In a Jiffy :: Franklin Park

The jiffy lube embodies so very many things: a sex act at breakneck speed, a twelve-dollar cocktail with peanut butter and Red Bull, an awkwardly open vat of lotion on the bedside table… At Franklin Park, though, the jiffy lube here is an upscale bar, prepping Clinton Hill for the slick and speedy caress of snowballing gentrification.

Situated in a former garage shop on the still-multicultural St. Johns Place, Franklin Park is the Genesis of Clinton Hill gentrification, and the guiding light is Southpaw co-owner and Galapagos / Natural Selection-transformer Matt Roff. From its country estate entrance (with the gold door plaque and high walls, no less), the space calls out to the neighborhood (or to those who can afford to listen, anyway), “Let there be a garden bar! And let it be good.”

And so it is. In fact, Franklin Park is even worth a commute from our city’s more up-market neighborhoods. But part of the Franklin Park allure is its existence as an oasis in deserted lands. The trip itself is a bit of an adventure, taking aspiring drinkers past government housing projects, actual garage shops, and an array of street entertainment and/or social woes, depending on the hour. Once inside, a patio garden of picnic benches, beautiful trees, and dappled sunlight awaits – the ideal outdoor bar for a Coney Island lager ($5/pint) on a summer’s afternoon.

Past the reflective raised garage door, the space transforms again into a Grease Lighting graphic creation – half music video bar, half 1950s repair shop. Crisp subway titles spell out FRANKLIN PARK along the bar, grayscale sports-centered blowups adorn the black and white cinderblock walls, and a long leather banquette is punctuated by eight demure, dark wood cocktail tables. Perhaps it’s more Grease Lightening by way of the super-vintage Soda Fountain Shop – but again, though studied and deliberate, the bar succeeds, beautiful on the inside and out, and, come cooler weather and weekend nights, packed with patrons through and through.

While there’s no kitchen at Franklin Park, the bar policy is warmly Bring Your Own Food and is embraced by the laidback mix of young nearly-locals that fill the space with engaging conversation and palpable gratitude at having a space like this so close to home.

And what of the drinks? In terms of options, Franklin Park delivers. With twelve beers on tap and nearly as many in bottles, the bar offers everything from Framboise Lambic ($9/bottle) to Avery ESB ($6/pint) to Pork Slap ($4/can). Wines are sold by the glass ($6-9) and the bottle (all under $32). Cocktails, though, are the serious business of the bar. Wonder what Franklin Park really tastes like? Well, order the drink ($10), a conversation-provoking blend of bourbon, prosecco and St. Germain served straight up in a martini glass. Be warned, though – this is not the land of speakeasies or bartending flair. More often than not, the bartenders here were almost comically flummoxed. So flummoxed it’s tempting to offer up the age old pick-up line, “So, you come here often?”

And that, you know, is a whole other jiffy lube of conversation.

FRANKLIN PARK :: 618 St. Johns Place at Franklin Ave., Brooklyn, New York