The Four Horsemen

Photograph by David Brandon Geeting
Photograph by David Brandon Geeting

“If I could see all my friends tonight,” James Murphy sang once, or rather, many times, at the end of the biggest song on LCD Soundsystem’s biggest album. Eight years after that album, and four years after the band played its farewell shows at Madison Square Garden, Murphy has willed his wish into being, with a captivating wine bar in Williamsburg. He can be seen there frequently, with his wife, Christina Topsøe, who is also a partner in the restaurant, and a fluid circle of drinking companions.

The atmosphere alone could be enough to warrant a visit: a burlap-walled, cedar-accented party hosted by a low-key, affable celebrity. “We’re music writers,” offered a pair in contrasting flannel shirts, who explained one recent evening that they’d travelled across town to catch a glimpse of Murphy. Once he’d been spotted, a glass of marmalade-colored Languedoc in hand, the music writers made quick work of a plate of prosciutto and calculated an intricate split of their bill. A food writer, though, was also gratified, by the garlicky jolt of the aioli on patatas bravas; steak tartare in puddles of buttermilk; a pork shank with shelling beans made summery with strands of zucchini and dollops of salsa verde. There was a spectacular salad of snap peas, shot through with chili and Microplaned out of sight by a blanket of ricotta-salata cheese. Consider that a calling card from the chef, Nick Curtola, who came from Franny’s; his vegetables taste like treats, in a style familiar to acolytes of Park Slope’s unofficial clubhouse.

Best of all, though, is the way the unpretentious waitstaff talk about the wines. The “What do you like?” approach—an attempt at solicitousness that manages to be completely unhelpful and intimidating—is banished. Instead, there’s a brief list, and a firm hand. In the mood for a glass of red? “There are two Gamays. One has a baked-raisin vibe.” (Wine that sounds like a scone is hard to pass up.) By the time a late-night June rainstorm appears, and the subway’s lesser, more beige lines are being contemplated, Murphy has migrated from a table to the bar, where the bartender is pouring a quietly effervescent rosé out of a not so quiet magnum. As Murphy has noted, New York can bring you down. It might do so pretty soon, as you stand on the J-train platform. But tonight, it bought itself some time. ♦

Open daily for dinner. Plates $13-$20.