Buttermilk Channel.(Restaurant review)

This is a restaurant determined to be of and for its neighborhood. Its name refers to the stretch of water between Governors Island and Brooklyn (there's a helpful map on the back of the menu). The decor is simple--an unadorned brick wall, paned windows, two big mirrors--though there are touches of whimsy: a goldfish bowl on a shelf above the bar, draped with a dog tag ("Ackerman"), its lone inhabitant circling underneath a miniature disco ball. The prices are reasonable, the beers are from New York state, and there's a Merlot made by Brooklyn Oenology, based in Greenpoint ("They don't actually grow the grapes there," a waitress noted). The bathroom harbors a poster for "Cowboy from Brooklyn" (Dick Powell, Priscilla Lane, Ronald Reagan), which might be more instructive than intended. It's the story of a man pretending to be something he is not; there's a sense, at times, that Buttermilk Channel works awfully hard to appear effortlessly congenial. You can't fault the restaurant for popularity, but a three-hour wait for a table doesn't seem very neighborly.

Despite the friendliness of the staff and the owner, Doug Crowell, who is an indefatigably cheerful presence, the feeling persists on the scattershot menu--fried chicken and waffles here, herb-crusted hake there. The former was juicy, though the exterior was almost ...