Cibao Diner Express

Clustered around the Brooklyn Navy Yard there is a high density of breakfast & lunch only Dominican «diners» that make their business off the working-​class and the occasional out-​of-​work Brooklyn hipster looking for lunch under $ 5. I would argue that these diners offer a distinct type of cuisine, discrete even from the food at other Dominican restaurants who stay open later and cater to a wider variety of clientele by also offering actual menu items prepared to order in a kitchen. The Dominican diners of the Navy Yard are the proletariat cousin the buffet delis in Midtown and Wall Street, focusing on 2 regularly timed waves of customers for maximum profit margin.
It is by its very nature then that the food at Cibao is wildly hit or miss and best avoided after 3PM. Daily specials usually run out well before what may would consider lunchtime. Keep in mind the customer-​base are those working the daybreak shift at one of the nearby warehouses and they are taking the B57 bus home when most Pratt students are getting up. Cibao caters to the blue-​collar dollar with recession-​proof prices and portions to fill the hungry stomaches of those that lift heavy un-​marked boxes from China all day long for a living. As is the custom, food is served from a hot buffet table, which at Cibao can at times seem a bit neglected by the perpetually frantic kitchen staff. Still when the kitchen is «on», Cibao is arguably the best of its ilk, knocking out the staples like fluffy and flavorful yellow rice, deeply seasoned red beans and not overly greasy tostones with a breezy panache. Lunch highlights include the Bacalao (available Fridays) and the Oxtail (Wednesdays??). One lamentably «off «dish is the far too dry roast chicken, which is available everyday. If ordering poultry go with spaghetti con pollo, a stewed variation served with pasta noodles in a thick red sauce with green olives. The breakfast is especially consistent. The superb mangu, the backbone of any good Dominican breakfast, is recommended with a hearty slice of fried salami.
The décor is darker and a bit more saloon-​like then the simple utilitarian starkness favored by other diners in the area. The grungy interior fits the location directly next to an auto yard complete with menacing guard dog. The scene is rounded out the the regulars who man the front tables playing dominos and sipping cold Presidente. Maybe that’s the most consistent thing about Cibao, the Presidente is always ice cold.

I had passed Cibao a zillion times while heading to or from work, but never thought it was actually in business. It’s super run down, the epitome of hole in the wall. I was talking to a coworker and he mentioned it, so I figured I’d check it out.
I walked in and in the display area there was a juicy looking, shiny mound of pernil. I pointed. I received. Got it with rice and some «gravy», aka the sauce of the beef stew that was sitting next to the pernil. In addition I ordered some totstones, which they made fresh for me. This petite and slender girl pounded away at the plantains with this crazy mallet, and produced a GIGANTIC container filled with tostones. She gave me a cup of garlic and oil with it and OMG. Death. I feel my arteries clogging as we speak.
I looked around and knew that I had to get this stuff to go. I would just feel a little creeped out eating in. The back room is filled with ancient formica, a mammoth video game from the 80’s, and is very poorly lit. It kind of looks like there is a dusting of grime over everything, but I am hoping it’s just the lack of light that creates this effect.
The pernil was delicious… up to a certain point. I wasn’t going to be able to finish my serving, so I consider it fortune that I bit into a bit that was kind of off.
If I can figure out a way to keep the garlic from emanating from my body I will be going back to Cibao SOON. Who am I kidding? I want to eat those tostones every day of my life.