My friend Meredith and I live mere blocks from each other in Brooklyn, but since my dining is done almost exclusively in Manhattan, I rely on her to tell me what’s good in the neighborhood. She recently recommended the sandwich shop Saltie, saying, “I had their Scuttlebutt sandwich 2 weeks ago and CAN’T stop thinking about it.”

I don’t do olives, so instead I tried the Clean Slate, and OMG, you guys, I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

It’s hummus, quinoa, pickles, and yogurt on naan, and the memories of its craveable sourness just keeps invading my brain. $8 seemed a little steep to me until I got the thing and saw that the amount of filling they put on the bread makes it more like a sandwich and its own side dishes. It’s sweet, it’s crunchy, it’s oozy, it’s messy, and IT WILL BE MINE again.

The shop itself is quintessential New Williamsburg, a tiny little storefront with benches enough to seat 10 normal-sized people or 20 hipsters. Just take a look at their contact info or click on the picture of the menu on their site, and you’ll get a great idea of the cute atmosphere of the place.

My friend Meredith and I decided to go to Lodge in our Brooklyn neighborhood of Williamsburg one night last week to celebrate a cool restaurant not being on the cool-saturated Bedford Ave. She’d been there once a year ago for brunch and wasn’t impressed, but she left deciding that she wanted to come back and try more of the dishes, so I’d say it was a success.

deviled eggs with plenty of chives

• I’m so into the fact that deviled eggs are a popular thing right now. These were probably the best I’ve had lately thanks to their extreme chiviness. The added texture was a welcome treat, too.

pulled pork

• This was less like pulled pork and more like pulled pork soup. I’m the kind of girl who likes a little Kansas City in her barbeque, so I wasn’t totally averse to the extra sauce, but this would’ve overwhelmed someone who prefers their sauce as a mop or a side. The meat was just the right amount of fatty, and there was still plenty of burnt-end flavor, but I’d probably tell them to make it not-so-sloppy next time.

Brussels sprouts with MUSHROOMS

• Why are there mushrooms in my Brussels sprouts?! And why are they not mentioned on the menu?! Neither Meredith nor I were very pleased with this, especially since little burned Brussels sprouts bits look like mushrooms, and I accidentally ate one. Not that it tasted bad or anything, because mushrooms are actually kind of delicious, but I don’t eat them because of their ugliness.

gouda mac & cheese

• Just look at that flaky topping. This more-mac-than-cheese tasted slightly bacony to me, but there was no bacon to be found in it, so maybe they used a smoked gouda that deceived me. This was meant to be a side dish but more than served as Meredith’s main, so A+ for value.

It’s a very neighborhoody kind of place, with a family at one table and a group of twentysomethings celebrating a birthday at another. It’s on a quiet but not uninhabited corner, and the people-watching–guessing whether a girl actually liked the rumbly 50s-era car her date was driving, a Satmar Jew looking completely lost for five minutes but unwilling to stop anyone for help–from walls of solid glass was top-notch. The service was totally unpretentious and even verging on friendly, my giant bottle of pear cider was only $10, and they were playing Spoon on the overhead speakers. Sold.

I haven’t read a single negative review of Brooklyn’s Motorino yet in the year it’s been open. With my apartment literally around the corner from it, I was as excited as anyone to see a hip, sit-down, candlelit pizzaria open in a neighborhood full of ones you’d never take a date to unless it was specifically because you never planned to ask him out again and wanted him to know it.

When it comes to ambiance, Motorino is the best thing the Graham Avenue L train stop has going for it. Dark wood, cozy but not overcrowded quarters, a nice outdoor deck area, and a good-looking waitstaff who isn’t afraid to defend the fact that the place doesn’t serve pepperoni. The brick oven is in plain view of the dining room and creates a nice warmth, the bar is spacious, and the overall feel is nouveau speakeasy. Big fan.

Only I haven’t met anyone who actually thinks the pizza is all it’s made out to be. As far as I can tell, one really popular food critic praised it, a few more followed suit, and then every food blogger and her brother followed suit. The sauce is too mild, the cheese only covers about a quarter of the crust, and you know, brick oven pizza is all crunchy and burnt.

However, they do have tons of toppings that interest me. The speck and Brussels sprouts pizza was a favourite for its crispy leaves and salty ham, as was the prosciutto for its prosciuttoiness. There’s also mortadella, broccolini and sausage, and plenty of anchovies for the kids.

Both of the first two times I visited, I went for the $14 calzone, which is filled with sausage, parsley, and too much garlic and is as large as your head. Literally. I seriously love a calzone and was puuuuuuuuuuuumped to tear into the thing, but it was such a disappointment. There was supposed to be cheese inside, but I found none; the crumbled sausage seemed to be held together by nothing, and I had a hard time keeping any of it on my fork. There was no sauce, neither inside nor on the plate. The crust was fine, but there was way too much of it to have such dry ingredients inside. The only positive was the fresh basil sprinkled on top of the whole thing.

The gelato and sorbets we’ve tried from their list have all been fine, but Fortunato Brothers is right down the street, and they have twice the flavors for half the price. Motorino does have special daily desserts that always entice me, though, like figs drenched in honey with mint leaves.

The important thing to remember here is that even just okay pizza is delicious, and I’m excited that Motorino is having success in the neighborhood if it means more thoughtful restaurants will move to my street instead of Bedford Ave. And I can’t deny the satisfied looks on my friends’ faces.