Le Brunch

feast-worthy

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New Yorkers and brunch is like Alexis and almond milk lattes. Some kind of holy matrimony that penetrates deep beyond the surface, meshing like a goat cheese and fig crostini—yes, that epic of a grouping is the only way to describe it.

But brunch can mean anything from a stack of warm, buttery chocolate chip pancakes to umm…avocado toast. (I can’t help it, I think it’s a fetish, and I’m okay with it.)

First things first, Cookshop. Because this shakshuka situation was out of control yo. Except, I think I’m having an emergency situation because I just resorted back to the brunch menu to relive my eggsellent experience and I somehow don’t see this dish on the menu anymore. This is a catastrophe and I hope it’s a mistake, and next time I go there for brunch I will personally linger in the kitchen until someone can whip them up. I’ll let you know how that works for me, meanwhile you should do the same and keep me posted.

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Okay, The Fat Radish has finally been crossed off my list ( year later). I almost got an avocado toast because it was personally talking to me from it’s printed spot on the menu, even flirting with accessories like spicy eggs but…I convinced myself to try something else (even though I really wanted the avo), and ended up with the salmon crostini. It was very refreshing, felt pretty light (even though it had some crème fraiche, but for jean-buttoning sake, let’s pretend it didn’t.) The watercress and onions felt like they were plucked from the garden five minutes before landing on my plate—that fresh. We sat at the bar and the bartender was the shit. I would suggest snagging a seat at the bar if you are a party of two, or definitely make a reservation so you don’t eat the cookbooks that serve as décor in the entrance. They are stunning. Sorry this photo does absolutely no justice, you’ll have to go and inhale it for yourself…

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Lastly, a freaking avocado toast. I know, shut up. In the midst of apartment hunting in the LES, Ernie and I stumbled upon a little coffee shop named Rosella, which if I moved into the area, would probably be the extension of my apartment. Anyways, the avocado toast was epic. I’m on a mission here, and so far Little Collins is in the lead, but this one is definitely very, very close. I know this is easy to make at home. But the thick, grainy bread is just so good and I like eating it with my latte and I know you love it also and I also know I don’t need to justify, so let’s leave it at that so I can stop rambling.

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