photo credit: Ilya Kagan
An Australian chef serving offal put this spirited spot—then called Bones—on the map almost a decade ago. Then, they replaced the “B” with “J” and it became a bit more, how shall we say, mainstream regarding animal parts. (Meaning there’s less pressure to eat veal brains or cow tongue.) They’ve hosted a range of chefs over the years, and while the general concept of small plates à partager has been maintained, there’s now an Italian in the kitchen cooking the likes of arancini with smokey scamorza and al dente paccheri smothered in meat sauce and grated parmesan.
The place is always packed, with two services and seats at the bar for diners who can’t commit to either. Service is very j’arrive (a.k.a “I’ll get to you when I can”) but still helpful—they’ll suggest you eat the caper leaf you left on the side of your plate so you don’t miss out on any tasty bites. The wine selection is predominantly natural, and they also do great cocktails, including a negroni sbagliato with pet nat.
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