We missed brunch in Paris, trying to re-create it with courses of yogurt and muesli, pancakes, and some purchased croissants. It ended up looking more like Swedish breakfast. Our first week together in Brooklyn this fall, it was straight to brunch a few blocks from here.
Bellinis with maple, omelettes with squash and fresh cheese, biscuits and grits with it all, we were gladly American again.
As the months have passed, we've rarely branched out - who wants to travel further than a few blocks on a weekend morning (especially one peppered with snow or wind)?
Then I read on Tasting Table about a brunch place that had "reasonable" prices and took reservations. Somewhere in between the "house made labneh" and "home made biscuits with fresh ricotta, raw honey and preserves" I decided we would brave the slow Sunday F train to get there.
Early birds were there long before Belcourt opened, but despite the trek and snow flurries it met our highest expectations. Those biscuits were a definite, as well as the labneh, and Liam ordered Croque Madame while I had the salt cod hash with poached eggs and harissa pictured above.
It was like Paris - tarnished mirrors and tin bathroom walls and tight seating and harissa sprinkled in, but also with the luscious biscuits and ricotta and brunch feel that we missed.
I know, I know - it's been 8 months for me, and a few less for Liam - but we still feel really grateful for brunch. Even when it's not in Brooklyn.