Cool NYC companies: Behind-the-scenes at Brooklyn restaurant Littleneck

Co-owner Aaron Lefkove on the origins of Littleneck: “We were just standing in Andy’s backyard, having a barbecue. We talked about how I wasn’t really happy with what I was doing. And [Andy was] like, ‘Yeah, I’m not really happy either.’ We started coming up with this small little flash of inspiration and we were literally, like, making plans over a grill.”

“It’s so hard to afford things in New York,” says co-owner Andy Curtin of decorating and building the space. Instead of looking for high-priced items in the city, he salvaged materials from Massachusetts, Maryland and other nearby states—these stools, for instance, came from a closed biker bar in Asbury Park, New Jersey. “Trust me, they’re clean and refinished,” he laughs. “The owner tried to sell me a Jacuzzi while I was in there, too.”

Server and Gowanus resident Bailey Saliwanchik has been working at Littleneck since the day it opened. “They’re fun to work for because they haven’t really dealt with a restaurant, so they’re not uptight,” she says. And there’s, refreshingly, “zero micromanagement,” she adds. “I’ve worked for people that have been in the business for, you know, 25 years. This is a much more relaxed, fun environment.”

Littleneck’s chef, Joe Aponte, shares this story about his lightning-fast hiring: “I was working at the Gowanus Yacht Club. And Alan Harding [Littleneck’s original chef and current partner in the Pines] comes in one day and goes, ‘Hey, you’re a cook, right?’ And I go, ‘Yeah, I’ve cooked in a few nice places.’ And he goes, ‘I’ve got this place I’m going to be the chef at; do you want to come be my sous chef?’ And I go, ‘Yeah, sure. When does that start?” And he goes, ‘Right after this is over.’ And so I came in here and met the owners, and that was it. Love at first sight.”

When Littleneck’s original chef, Alan Harding, left to supervise construction on the Pines, Aponte was promoted to head chef. He likes that his role here is more hands-on than he’s experienced at other restaurants. “Everything happens back here: prep, service,” he says of Littleneck’s tiny kitchen.

“Where Littleneck is of the sea, the Pines is of the land,” says Lefkove of the duo’s new venture, the menu for which will rotate almost daily. “It’s sort of an adventurous, progressive take on meats, cheeses and market vegetables. We’re rolling our own pasta, curing our own salami.” Curtin and Lefkove anticipate an opening date of September.

Many of the nautical knickknacks that make up Littleneck’s decor are from the turn of the century. “Andy would go to a lot of salvage places and shipyards, and he would find pieces like this rope,” says Lefkove.

An old oyster rig was fashioned into a stylish lamp.

“[The daily specials] have really become a focal point of our business,” says Lefkove. These dishes depend upon the ingredients that arrive during each day’s deliveries. “We don’t have a basement, so we really only have enough storage space to bring in product for the day,” explains Curtin.

A batch of that evening’s oysters. “Nothing has come out of the canal,” says Lefkove with a laugh, noting the restaurant’s close proximity to the Superfund-designated Gowanus Canal.

“This Billy Joel record was reclaimed from a dollar bin at a record store,” says Lefkove of the LP that often lies on a shelf above the serving station. “So [cooks] only work under Billy Joel,” says Curtin with a laugh.

A sign above the bar details the craft brews on draft and where that day’s oysters were caught.

Littleneck’s exterior.