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The bar area inside The Brooklyn, now open in Scott’s Addition at 1616 Summit Ave. (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
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The kitchen at The Brooklyn is anchored by a wood-fired oven and a custom grill. (Photo courtesy Patrick Phelan)
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A view of the open kitchen at The Brooklyn (Photo courtesy Patrick Phelan)
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Interior lighting (Photo courtesy Patrick Phelan)
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The Brandy Crusta cocktail, featuring cognac, curacao, maraschino, bitters and lemon (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
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Butterflied branzino with aji amarillo beurre blanc (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
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Glazed meatloaf with potato and mustard greens (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
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Pumpkin spice affogato (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
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Flames from the wood fires in the kitchen are visible from the street outside The Brooklyn. (Photo by Eileen Mellon)
As one approaches the latest project from chefs, restaurateurs and spouses Patrick Phelan and Megan Fitzroy Phelan, flickering flames are visible through the front window — a silent, unmistakable sign of what’s to come. Situated in a corner building at 1616 Summit Ave., The Brooklyn is a compact, wood-fired refuge that thrives on contrasts: dark yet inviting, intimate yet energetic. Part wine and cocktail bar, part restaurant, part late-night destination, it lives up to its tagline — “low lights, high spirits, good times, after hours” — as it makes its debut this week in Scott’s Addition.
“The thing that brings it all together is just fire,” says Patrick, who also operates Lost Letter and Lillian with his wife. “It’ll unify everything.”
Inside, the dining room takes its cues from two wood-fired vessels that anchor the space and set its cadence. Named for the couple’s 5-year-old son (sister restaurant Lillian honors their daughter), The Brooklyn continues a thread the duo never expected to extend across multiple blocks in Scott’s Addition.
“A lot of this was driven off the bar really close to Meg and I in New York,” Patrick says of their former city. “And we loved [that] when you came in, there was just like a little potbelly stove, and some benches, and you could come in and get a drink with someone quick and jet, or stay for hours and not feel like you’re putting pressure.”
That sense of ease guides this new venture, with the Phelans surrounded by familiar experts in its realization: woodworker Daniel Ricky, whose wraparound bar sweeps into a service area illuminated by heat lamps; Fultz & Singh Architects, also responsible for Lillian and the former Longoven space (the Phelans’ first Richmond concept with chef Andrew Manning) that now houses Lost Letter; and the tenured team that grounds the operation. There is a quiet confidence that shapes their workflow, and the couple says this effort carries the steadiness of experience.
“This place is definitely like a third child, or a second child, in that sense,” Patrick says. A punk-rock-esque running-man emblem on the front door captures both the nature of their son and the restaurant itself: small, fast-moving and full of energy.
The Brooklyn’s central distinction is its flames. A Marra Forni oven and custom grill from Grills by Demant radiate heat from the open kitchen, where chefs Ryan Diaz and Gary Heintzelman — alums of Charleston, South Carolina’s Michelin-starred Vern’s — helm the hearth. During service, each keeps an uchiwa, a traditional Japanese fan used in fire cooking, tucked into his apron.
“They are the core of this kitchen,” Patrick says. “They know each other, and they [have] worked together for a long time. They’re super talented.”
Leather-bound menus feature dishes highlighting the depth fire can coax from ingredients. Find a grilled pork skewer with lardo and braised belly over tonnato sauce; beef carpaccio with porcini mushrooms, horseradish shallot and potato chips; butterflied and blistered branzino atop papaya-yellow aji amarillo; and a Roseda Farm rib-eye. And then there’s the glazed meatloaf, a former family meal shared by the staff that presents a nostalgic but refined take on comfort.
The latter dish speaks to the Phelans’ ambition to establish their role as an after-hours hangout, and to avoid being too precious. “Nothing would be greater than for someone to roll in here at 10 o’clock and get a square of meatloaf that is just bomb and a cold beer, so we’ve leaned into that a bit,” Patrick says.
Further offerings showcase Italian touches and Latin American influences, and vegetarian-friendly plates include Easterday Mushrooms in green curry; candy roaster squash over bold mole negro with celery root and lime slivers; and a bowl of brothy gigante white beans and kale with ribbons of Parmesan, hunks of garlic, parsley and lemon. In the coming weeks, The Brooklyn will introduce its late-night menu, available from 10 p.m. to midnight.
Though the fire-friendly menu could easily skew toward pizza — an anchovy bread did make an appearance during The Brooklyn’s soft opening — Patrick is quick to clarify: “This is my anti-pizza oven,” he says, laughing. “We will have a pie, but it’s not the main reason for being here.
“Every item,” he emphasizes, “must be a banger. We want a place that’s just ultra simple, and polished in some places; it’s just kind of in our DNA.”
The Brooklyn carries its warmth beyond the kitchen, shaped by James Beard Award-winning designer Julie Roberts, the creative force behind the Phelans’ restaurant identities. Her approach favors subtlety over spectacle. Original tin ceilings draw the eyes up, exposed bulbs jut from the walls, and a single glass bottle embedded in the cement — a remnant of an earlier era — hints at the building’s history.
Lighting is minimal, with candles casting shadows onto tables and patrons at the bar appearing as mere silhouettes. Antique furniture and velvet curtains soften the edges, a Hoosier cabinet functions as a service station, funky tile in the bathrooms introduces pattern, tucked-away two-tops offer pockets of intimacy, and marigold-colored martini glasses pop behind the bar. And a thoughtfully curated playlist, intended to shift seamlessly throughout the evening, mirrors the restaurant’s tempo: slow and steady at first, then subtly rising as the night progresses.
“Vibe-wise, that’s what we’re trying to keep,” Patrick says. “The place will get completely dark, super moody, but you can just kind of hunker down here with a date or a friend, and every seat is like a different experience.”
A focal point of The Brooklyn, the 17-seat bar offers nearly 20 wines by the glass, many of them bold selections from mineral-rich volcanic regions, alongside an extensive bottle list and plenty of Champagne. “Proper” cocktails stick to classic three- or four-ingredient builds. There are nods to New Orleans, including the Bywater, a boozy, Big Easy-born sipper; Sazerac; and sugar-rimmed Brandy Crusta and French 75. Other drinks include a Paloma, house martini, rum-forward Jungle Bird and rye-based Brooklyn. Espresso is available both straight up and affogato style over housemade ice cream, crafted by Megan, currently pumpkin spice flavor.
This next step for the independent restaurant group is also a moment of growth for its employees, with a reshuffling of positions and a few fresh, yet experienced, faces joining the mix. “I’m super excited, the staff is really excited,” Patrick says. “This is definitely the first opening we’ve done as a staff in a sense. We talked about doing this three years ago, and here it is.”
The Phelans also recognize a deeper layer to this project: permanence.
“This is the first thing we own, our investors own,” Patrick says. “We have a little more freedom to get it right. And not having the pressure — knowing this place could sit here for 30 years — it feels like a neighborhood joint, and it’s a pretty awesome little spot. ... Once fire fills up the whole place, you’ll see it from the door and you won’t escape the kitchen at all.”
The Brooklyn is open Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday from 5 to 10 p.m. and Friday and Saturday from 5 p.m. to midnight. Reservations, recommended for parties larger than four, must be made by phone (804-414-6122) between 3 to 5 p.m. Wednesday to Sunday. Walk-ins are welcome.
