have you been to HAGS?

Edition No.3: Austin Tedesco wants you to have a fun dinner.

Welcome back !! Very excited to have another installment of have you been to…where friends of the letter offer an alternative to the sexy, difficult reservations you’re always hearing about. I’m particularly thrilled about this one—in part because Austin Tedesco has never once led me astray on a dining recommendation, and in part because HAGS has been on the top of my “want to go” list for a long time. This was the push I needed, and I think it’ll do the same for you.

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If I could impose squatter’s rights inside of one New York City restaurant forever, it would be The Four Horsemen. For over a decade, chef Nick Curtola’s little Williamsburg palace has established a perfect dining-out package.

Nick and his team chase seasonality, creativity, and an imitated-but-never-replicated point of view in their ever-changing menu. They do so without choosing between cheffy indulgence and bangers that make people happy. On a recent visit I chased oeuf mayo with veal sweetbread skewers with beans in brodo and parm—a procession of dishes good enough to justify how hard it is to make a reservation here. In each of Curtola’s creations, there is always one little twist of acid or spice or texture that makes the whole thing click. Inside the space, the vibes are immaculate. The wine is good. For this part of Brooklyn, the crowd hovers above passably hot.

This is exactly what the most discerning diners I know all want in a modern establishment. When they complain about the reservation apocalypse, they’re saying, essentially, “Ugh. I just want a fun plan that makes me feel good, but don’t make it a whole scene. The chef should be talented and interesting, but that shouldn’t come at the expense of crowd-pleasing food. Bring a point of view beyond martinis and fries, but don’t make me think too hard. It’s dinner. I just want to book a great dinner.”

You will not find any availability for the next 30 days at The Four Horsemen. To which I say, have you been to HAGS?

Telly Justice and Camille Lindsley opened this tiny East Village tasting menu spot in 2022. Billed “by Queer people, for all people,” it features six-course omnivore ($160) and vegan ($135) tasting menus, plus a pay-what-you-can Sunday brunch. HAGS almost never shows up on the big best-of lists, and few food-obsessed friends in my New York dining circles mention it as a place they’ve sought out. It succeeds exceedingly well at its mission, a mission that might inspire a mistaken, “Oh, I get it,” feeling from the previously uninitiated.

Telly leads a special, supportive, wildly talented kitchen that absolutely rips. I love the Southern cooking running through HAGS’ soul. This is not a Southern restaurant, but it’s one brimming with Southern flavor and Southern hospitality. You might find Anson Mills grits with porcini and chorizo powder, lobster boudin, okra barigoule, or Virginia peanut pilaf on Carolina Gold rice. Few things turn me off more than elevated Southern cosplay. Instead, Telly takes these influences and makes them her own. The end result is, simply, fucking amazing. On many nights, the vegan menu delivers even higher highs than the meaty counterpart.

HAGS is underrated enough for its food. Any ranking of New York’s five best chefs that’s missing Telly is suspect. But sit in this dining room for a couple hours and any tired restaurant slump will quickly be exorcised.

That energy carries beyond the food. One of the better parts of my thirties has been becoming knowledgeable about who is knowledgeable about wine, then putting myself in their expert hands. That’s especially true of Camille, one of New York hospitality’s true stars. She once put together a four-course, dessert-only wine pairing that was my most memorable dining experience of the year.

The very best restaurants ask you to do a little work to meet them on their terms. The slightest bit of risk taking. Saying yes more than you say no. Giving up a little control. At HAGS, that looks like digging into a main course featuring fresh, New England tempeh. Or firing off the whole brunch menu. Or merely convincing a friend that sliding in here on a Thursday night is a better move than chasing a new, hot table. Give HAGS a little and they’ll reward you a lot.

So, go. Go now. Get your shit together. The next time you’re scrolling through a Resy malaise, just book HAGS and turn yourself over to your best night in months.