64 Frost Street, Williamsburg
When last I drank something alcoholic that’d spent time in a blender, it definitely wasn’t in Brooklyn, and it definitely wasn’t on a cold November night. Yet when I arrived here, after walking many dark blocks under the BQE’s rumbling river of cars, it was hard to resist the beachy, vaguely tropical vibe of this former gas station, and so I quickly ordered the bar’s frozen drink of the day. One sip of the toasted five-spice, syrup-laced Dark and Stormy and I started questioning my decision to avoid frozen drinks—and my decision to stay away from simple pleasures in general. Let’s just say by the time I slurped up the last of its slushy, rummy goodness, I had questioned most of my major life decisions and was ready for food.