You all know my feelings on brunch, so really, this post should be titled Sunday Lunch. But, semantics, whatever, right? And in all fairness, the meal event to which I am referring was so very much a New York brunch that I'm prepared to call it brunch, despite it happening at the distinctly lunch-y hour of 12:30pm. Yesterday was an icily cold day, as I discovered to my consternation as my friend Angela and I shivered in the line outside Good Enough to Eat, an Upper West Side restaurant distinctive for its white picket fenced courtyard and the mass of people usually hiding that white picket fence from view. It's a popular place (as evidenced by the mass of people outside its cosy environs) and usually I'd be tempted to suggest moving onto somewhere with less of a line, but that way lies inferior food. I'd rather get frostbite, as long as I also get a great meal, and it would seem I'm not the only one.
So after a not-too-torturous 20 minute wait or so, we squeezed in and started the Ritual Annoyance Of The Waiter, in which I hold up our order by refusing to stop talking long enough to allow anyone to get a decent look at the menu, and then become absolutely incapable of deciding what I want to eat. This is always a particular problem at brunch, when I vacillate hopelessly between the sweet option and the savoury option, terrified of making the wrong decision and ruining the rest of the day*. This decision was particularly fraught yesterday, as it was (oddly) the only time I ate out all weekend, and therefore felt of more import than ever.
Usually I go savoury, because it just feels more right to me, and this time was no exception:
Good Enough to Eat is one of those awesome places that solves the problem for you by throwing some extras into your average savoury breakfast. Above is a BLT omelette (without the L, because that wouldn't work) and next to it, some American biscuits, which are kind of like a scone, but much lighter and flakier. Then next to those is a little pottle of amazingness, aka strawberry butter. I never had this, or, for that matter, any other fruit butters, before moving to the US - I don't know if it's solely a US thing, or whether I was just sorely uneducated, but it is AMAZING. I can't even describe how good it is. And - and - it's just sweet enough to make me not regret going for the omelette over the pumpkin pancakes**.
I tore into it after taking a couple of quick photos, therefore continuing my Ritual Annoyance Of The Waiter, who surely thought I was a tourist after that. Thankfully, Angela is a blogger too, so completely understood:
So yes. Yes, the wait was worth it. Yes, the frostbite was worth it***. Yes, it was very much Good Enough to Eat - and, for that matter, quite enough to eat. Dinner got skipped yesterday as brunch ('brunch') kept me going all day, therefore making it brinner, I guess. We'll stick with brunch though, for simplicity's sake. On this point, New York, I bow to you. YOU WIN. Brunch it is, typical brunch hours be damned.
*My problems are small yet significant, yes.
**Well, almost. I do see pumpkin pancakes in my near future.
***May not have actually happened.