The irony wasn’t lost on this old sailor: Last night, I was treated to a serious steak at a decidedly non-hipster haunt near my new home in Williamsburg. Destafano’s satisfied all my carnivorous urges and also introduced me to some of the locals in my new hood, people that don’t have a used dresser packed with plaid shirts back home. Williamsburg, with its hipster hangs, massive flowering parks, and quaint shops, is grounded in the old-school Italian and Polish populations who've been here forever, and, thankfully, who readily accept their newish quirky residents.
more

