Inga's Bar — A Girl's Guide to Drinking Alone

66 HICKS ST AT CRANBERRY ST, BROOKLYN HEIGHTS

The Place: A gussied-up neighborhood tavern nestled in the fruit streets of Brooklyn Heights that’s clearly a local favorite.

The Time: Monday February 26, 7:30pm. Way back in the yesteryear of 2022, I attempted to go to Inga’s, only to find that it was closed due to a staff COVID exposure. (What a throwback, right?) So on this mild February night, I take a long walk up Hicks Street and find myself at Inga’s; it’s open this time.

*The Sherry, Niles? cocktail at Inga’s Bar*

The Vibe: Yet again, I’m out on a Monday at a neighborhood spot that I thought might be chill, and yet again, I thought wrong. On a cute corner of an otherwise residential block of Brooklyn Heights, Inga’s is separated into two parts: a dining room first, with a barroom toward the back. The host tells me there’s one seat left at the bar, “so you better go grab it,” and I really wish getting a spot at a bar on a Monday didn’t feel like the Hunger Games. Tonight, though, the odds are in my favor and I snag the seat. It’s hard not to immediately compare Inga’s to Swoony’s, where I last drank alone. Both are relatively new neighborhood restaurants with strong bar scenes yet are praised for their food, and are obviously popular with the locals. But Inga’s feels distinctly young and cool, with loud music and posters all over the exposed brick walls (there are even some on the black stamped tin ceiling). There’s a group of friends down at one end of the bar, a solo guy with a book down at the other and I’m sandwiched between two couples. Even though it’s bustling and loud, I don’t feel cramped or out of place. Soon, another woman alone takes a seat next to me once one of the couples leaves, and I always feel good about a bar where other women choose to go stag.

The Bartender: Ryan, wearing a band sweater and sporting a lot of tattoos, is a great bartender who knows how to hold court. He’s attentive to everyone and frankly, he’s probably a big part of why I feel comfortable here. (This is now a Ryan appreciation post.)

The Drank: I start with the Sherry, Niles?, a cocktail with a strange name that someone needs to explain to me*. It looks like a glass of wine, but is in fact made up of manzanilla sherry, kumquat vermouth and angostura bitters. It’s a perfect aperitif, IMO, but I’m a sherry fan. I’m also hungry, so I order both the ricotta and focaccia appetizer, and the charred gem salad. The ricotta is delicious, as is the salad, which is less a salad and more just a vehicle for blue cheese. (This is now a cheese appreciation post.) I’m not mad at it, but about halfway through, the cheese defeats me and much to my dismay, after two courses of mostly cheese, I’m fully cheesed out.

Was I Hit On?: No, but we service industry folks tend to give ourselves away pretty quickly, and Ryan suspects I’m in the biz after I order my second drink, a classic sherry cocktail called an Adonis. (“This is like the second time anyone’s ever ordered an Adonis from me, where do you work?”) We nerd out about all things sherry pretty much until I pay my check. On my way out, I run into a friend from college, who knows instantly what I’m doing here. I tell her it’ll get a rave review, since it’s very cool and fun. “Yeah, look who’s sitting over there and you can tell how cool it is.” It’s Jenny Slate. Ah, celebrities; they’re just like us!

Should You Drink Here Alone?: Absolutely. Despite its name, Inga’s Bar is really more of a restaurant, but it has all the trappings of an excellent neighborhood bar. It’s delicious and convivial, with great product and great people. I don’t know who Inga is, but she’s doing something right.

*Apparently this is a Frasier reference. I’ve always been more of a Friends girl.