The bar and dining room is all dark wood dotted with cows in the form of sculptures and pastoral paintings—a cozy place to settle in at a booth and while away a few hours. Which is what we did as soon as we were seated, about 20 minutes after arriving. From there, things picked up. Service was well-paced, knowledgeable, and hit just the right tone.
And what about the food? The brunch menu did not disappoint: We were immediately drawn to the lamb burger with cumin mayo and thrice-cooked chips (thrice!), although we circled a few other items for future visits, including the pumpkin pancakes with spiced chili pecan butter, the fried peanut and banana sandwich with bourbon and vanilla, and the goats cheese and leek tart.
The lamb was gamey and juicy and perfect on a burger, and those chips—yes, they might just be the best in the city, as a blackboard boast in the bar proclaims. They reminded us of childhood summers eating chips that come wrapped in newspaper, with lashings and lashings of salt. Chunky and crispy, and even more addictive when dipped in the cumin mayo.
We also sampled our friend’s grilled three cheese sandwich with house-smoked ham, which was smoky and creamy, and reminded us that we must try the other house meats, notably the house-cured bacon and sausage on the sides menu.
With its booths, and dark wood, and indulgent comfort food, The Breslin is one of those restaurants you’re reluctant to leave. (The kitchen-front table in that photo was full with happy diners for most of our visit, yet we out-stayed almost everyone in the room.) So it seems perfect that it’s located in a hotel that’s just as enjoyable.
Brunch at the Breslin is bound to become a mob-scene very quickly—but for good reason. It’s still breakfast and lunch only during the week, with dinner coming “in a few weeks.” In the words of our waitress when we asked if she knew exactly when dinner would start, “watch the blogs!”