Sept. 16 (Bloomberg) -- Meet the $13 milkshake, proof that Brooklyn can be just as overzealous as Manhattan.

Recall John Travolta’s bewilderment in “Pulp Fiction’’: “Did you just order a $5 shake? That’s a shake? That’s milk and ice cream...You don’t put bourbon in it or nothing?”

Well, at Brooklyn Bowl, it’s $13 and they do put bourbon in it. It’s not too thick, and has a hint of Nutella with a sweet whiskey sting. It’s actually darn good, but still. Just as a $32 burger is wrong no matter how much foie gras is stuffed inside, a $13 milkshake can’t be right. Leave my junk-food prices alone.

Such is the curious “bowling fare” served here in Williamsburg. Brooklyn Bowl is a 16-lane, flat-screen-TV-filled, 23,000-square-foot entertainment megaplex. It’s not an ESPN Zone, but with 100-decibel concerts, maybe it’s another Madison Square Garden.

Blue Ribbon does the grub. What began as a SoHo hangout where chefs ate late at night (before Momofuku existed) is now a mini-empire of sushi joints and brasseries in Manhattan and Brooklyn. It’s semi-famous for fried chicken even though it shouldn’t be, at least not here, where it’s under-salted and dry, with a crumbly, insubstantial crust.

Put your name down for a lane. And remember that bowling shoes ($4 rental) and socks, while fashionably optional in hipster Williamsburg, are de rigueur while bowling. My flip-flop and high-heeled troupe racked up $6 in sock purchases.

Use Handi Wipes

Social bowling is a retro pastime where eating fatty food and drinking alcohol are encouraged during competition. Throwing a 16-pound ball after a pitcher of beer is bad news, even when it’s the great stuff on tap here from Brooklyn Brewery or Sixpoint. But disco fries are good news: a massive, stinky heap slathered with provolone, cheddar and gravy. Improbably, the fries don’t turn mushy.

Barbecue wings are intensely smoky and sticky. This is why the menu states: “If dining at the lanes, we suggest that you eat with your non-bowling hand.” Brooklyn Bowl assumes its patrons are ambidextrous. I encountered barbecue-sauced balls on two occasions (my fault on one). Mark all beer pitchers because you share a table with the adjacent lane, so cross-pouring and accidental beer theft may occur.

While many new Brooklyn restaurants feel small and authentic, Brooklyn Bowl, with its $30 to $50 lane fees, feels more like Planet Hollywood transplanted from Times Square across the river. At the peak of summer, we encountered pallid tomatoes on a bland po’ boy, on an otherwise tasty BLT and on crunchy French bread pizza. The latter, a staple of after-school snacks in suburban homes, was a dead ringer for frozen varieties.

Comfort fare shouldn’t be an excuse for laziness. An obscenely sweet sloppy joe wasn’t much better than the canned variety. Knishes, a New York staple, were mushy, saccharine. A chocolate malted ($8) had no malt flavor; the egg cream ($5), one of Brooklyn’s official drinks, was inexcusably watery.

I bowled a 154. Maybe it’s because I sauced the ball.

The Star

If Blue Ribbon is pre-Momofuku, the Brooklyn Star, also in Williamsburg, is post-Momofuku. Chef Joaquin Baca used to be a partner in David Chang’s East Village empire. Still true to the Momo-way, he hawks high-brow riffs on low-brow fare (Southern soul food) at affordable prices in a tiny room (it’s banquettes as uncomfortable as church pews).

My first trip to the South resulted in pasta with barbecue sauce, so I was suspicious of that mahogany fluid on my oysters at the Star. I was wrong. They were perfect: a hint of sweet, a dash of acid, and a clean finish.

Dr Pepper

That’s not barbecue sauce on the ribs, it’s a sweet-sour Dr Pepper braising liquid. Pigs’ tails boast the tang of chili vinegar. Meatloaf sandwiches are a nourishing throwback: musty veal, pork and beef, a ketchup glaze, a bacon wrap, a layer of mashed potatoes and white bread.

Vegetables are king. That’s because they’re loaded with meat and cream. A tough, fatty pork chop is worth every penny; it comes with soft, porky collards, and sweet, buttery scalloped tomatoes. Chicken fried steak? Not my speed. I’ll just take the accompaniment: bacon-larded sour cabbage -- like the filling of a great egg roll. Spicy catfish is flanked by super-sweet summer creamed corn. Roast chicken, with a densely crisp skin, is one- upped by bacon, peach and pea-shoot-flecked rice, as al dente as risotto. The rice dish of the year.

Finish with deep-fried strawberries and watermelon juice.

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? About $50 per person at Bowl, $25 at Star.

Sound level? Intolerable at Bowl, moderate at Star.

Date place? Bowling is wholesome 1950s-style, first-date fun. Keep drinking.

Inside tip? Ideal meal at Bowl is fries, frozen margaritas and barbecue chicken wings. At Star, order everything.

Special feature? Even when packed, Bowl’s service is quick.

Private room? No.

Will I be back? More often to the Star.

Brooklyn Bowl is at 61 Wythe Ave. near North 11th. Information: +1-718-963-3369; http://www.brooklynbowl.com. The Brooklyn Star is at 33 Havemeyer St. near North 7th. Information: +1-718-599-9899; http://www.thebrooklynstar.com.

(Ryan Sutton writes about New York City restaurants for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this column: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: September 16, 2009 00:01 EDT