Olmsted

When Olmsted opened in 2017, the “locally sourced everything” movement was still in full gear, outliving the Portlandia spoofs and barn weddings that it inspired. The Park Slope restaurant not only grew vegetables and herbs in its backyard, it had a tub full of crayfish, a small quail coop, and mini apple trees. Diners were invited to have a drink out in the garden, before coming inside the restaurant for a full dinner of creative, seasonal dishes like carrot crepes chock full of clams and pasta made from rutabaga. Whether or not everything actually came from the backyard wasn’t the point—it fulfilled a certain fantasy, showed the restaurant’s commitment to the philosophy, and made for some pretty delicious food, too.

These days, the best dishes on Olmsted's menu are still the carrot crepe and rutabaga pasta, both of which have been on regular rotation since it opened. That’s not to say the newer, still creative, still aggressively seasonal dishes aren’t enjoyable, it’s just that the duck liver banh mi or the watermelon sushi topped with springy slabs of fluke are on par with what you’d find at any half-respectable Brooklyn wine bar selling fussy small plates (which, ironically, are probably places inspired to some degree by Olmsted).

But if there’s one element other restaurants can’t replicate, it’s the charm of Olmsted’s backyard. There’s now a covered wooden structure to the side, outfitted with antique rugs and couches, where you can order from the same menu as the dining room. If you sit inside, you can still wander out for a pre- or post-dinner drink in the main garden, which was recently renovated and covered in a big wooden deck with even more seating. (The quail coop—where squawks that sounded like Jurassic Park velociraptors were known to annoy the neighbors—is now gone.) While Olmsted is still a reliable and pleasant neighborhood spot, eating out back on a warm night is now the main reason we’d send someone here over the food. And that’s just fine. Order the adult s’mores, which come with your own personal fire pit, admire the patio furniture that you can’t afford, and stop threatening to move upstate already.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Noah Devereaux

Carrot Crepe

An Olmsted classic, iterations of this have been on their menu forever. There are buttery clams under that carrot crepe, and once you cut it open, it turns into a sweet-ish, briney treat. It's still the most impressive dish here.

Rutabaga Tagliatelle

When they have it, this is another classic worth ordering—the noodles are surprisingly chewy, and the truffle butter sauce is subtle, so it doesn't overpower them.

photo credit: Kate Previte

Fava Falafel

We love this soft, moist falafel—but wish it were served with something more interesting than this spicy ricotta.

photo credit: Kate Previte

Duck Liver Banh Mi

The duck liver is a nice twist, with a strong earthy flavor. It does taste good, but be warned, it gets very soggy, very quickly.

photo credit: Kate Previte

Olmsted Burger

A perfectly fine burger, for $32. Skip.

photo credit: Kate Previte

Heirloom Tomato Schnitzel

Too thick, and severely underseasoned.

photo credit: Kate Previte

S'mores

An order of s’mores comes with your own mini fire pit, chocolate, housemade graham crackers and housemade marshmallows—in our case, lavender-flavored ones. It’s gimmicky, and feels a little silly. But eating these in Olmsted’s yard on a warm summer night does make us smile.