Bread pudding is one of those things that’s hard not to love. Whether it’s a day-old baguette soaked in cream, eggs and sugar and layered with apples, or stale brioche mounted with butter, bourbon, more butter, and raisins, it’s always a winner. But people, no one has done to bread pudding what is being done to it at The General Greene, and it is likely no one ever will again. I would gladly pass up every sweet, buttery, caramel-slathered bread pudding (like the one at Sweet Melissa’s) for the rest of my days for the masterpiece known as Ham and Gruyere Bread Pudding being peddled at The General Greene. People, I will warn you. If you have this bread pudding—a cheesy, gooey, smoky Croque Monsieur melted down into the form of a brioche loaf pan and sliced into hot puffy squares—say goodbye to your toes. Soon a big belly filled with said bread pudding will overshadow them.

Savory bread pudding is nothing new, to be sure, but perhaps it morphs into something just shy of the theory of relativity when it’s placed in the hands of a pastry chef, in this case The General Greene’s owner Nick Morgenstern (Five Ninth, Daniel, Gilt) and consulting chef Ryan Skeen (Five Ninth, Resto and the new chef at Irving Mill), who is a self-confessed Swinevore. The best part of this ham and cheese bread pudding brilliance, other than its taste, is its price tag: $7.

And seven dollars is about what you’ll spend on most plates at the General Greene, a spare, convivial corner store-as-restaurant wrapped in windows and weathered wooden planks, filled with tables cut from blond wood, and a long butcher block bar paired up with tractor-seat bar stools (these can be tricky at first, but once you get that small hump between your legs it’s quite comfortable.)

At the butcher block bar, Kiri and I met for drinks one night and started off with summery refresher called Gin Cup made from gin, muddled cucumbers, mint, lemon and ginger soda that’s a super cooler—sparkly, minty, and fresh. We watched as the room began to fill—t-shirt clad parents and their bjorn-tucked newborn, a couple meeting for dinner after work, a large group of guys and gals at the large picnic table toward the front door—shiny, happy people everywhere. Though if things go as they did on the nights I visited, they will all be wondering how to hear one another once the buzz really gets going around 8 or 9pm. Perhaps owing to all that glass and wood and not much to absorb any of it, the acoustics are terrible at the General.

But that’s all I can really say to dissuade you from going to the General Greene, and even that should not deter you. Go early or go on a less crowded night (a Tuesday, perhaps) and you’ll do just fine. You’ll be able to hear each other as you kvell about the peppery, tangy buttermilk dressing that coats an iceberg wedge, with hunks of bacon and lumps of ripe blue cheese secreted in the nooks and crannies of that fine cold wedge ($8). You’ll be able to discern the moans over the small spicy little patties of lamb that adorn a juicy watermelon, arugula and goat cheese salad ($9).

And you won’t really care about the sound levels once the pork meatballs arrive, the dish that comes as close to earth moving as that ham and gruyere bread pudding. These plump and juicy mini meatballs are secreted inside a French onion soup bowl, swimming in a sweet and smoky tomato sauce that’s capped off with a bubbly quilt of cheese ($9). Pierce the cheese with your fork and a veil of steam will rise up, bringing with it the aroma of a fresh pizza hot from the oven. Then, with the cheese melting onto your fork you’ll stab a meatball and spoon some sauce on top for the perfect bite of meatball, cheese, and sauce. After Craig, Harvey and I were through with the meatballs, we mopped up the extra sauce with the slices of grilled bread that wisely accompany the dish. Heaven.  

Now, to play devil’s advocate to my gushing review here, I suppose there were a few dishes that didn’t wow me. The crispy chicken with a salad of fennel, sweet corn and tarragon ($10), which has garnered a sort of cult following, didn’t really impress me. The meat, while moist, was rather bland, and the skin not especially crispy or well seasoned. I was disappointed. I also wasn’t happy with the cheddar-topped burger for one reason and one reason only, and it’s the same reason that I had problems with Ryan’s burger at Resto: the bun. That beef is juicy and so well salted and peppered that ketchup would be an insult, but that bun—a dry, fall-apart white bread round that might have come from a bottom shelf at A&P—is just inexcusable. With all the care that’s given all these ingredients and dishes, this is awful. He used the same bun at Resto and here too it doesn’t stand up to the burger, it falls apart, and, quite frankly it ruins quite a beautiful burger.

By way of criticism, that’s really all I got for you. The rest is darn right great. Red mullet ($12), a fish that rarely gets much play outside of Greek restaurants, are served here topped with crispy fingers of saffron rice (think potato chips made from fried rice) and a spicy mayo for a vaguely Spanish take on these small but flavorful and meaty fishies. The quinoa salad with mint, walnuts and preserved lime, was so good—nutty, lemony, and addictive—that it might turn this vegan-favored super food into the next bacon. Twice baked potatoes loaded up with bacon and sour cream ($6) fall into the category of secret foods that I eat at sports bars with Craig. (Nachos are also on that list. Gasp!!!) But now I no longer have to be ashamed. I can eat my potato and be proud. It’s probably a local spud and even if it isn’t, it’s served in a hip Fort Greene restaurant where at least half the crowd is in heavy black plastic-framed eyeglasses, so there’s that.

Desserts include chocolate chip cookies served warm and flecked with sea salt that wakes up the flavors nicely and makes you pay attention. But if the peach crisp is on the menu, it’s a must, ditto any of Nick’s homemade ice creams, especially the salted caramel. (A street cart selling cones and cups is coming soon.)

But, wait. Did I mention the bar menu? I don’t think so. Oh, it’s a good one. It’s comprised of a few dishes served in little mason jars with slices of warm bread marked in charred stripes from the grill. There’s a jar of roasted eggplant ($5), one filled with chicken liver ($7), and another with preserved lamb and black beans (which was 86’d both times I was there owing perhaps to its popularity). There’s also an excellent selection of shaved and sliced radishes with salt and anchovies ($5) and some rather slippery deviled eggs ($3) filled with spicy creamy yolks. While the ham and Gruyere bread pudding is not on the bar menu, have it anyway. Just remember to wave goodbye to your toes.

The General Greene is located at 229 DeKalb Avenue, corner of Clermont, 718-222-1510.

Andrea Strong