Mekelburg's — Restaurant in New York

Mekelburg food is fine but this review is about THE WORST SERVICE I have experienced in Williamsburg. EMBARRASED - then QUESTIONED- then HARASSED BY STAFF in front of my child! My husband and son needed to use the restroom and my husband went to open the door for him. The bathroom has a code and says customers only. We ate at the vegan restaurant that is at the from of Mekelburg in the jointing space. After my husband opened the door the host of Mekelburg(a middle age heavy set woman) had the audacity to run over and question my husband for proof that he was a paying customer. In a snarky voice she said " paying customers only" Upon which my husband said " We ate at the cafe at the front" and provided proof of the digital receipt. The woman then rushed over to question the server at the cafe to question our word -How embarrassing! She then scolded the server at the front cafe for allowing us to use the bathroom saying loudly " now I have a line of people waiting for the bathroom!". The bathroom had NO LINE when my husband walked over to let my son in. Upon him using it a line formed of two woman and then another woman who came from outside. Although I heard her say this I let it go but it made my son very uncomfortable and he was afraid to now use the bathroom. I understand he need to make sure the bathroom is not used by non paying customers but to question our proof? and THEN as we were leaving in a horrible rude and condescending voice she said "Byyyyeee" SO I turned around and told her that her attitude is un called for and she said " what I just said Bye" and I told her how I witnessed and heard her go to the server to question them if we were in-fact paying customers. As a community member of Williamsburg since 2001, booth living and working in Williamsburg, as someone who isnt a transplant but a Native Nyer her behavior is uncalled for. I used to order food from Mekelburg for our house parties, but I will never support such a place anymore who allows the face of their restaurant be lead by a woman like her. You can not treat people based on assumptions with rude behavior. Mekelburg do yourself a favor a hire a new host because I am sure I am not the first family or persons she has spoken...

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ I came to Mecklenburg’s expecting a cute little dinner. I left questioning the meaning of life, clutching my stomach, and whispering “I deserve the Babka.”

Appetizers, Round One (yes, there were rounds): We started with Mike’s honey wings and wasabi scallion wings, both roughly the size of a human face. The honey ones were sweet, sticky, and borderline erotic. The wasabi ones? I saw God. Spicy. Emotional. Cleared my sinuses and some childhood trauma.

Then came clam chowder disco fries with oysters on top, because apparently this place was built on chaos and genius. Imagine fries, then imagine soup on top, then imagine oysters vibing casually. It shouldn’t work. It does. My ancestors felt it.

Also had yucca fries somewhere in the middle of all this. I don’t remember eating them, but I remember loving them. A blur of fried excellence.

Appetizers, Round Two (don’t judge): Brunch burger with a vegan bun (mistake) and bacon (unapologetically necessary). Note to future me: life’s too short for vegan buns. Get the gluten. Embrace the pain.

Main Course Mayhem: We got the Sunday burrito, which was buried in some sort of magic green sauce I couldn’t identify and didn’t question. And then came Abuela’s half chicken, which felt like a warm hug from someone who calls you “mijo” and makes sure you’re full even after you say “I’m good.” Perfection.

Also had a provolone sandwich with whiz—not Wiz Khalifa but it did elevate me. Gooey, melty, unnecessary in the best possible way.

Drinks: The Aperol spritz slapped. The painkiller almost had me texting my ex. 10/10 would sip recklessly again.

Final thoughts: This wasn’t a meal. It was an experience. A spiritual awakening in sauce form. And if I don’t receive a complimentary Babka after writing this masterpiece, I will spiral publicly....

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ When you step into Mekelburg’s, it’s as though the red neon lights whisper, “Welcome home,” while the zebra print wallpaper roars, “But not too comfortably.” This is no ordinary dining experience—it’s a kaleidoscope of whimsy, nostalgia, and culinary brilliance tucked away across the street from Domino Ice Skating Park. Yes, that park—the one with the view so beautiful it feels like a painter tipped their palette over Brooklyn.

But let’s talk about Alicia. Our server wasn’t just a guide through the menu; she was a beacon of charm, her smile brighter than the neon glow. She spoke of the menu with the reverence of someone recounting a favorite love story, her recommendations precise and personal. We followed her lead and found ourselves lost in something extraordinary.

The Babka. Oh, the Babka. A dessert so decadent it felt like it had been kissed by every grandparent in the old country. Sweet but not cloying, rich but not overbearing, it is the kind of dessert that inspires poems, toasts, and maybe even tears of joy. And yes, I cried—but only a little, and only because Alicia brought it out with such pride that I swore I could hear a choir faintly singing in the distance.

By the time the check came, I realized Mekelburg’s is not just a restaurant—it’s a love letter to everything good in life. The food is poetry, the atmosphere a novel, and the people—like Alicia—the punctuation that makes it all sing. So come for the view, stay for the Babka, and leave with a heart full of red neon light and zebra print dreams.

Mekelburg’s isn’t just a place to eat; it’s a place to feel. Thank you for...