Every opening act in Warsaw history might as well be named Why Don't You Go Eat Some Pierogis Instead? This is a valid point. In vivid contrast to the disquietude suggested by most concert-venue food (say, wan hot dogs that seem to have been transported to the venue inside a tour bus's exhaust pipe), the fabulous Williamsburg spot, as befitting a concert venue tucked inside the Polish National Home, offers such splendid nourishment as hunters' stew, kielbasa (dwarfed betwixt two pieces of Polish rye), blintzes, and potato pancakes. Ah, but the pierogis are the real draw, of the potato-and-cheese or mushroom-and-sauerkraut variety, soggy and greasy and wonderful, valiantly soaking up the alcohol in your system like a roll of paper towels thrown into a vat of wine. With a liberal dollop from the open container of sour cream lurking nearby (don't go nuts, though: a sour-cream overdose will profoundly cramp both your digestive system and your style), these suckers excellently pass the time, and may even tempt you to remain in the quasi-restaurant nook of the club as headliners like Wolf Parade or the Thermals or Camera Obscura or whoever are rockin'. Best opening act ever.