Fulton Grand is Great

Veteran Brooklyn bartenders Lucas McDermott and Kevin Mulvaney opened the Fulton Grand last August in the sleepy southeastern corner of Clinton Hill. The area is a relative newcomer to the local bar scene, with recent openings down the street at Hanson Dry and LOX Lounge being the other additions to an relatively dry neighborhood.

The dynamic duo behind Fulton Grand also runs the 4th Avenue Pub in Park Slope and Washington Commons in Prospect Heights. Their classy, straightforward approach appears to be working, as all three locales have been met with generally positive reviews in recent years.

After the recent spat of mega-blizzards, I decided to take a week to see some family out in Los Angeles. Returning home wasn’t easy; I reluctantly climbed aboard my red-eye flight this past Monday with sand between my toes and tacos on my breath, only to arrive in the middle of yet another snowstorm.  Thanks for the warm welcome, Brooklyn. You suck.

Remembering that Fulton Grand opens at 3pm, I headed straight to the bar. A pint of Guinness is the only salvation in times like these. The creamy head, the full body, the nutty flavors; something about it makes this frozen hell mildly tolerable.

It should be noted that Fulton Grand has one of the most euro-centric drafts in the neighborhood, with nearly all of its 12 taps dishing out Belgian whites, German ales and porters.  Most are tasty, if not a bit specialized, and at $6.00 for nearly every pint, it’s a great bar for expanding your brewery palette.  

After two pints, I managed to kick the keg, and moved on to cocktails. Bartender Devin Ayers makes a mean Old Fulton, which is essentially an Old Fashioned with Irish whiskey. I enjoyed it and had several for dinner. Ayers tended to the hectic bar with the skill of a trained professional.

“This is the busiest Monday I’ve ever seen.” he said, “I think its that time of year when everyone turns to the drink.”

It most certainly is.

The bar filled up quickly, a small feat with its strange little pizza-slice footprint, but still impressive for a Monday night. (In fact, there are rumors the bar might expand nextdoor.)

I began to talk up the young couple sitting beside me. As if her feathered earrings and Technicolor outfit weren’t enough of a clue, it turned out Ellen Herra was from LA with only three months in Brooklyn under her belt. We started complaining as the storm got heavier and I became increasingly indignant towards my adopted borough. I could see her man was getting flustered.

“But what about places like this?” said her rattled Long Island-native beau, Troy Kreiner, “I mean, look around you, everyone in here is probably the best conversation you’d ever have out there...and that bourbon selection!”

Spoken like a true New Yorker. It’s that swagger that keeps me here through it all. I looked at that young California girl and realized she was smiling ear to ear. This wintry team spirit was all new to her.

Sure, these next couple months could drive even the most grounded of folks to insanity, but at least we’re doing it together, and at least we have charming little hole-in-the-wall spots like Fulton Grand to keep us medicated.