BLOODY MARIE
Vodka, old bay, dijon,
herbesdeprovence, horseradish

Lafayette is a posh, spacious French café and bakery in NoHo that needs your attention.

There are many lovely attributes I could mention but I must single out the one reason you must go here and you must go here NOW.

Those lemon swear word pancakes.

“I don’t do sweets for breaky” you might say (if you were Australian) or “I’m more of an egg bloke” (if you were a Brit).

Screw all that! I know consuming pancakes in the morning is the surest way to an afternoon death but listen closely, my friends.

This death would be worth it.

These pancakes are the best pancakes I’ve ever had.

So good, I didn’t feel the need to diminish the statement with an exclamation point. I did feel, as you may have noticed, it vital to perform a little “bold” action. I had no choice.

My friend decided he wasn’t very hungry, so he chose one of the appetizers (which he loved). A quite substantial portion of steak tartare. Not my first choice for breaky (mate) but to each his own…raw meat.

I’ve also heard the chocolate banana croissants are pretty delish, but they were not in stock when we showed up. Not that I needed one after that carbohydrate frenzy. The waitress really saved me from myself.

Service was friendly, the Bloody Marie cocktail was absolutely gorgeous and the interiors were very “French Café” meets “The Size of 5 French Cafes” (because it was large). Spacious restaurants are a rarity in NYC, so if you’re craving a little breathing room, have a booth fetish or just have a large (polite, quiet) group, Lafayette is for you.

380 Lafayette St
New York, NY 10003
b/t 4th St & Great Jones St in NoHo
(212) 533-3000
lafayetteny.com

ALL PICTURES TAKEN WITH AN iPHONE

Prime Beef Tartare “NewOrleans”, tabasco aioli, quail egg

Lemon Pancakes with fresh berries

MOROCCAN SCRAMBLE
$13
merguez sausage, scrambled eggs w/ spiced chickpeas, crushed avocado & grilled sourdough

Five Leaves is probably THE most popular brunch spot in Brooklyn. And they don’t take reservations.

This means really long waits. The kind of long wait, where the hostess rolls her eyes and sighs before you even open your mouth to tell her how many in your party because she KNOWS you’re gonna freak out and she’s already over your bullshit.

Today, our wait was to be 1.5 hours. My dining companion didn’t appear equipped to handle this kind of bad news. Then, she had a brainstorm. We could peruse a nearby thrift store in the meantime.

Crisis averted.

The snow had started coming down heavily, and blanketed Greenpoint quite nicely as we slipped and slid our way to the thrift store.

Now, I don’t know what kind of thrift stores you had in your home town growing up, but I’m used to something substantially different than what I happened upon, this wintry morning.

First of all, the smells are all the same. Thrift stores stink. It’s a fact. No matter how much you Frebreze that shit.

I grew up buying cool vintage shirts for $1.99 and Led Zeppelin records for half that. As time went on, I monitored the increase in prices and when I finally moved from Seattle to Los Angeles, costs had doubled. $10 bucks for someone’s stinky, threadbare throwaways became the norm.

This is also around the same time I had the epiphany that I preferred to wear new clothing and, so I left my thrift store legacy behind.

Now, I know I haven’t been to one of these stores in a while and I knew as soon as I stepped inside that this place was Trendy, USA. I mean, they have a shop dog. A cute Chihuahua who I fell in love with.

But that didn’t really make up for the outrageous prices.

The good news about this store is all the merchandise appeared to be the “good stuff”. None of Marcia Brady’s hand-me-downs or 80’s Bill Cosby sweaters.

For that service, however, you’ll pay dearly. My friend ended up buying a used blouse for $50! My jacket set me back about $25 but jackets have a longer shelf life than some stinky shirt who’s front I’ll eventually cover in various artisan mustards.

We finally headed back to Five Leaves to see if our table was ready. It was not.

We hung out in the corner, while my friend began to panic that we would be seated by the door. This is, indeed, exactly where we were seated.

I was fine with it because my stomach began to audibly voice it’s confusion of why it was not completed filled to the gills by now.

I started with a bloody mary which was quite nice. Very traditional, with a nice horseradish kick.

I then ordered the Moroccan Scramble, which I dubbed “Cilantro City”. Not officially, or anything. In fact, I didn’t even say to my friend “Woah, look at all that cilantro, friend!”

In fact, cilantro was not discussed at any point during our meal.

My point is, you’re going to need cilantro to be your most very favoritest herb in the world, in order to like this dish. For me, cilantro is up there on my list, so I quite enjoyed it.

Fluffy eggs, Merguez sausage, chickpeas and red chiles piled high on this really nice, crusty piece of avocado toast.

Avocado toast is everywhere these days. I’m sure 7-11 will start carrying it next to those satanic, stuffed Dorito things. And I’m fine with that. It’s a tasty treat.

Just don’t charge me $14 bucks for it. It’s toast and $1 worth of avocado. It should cost $6 maximum….but never does.

