A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone is a blog created by Sammi Katz. I drink alone at bars, then review them for how awesome or awful they are for women to go to alone. Based in NYC.


348 Wythe Ave at S 2nd St, Williamsburg

The Place: LA farmhouse meets brunch hotspot of the Williamsburg hipster parent set.


The Time: Wednesday June 26, 5:45pm. I found myself in Williamsburg doing a little ~*shopping*~ when I remembered, it’s Negroni Week! If you’re not familiar with this “sounds like an excuse to drink” holiday, it’s kind of exactly that. Restaurants and bars can participate in a celebration of all things Negroni, and donate a portion of the proceeds to a charity of their choice. Needless to say, this holiday is just an excuse to drink, but at least it’s for a good cause!

The Vibe: Once I see the blue-striped awning and bistro tables out front, I know I’m in the right place. Everything is cute and wooden; there’s exposed brick, big windows, delicate floral accents everywhere. There is a wall of logs, as if a houseboy is just gonna throw a log on the (nonexistent) fire at any moment. It definitely gives me a cabin in the Hamptons vibe, while also feeling like a California ranch. And yet - it is still distinctly Brooklyn, complete with all the hip Williamsburg folk you’d expect. The bar is off to the right, near a cluster of tables, while the rest of the place is more restaurant, I guess. I read online that there are three stories including a rooftop, but for me, the whole shebang is this little bar area. The bar itself and the bar shelves are wooden and it’s supposed to feel quaint and cozy. But I clearly came at a point of transition for the staff, because everything seems a little chaotic and messy. I feel like I’m bothering them by being here. But then I’m like, it’s a quarter to six, they should be expecting people. As I’m waiting to order my drink, a kid, his mom and grandma sit down at the bar. Okay. Okay, okay. I get that it’s an all-day cafe/bar/restaurant/whatever situation. And I get that it’s early in the evening. HOWEVER. In my opinion. No one under the age of 21 should be allowed to sit at a bar at adult drinking time. He’s maybe 8 and he isn’t annoying or making a lot of noise, but it definitely impacts my enjoyment. I chose to come to a bar, not a diner. This is my adult drinking time! But the longer I sit, the more strollers arrive. God, Williamsburg is Stroller City now and I want my watering holes to to be adult-only spaces, tbh.


The Bartender: A guy who seems very frazzled and he’s nice enough, but he kinda just stands in front of me when he sees I need something (to ask for the Negroni Week menu, to order my drink(s), to ask for the check) and waits for me to talk. He also repeats my name back to me when he reads it on my credit card, and I’m like, yeah that’s me, I know my own name, thanks.

The Drank: Because I came here with a purpose, I obviously have to get something off the Negroni Week menu. They have an OG Negroni for $14 and then a selection of “mini-gronies,” small bottled Negroni variations, 2 for $16. I ask if I have to get two. The bartender checks with someone and then tells me yes, I must get two. So I get two, even though I only want one. I choose the Jamaican Out (Jamaican rum, Campari, passionfruit, hibiscus) and the Spunky Monkey (genever, Campari, vermouth, banana, coffee bean). Big fan of the Spunky Monkey, less so of the Jamaican Out. I’m also a total Negroni nerd asshole, so I believe the Jamaican Out doesn’t actually qualify as a Negroni because there’s no vermouth. But they’re both so cute! So I can’t complain too much.


Was I Hit On?: Not a chance. Too many fashionable ladies Instagramming their spritzes. Too many kids and their trendy parents Instagramming their kids.

Should You Drink Here Alone?: So I think I did it wrong. Apparently the big deal about Sunday in Brooklyn is brunch, which I really should’ve assumed because of the name. The internet tells me to tell you to go get the pancakes, but if you’re a lady going stag on a night out, spend your Sunday (or Wednesday, or Friday, or any day) in Brooklyn somewhere else.