Sunday in Brooklyn is hotter than Manhattan was in February. Located in the eye of Williamsburg, the restaurant envelops its patrons in a cozy lodge like feel as soon as they step through its doors. This past Wednesday, Skylar (“Freshmen15”) and I arrived at Sunday In Brooklyn for an early evening dinner. We were seated at a granite corner table onlooking Wythe Ave - the restaurant was already alive. Quickly downing our glasses of soft Winter Rosé and slowly forgetting what day of the week it was, our eyes zig-zagged up and down our menus as if we were crash studying for an Econ. exam. Sunday In Brooklyn’s dinner menu is broken up into three parts: snacks, appetizers, and entrées. Naturally, we started with snacks, splitting the “Toasted Buns, Oyster Cream.” This course consisted of rich oyster cream cocooned in hand-made dough that is baked on-location. The appetizer that followed deserves recognition from Michelin Guide itself. Rustic baked bread with sour cream and an assortment of pickled vegetables flanked the fillet. Found on the plate, disguised under a layer of pastrami, was the most delectable Cod I’ve ever had the pleasure of melting in my mouth. My entrée, “Minute Steak - Ribeye, Treviso, Charred Red Onions” was not reflective of Sunday’s greatness. Cutting through the steak searching for red meat in a sea of fat was reminiscent of playing the board game “Operation” as a child. Luckily, Freshmen15 ordered “Sea Trout, Carolina Potatoes, Clams, Sea Lettuce, Buttered Potato Dashi, Bay Leaf Oil,” which she was kind enough to let me raid. To the right of the red fish, underneath a sea of lettuce canopy roasted potatoes rested on deliciously chunky clam sauce. The masterfully prepared components of the meal crescendoed in my mouth drowning out my thoughts on the subpar minute steak. Sunday does not neglect their dessert menu; the “Warm Devil’s Food Cake, Peanut Ice Cream, Cocoa Nib Praline” was a flavor rollercoaster of satisfaction. Our dinner was topped off with two espressos served in ornately decorated porcelain. I couldn’t, even if I fried, to not think about the rest of that amazing menu as I hopped in my Uber.