Franklin Park

Photograph: David Rosenzweig

It’s boom times for beer gardens, with suds merchants popping up everywhere from Williamsburg (Radegast) to Coney Island (Beer Island). To this raucous roll call add Franklin Park, the 1,300-square-foot garden (a liberal definition for this tree-shaded concrete slab) that recently opened in nightlife-deprived Crown Heights. The spot was a grungy garage until Southpaw co-owner Matthew Roff sunk his mitts into FP’s industrial shell, fleshing out the raw indoors with dark-wood wainscoting, vibrant collages and a handsome, room-length oak bar adorned with vintage subway tiles. But the real scene is outside, where servers flutter among smoking-permitted picnic tables with canines curled beneath. A dozen drafts, from He’Brew’s crisp Coney Island Lager to Stone’s easy-sipping Pale Ale, constitute the beer offerings, a selection that doesn’t quite measure up to microbrew havens like Blind Tiger or Pacific Standard. Prices feel a bit steep for this bodega-dotted block. Pints are $6; $4 from 4 to 7pm nightly—an expense easy to justify in Manhattan, but less so on this gritty stretch. Stock wines and cocktails are available too, but you don’t dine at a steakhouse for the salad (on that note, there’s nary a snack at Franklin Park, but you can bring in takeout grub). Costliness notwithstanding, the rugged digs suit the diverse clientele just fine—couples share the space with tee-clad dudes and off-the-clock teachers. Their presence makes for crowded weekend nights, when acquiring a picnic table or a cool beer can feel like a contact sport. Avoid the clutch by coming for carefree weekdays and sunny afternoons, when you can cradle a pint and savor this surprising yet welcome addition to a burgeoning ’hood.

—TONY