Walk into 210 Smith Street on a Tuesday night around 7:00 PM. You’ll hear it before you see the mahogany. It’s that specific low hum of a hundred distinct conversations bouncing off tin ceilings, punctuated by the rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of a Boston shaker. This is Clover Club Brooklyn. It’s not a speakeasy. There’s no secret password, no fake phone booth, and nobody is going to lecture you on the "correct" way to drink gin.
Honestly? It’s just a bar. But it’s the bar that basically taught every other modern cocktail lounge how to grow up.
When Julie Reiner opened the doors in 2008, the neighborhood was different. The "cocktail renaissance" was still a bit precious and, frankly, a little annoying. You had places in Manhattan where bartenders acted like chemists and guests felt like they were intruding on a private ritual. Reiner changed the vibe. She took the rigor of the Rainbow Room and Flatiron Lounge and dumped it into a cozy, wood-paneled room in Cobble Hill. She made the "Clover Club Brooklyn" experience about hospitality first, and the drinks—while technically perfect—became the supporting act to a great night out.
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The Drink That Started a Revolution (Again)
You can’t talk about this place without talking about its namesake. The Clover Club is a pre-Prohibition classic: gin, dry vermouth, lemon, raspberry syrup, and egg white. For decades, it was a forgotten relic. People thought egg whites in drinks were weird or dangerous.
They weren't.
At Clover Club Brooklyn, they perfected the "dry shake." That’s the technique where you shake the ingredients without ice first to emulsify the egg white, creating that silk-on-the-tongue texture. It’s pink. It’s served in a coupe. It’s unapologetically elegant. But here’s the thing—it’s also a powerhouse of a drink. It’s balanced. It isn’t "sweet" in the way people fear.
The menu is famously organized by style rather than base spirit. You’ll find sections like "Royals" (effervescent, champagne-topped), "Smashes and Juleps," and "Punches." This isn't just a design choice; it’s a masterclass in guest psychology. Most people don’t know they want a gin drink; they know they want something "refreshing and crisp" or "boozy and stirred." By categorizing drinks this way, the staff removes the barrier of entry for someone who might feel intimidated by a thirty-item list.
Why the Room Matters
Most modern bars feel like they were designed by a Pinterest board. They’ve got the Edison bulbs. They’ve got the exposed brick. Clover Club feels lived-in because it is.
The front room is all energy. It’s where you go to be seen, to lean against the long bar, and to watch the "theatre" of the pour. But if you keep walking, you hit the back room. The fireplace. The leather banquettes. It feels like a library where someone replaced all the books with rare bourbon.
Tom Macy, a long-time partner and veteran behind the stick, has often spoken about the "Goldilocks" zone of bar lighting and sound. If it’s too quiet, people whisper. If it’s too loud, they scream. Clover Club sits right in that sweet spot where you can have a deep, soul-searching conversation about your failing relationship while the person three feet away is celebrating a promotion. It’s democratic.
That fireplace isn't just for show, either. During a Brooklyn blizzard, there is genuinely no better place on earth. You order a "Hot Buttered Rum" or a "Tom & Jerry"—a classic milk-punch-style drink that most bars are too lazy to make because it requires a specific, house-made batter—and you just... exist.
The "Julie Reiner" Effect
If you want to understand why the quality hasn't dipped in nearly two decades, you have to look at the lineage. Reiner is often called the "grandmother" of the New York cocktail scene, which is a bit of a funny title for someone who is still very much at the top of her game.
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She didn't just build a bar; she built a school.
Check the resumes of the best bartenders in the world. A massive chunk of them spent time at Clover Club Brooklyn. Ivy Mix, who went on to open Leyenda across the street, started here. It’s a culture of precision. If a raspberry is slightly overripe, the syrup doesn't get made. If the ice isn't clear, it doesn't go in the glass.
But Reiner’s real genius was hiring for personality. She famously looked for people who actually liked people. You can teach a smart person to make a Negroni in a week. You can't teach someone to care that your day was garbage.
The Food is Actually... Good?
We’ve all been to those "cocktail bars" where the food is an afterthought. A bowl of stale nuts. A sad, sweaty cheese plate.
Clover Club went the other way.
The menu leans into elevated Americana. You’ve got the deviled eggs, sure, but they’re seasoned with a level of intent that makes you wonder why you ever settled for the ones at the family potluck. The burger is a sleeper hit. It’s a double-patty situation that doesn't try to be "gourmet" with truffle oil or foie gras. It’s just high-quality beef, good cheese, and a bun that doesn't disintegrate under the pressure of the juices.
