters and the increase in the number of strollers. Perfectly happy about the first part, uneasy about the second.
It’s a Saturday night in August. You don’t feel like traveling very far but you’re antsy for a night out. Where do you go?
Right across the street to the La Esquina outpost on Wythe—the Pepino Diablo margaritas are what summer nights are for.
If you had to go to just one restaurant in your hood for the rest of your life, which one would it be?
Prime Meats for sure—though if it weren’t for insane waits for a table at Roberta’s, this might be a closer call.
Best late-night eats?
Andrew Tarlow’s indispensible dyad of Marlow & Sons and Diner.
Best food truck?
Love both of Williamsburg’s legendary rollling tacquerias—Endless Summer and El Diablo. But you’d be a fool to gainsay the totality of the Red Hook Ballfield scene.
What kind of restaurant is missing from Williamsburg?
Chinese. Indian. Sushi. Did I mention Chinese?
Most expensive thing in your fridge?
Either the bowl of Beluga as big as a fist (pricey), the bottle of vintage Dom Perignon (pricier), or the jug of homemade barbecue sauce (priceless).