In this case, you get a heck of a lot of accoutrements with your avocado toast. Meaning, a shit load of eggs and, of course, cilantro. Cilantro City, in fact.

My companion ordered the Ricotta Pancakes with fresh berries but the best part was that incredible honeycomb butter. So good! Highly recommended if you’re in a sweet mood and have the remainder of the afternoon free for the inevitable sugar crash.

18 Bedford Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11222
b/t Nassau Ave & Lorimer St in Greenpoint
Phone number (718) 383-5345
fiveleavesny.com

ALL PICTURES TAKEN WITH AN iPHONE

Connie Britton digging through her purse. Probably.

Bloody Mary

RICOTTA PANCAKES
$13
w/ honeycomb butter, banana, blueberries, strawberries & served with 100% pure maple syrup

The Innards of the Moroccan Scramble

Slice of the Grandma Pie

Following NYC foodies on Instagram can be a dangerous thing. One moment, I’m scrolling past a picture of the world’s most perfect looking pizza and the next, I’m scarfing down that very same pizza.

Once I get something in my head, I have to get it in my belly. It’s that simple.

Today’s obsession was that pepperoni pizza I just teased you about.

I know at the time you were all, like, “What kind of pizza, Bun Boy??”

Well, I just told you. It’s pepperoni. So just relax.

Pepperoni has never been my go-to topping. They’re just tiny grease boats; mini cauldrons of bubbling fat. It’s just so unsightly. Now, I’m not saying that I consider pizza to be lite fare, by any means. I just don’t like it so in-your-face.

I prefer sausage, where the fat is discretely hidden inside. Sausage had suffered a lot of fat shaming in its youth and learned to keep a low profile. It usually just sits there, all fat and ashamed.

Pepperoni is a fat, slob that doesn’t care who sees. If pepperoni wore shirts, his shirt would be really tight, stained and rise up, showing his jelly roll. Sausage prefers to wear a nice, loose-fitting track suit.

So, I’m not sure why this pizza appealed to me today. Here, the pepperoni was gratuitously displayed, in all its greasy glory. Zero shame. Belly exposed.

Maybe it’s the bright green basil that drew me in? Yeah, probably that. Hey, it’s like a salad and entrée all in one! Who could resist?

Well, I could not. And to assist in balancing out the heart attack-inducing meal, I ordered a cocktail which was the color of my pizza’s basil.

It was essentially one of those fancy, overpriced cold-pressed juices except with booze. Oh, and jalapeno. They must know that’s my weakness and that I will purchase any item containing that beloved pepper. Damn you, GG’s.

The pizza was insanely delicious. Really, not only a work of artery clogging art, but super tasty too. It was on the thicker side, drenched in flavor (aka: pepperoni grease). It reminded me of a super upscale, buttery Pizza Hut crust. Pizza Hut is my favorite chain/delivery joint, so please note this is a compliment.

The other pizza we ordered, the 1986, was also very tasty. Thinner NY style crust with tangy pickled peppers, fresh arugula and spicy sopressata (pretentious pepperoni)

After my juice, I mean cocktail, was consumed, I ordered something even tastier! Called a Grey Gardens, it was a lager beer with Earl Grey tea syrup and lemon juice. Delicious! I could drink those all day. Perfect for washing down all that pepperoni madness.

We arrived at this cozy, Alphabet City spot for brunch. On the earlier side, so there wasn’t a wait. And it was all snowy out, which keeps the brunch crowds at bay. The crowd inside was young and chic. And not afraid of a little snow.

Both ladies seated to my left, were donning fur coats, zero makeup and perfectly messy morning hair. They looked fantastic. Their gentlemen companions also appeared in fashionable morning attire and sporting just slightly mussed hair. The four of them looked like supermodels, exacerbated by the fact they seemed to be pushing their food around more than actually eating it.

Something I found amusing placed on their table was this thick, ample piece of brioche toast slathered in almond butter, that I had spied on the menu (but did not order) and subsequently coveted for the duration of our meal. I witnessed the poor thing sporadically moved about their table to make way for more mimosas.

But never actually consumed. Not even one bite!

Sadly, I hadn’t downed enough drinks to summon the courage to ask if I could take it off their hands. Not that my stomach (or wherever the hell that place is where food goes after the stomach is full) had any room. Needless to say, I left the place with my dignity intact.

511 E 5th St
New York, NY 10009
b/t Avenue B & Avenue A in East Village, Alphabet City
Phone number (212) 687-3641
ggsnyc.com

ALL PHOTOS TAKEN WITH AN iPHONE

Picture taken just after our chic neighbors left.

GREEN MARY

GREY GARDENS –
lager, lemon & earl grey syrup

GENTLEMAN’S LUNCH – bourbon, rye, raw sugar, blended bitters

1986 – spicy sopressata, fennel agrodolce, pickled peppers, arugula

GRANDMA PIE –
six slice square pie, pepperoni, tomato sauce, mozzarella,
basil & oregano