What? Where?

The leaves on the tree outside my window are starting to change, and I’ve started to wrap up my ears to make the bike crossing over the Manhattan Bridge.

In the past few years I’ve viewed these changes with mixed feelings. Though I enjoy the change of seasons, I’m not a holiday person and I watch the approach of December with the same kind of dread usually reserved for invading armies.

But this year is different. For the first time since I moved to New York ten years ago, I live in a place where I know that worst case scenario, I’ll get to spend time with some lovely people, having some lovely meals.

I moved to prime Battle Hill in May, and since then have had the pleasure of meeting lots of great neighbors, have some of the best coffee and pizza in town (not in the same place), enjoyed the smell of freshly baked bread in the morning, listened to some kick-ass live Blue Grass paired with 25c shots, had excellent house-cured bacon, and had some fun during the infamous penny beer Fridays.

You haven’t heard of Battle Hill?

Tucked away by the cemetery, it’s too far south to the be South Slope – regardless of what realtors will tell you – too far west to be Windsor Terrace, and not quite Sunset Park.

The lines were drawn over bourbon and beer, and run roughly like from 4th Ave to 7th Ave, 15th Street to 25th, but they might change according to our whims.

We drew the lines, but we didn’t make it up. The neighborhood was already there, distinct and with its own flavor, just waiting to be named. And Battle Hill is its geographical and historical name. So there.

This is a collaborative blog with several contributors, including Minerva who writes from her pedestal at the top of Battle Hill. Yeah, the actual Battle Hill – scene of the Battle of Long Island. She probably won’t be reviewing the coffee shops and bars, tell us what she did last Saturday night, or share her thoughts on her commute, but the rest of us might.

We’re seceding from Park Slope, and we’re making it up as we go.