And let’s talk about brunch.
Going to a world-class cocktail bar for brunch feels like a cheat code. While everyone else is waiting two hours for mediocre mimosas at some "brunch spot," you’re sitting in a leather booth drinking a "Bloody Bull"—a Bloody Mary beefed up with bouillon—and eating brioche French toast. It’s civil. It’s the most "adult" way to spend a Saturday morning in Kings County.
Addressing the "Snobbery" Myth
There’s a persistent idea that places like Clover Club Brooklyn are elitist. Maybe it’s the bowties. Maybe it’s the fact that they use three different types of ice.
But that’s a misconception.
True snobbery is gatekeeping. Clover Club is the opposite. If you walk in and ask for a vodka soda, the bartender will make you the best vodka soda you’ve ever had. They might use a high-quality sparkling water with a specific mineral content. They’ll use a fresh, hand-cut lime wedge. They won't roll their eyes.
The complexity is there if you want it, but it’s never forced on you. If you want to nerd out about the specific botanical profile of a rare Old Tom Gin, they are happy to go down that rabbit hole with you. But if you just want something cold and fizzy while you wait for your dinner reservation at Lucali, they’ve got you.
The Logistics: What You Need to Know
Don't just show up at 9:00 PM on a Saturday and expect to walk into a booth. It doesn't work like that.
- Timing: Go early. Between 5:00 PM and 6:30 PM is the "Golden Hour." You’ll get a seat at the bar. You can actually talk to the bartender.
- The Back Room: This is often reserved for events or opens later in the evening. If it's open, grab it. It’s one of the most romantic spots in the city.
- The Punch: If you’re with a group of four or more, order a punch bowl. It’s how people drank in the 1800s, and it’s honestly the most social way to drink. It comes with a beautiful ladle and vintage-style cups. It makes the table feel like a party.
- The Neighborhood: Smith Street is a gauntlet of great spots, but Clover Club is the anchor.
Why We Still Care in 2026
In an era where every second bar is an "Instagrammable" pop-up with neon signs and drinks that taste like liquid candy, Clover Club feels like an oak tree. It’s sturdy. It’s reliable.
They aren't chasing trends. You won't find a "deconstructed espresso martini" with smoke bubbles here unless there’s a damn good reason for it. They stick to the fundamentals of the craft: temperature, dilution, and balance.
Is it the cheapest place to drink in Brooklyn? No. You’re going to pay $18 to $22 for a cocktail. But you’re paying for the labor of the prep—the hours spent hand-peeling lemons and clarifying juices—and the expertise of someone who has dedicated years to the art of the pour.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
To get the most out of your Clover Club Brooklyn experience, follow this specific blueprint:
- Start with the namesake. Even if you think you don't like gin or egg whites. The "Clover Club" drink is the benchmark. If you don't like theirs, you don't like the category.
- Engage the "Dealer's Choice." If it's not too busy, tell the bartender two spirits you like and one flavor profile (e.g., "Rye and Amaro, but make it bitter and stirred"). The staff's internal knowledge of classic specs is vast.
- Check the Seasonal Menu. They rotate drinks frequently. If there’s a fruit or herb in season, it’s probably in a syrup on that menu.
- Order the fries. Seriously. They’re triple-cooked and served with a lemon-garlic aioli that is borderline addictive.
- Look at the Ice. Notice the difference between the crushed ice in the julep and the large, clear cube in the Old Fashioned. It’s not just for aesthetics; it’s about controlling how fast the drink melts.
Clover Club isn't trying to reinvent the wheel anymore. It already did that years ago. Now, it’s just busy being the best version of a bar that Brooklyn has ever seen. It’s a place that honors the past without being stuck in it, which is a harder balancing act than any drink they've ever stirred.
Next Steps for the Savvy Drinker
If you’ve conquered Clover Club, your next logical move is to head down the block to Leyenda. It was co-founded by Julie Reiner and Ivy Mix, focusing on spirits from Latin America. It’s the "sister bar" that swaps the mahogany and gin for vibrant tiles and mezcal, proving that the Clover Club lineage is as much about diversity as it is about tradition. If you want to understand the full scope of the Brooklyn cocktail scene, you have to see both sides of that coin.