Hell is in the kitchen

I'm sitting in my apartment listening to boys under my window singing Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" loudly and badly, and I got to realize,  that some things in concept - like boys singing under my window - should be a beautiful thing, but when it's music from a bad 80's rock band,  and the boys are drunk NYU students, all you want to do is throw water at them and close the window.

poached eggs

And that's how this weekend was.  I tried to fit my requirements into one spot, and forgot the most important one - off the beaten path.  The choice I made was so on the beaten path, that it was a five-lane highway, and the folks working the joint were beating their clients with withering rolling eyes and snappy putdowns.  Where was the lovely spot? HK Cafe.  Sure it had the makings of a great brunch - unlimited drinks for $12.95 AND a DJ present. Sure, they didnt take reservations, but they said the wait would only be 20 mins.  And so it began, the journey into the thunderdome.

boys and their toys

We were greeted with  a full-on visual assault, a crowded entry, plenty of one-dimensional couples and tourists standing outside.  We were told by Mr Sassy, that the wait would be an hour, so after the collective intake of breath, we went to  Hell's Kitchen Flea Market at 39th and 9th, which is well-known and  actually a cool spot.  They have food trucks outside offering a variety of fat-free fare - no, not really,  but for a moment we thought, hey,  why not brunch it up here? But no,   I wanted to stick it out with HK, so went back  30 mins later, to check the time and if more of my brunch peeps had arrived. 

Mr Sass was in full attitude gear, possibly frazzled from all the half-toasted peeps already laid out at the bar, but STILL, there was no need for the frosted lift of the eyebrow, the arrogant statement  that the wait would be another hour.   He clearly didn't remember us, so  I kinda reminded him about, you know, 52 brunches, and the eight of us,  but he just kinda shrugged and WALKED away. 

scrambled and cheese grits

So, there you have it, what to do, what to do.  There had to be a PLAN B. Luckily,  Al suggested another spot on 44th and 10, called 44th & X.  cute.   A quick reservation was made, and we were off like dirty underwear to brunch fastforward #2.


44th & X only serves until 3, so by the time we got there, we had about 10 mins to sit and order our food before the kitchen closed.  Which leads me to this tiny rant...where do we live, in Paris?  This is NYC, why would a restaurant close to prepare for dinner?  Especially a restaurant in Hell's Kitchen? Pretension? I think so.  OK, Rant over.  But really, closing kitchens after lunch reminds me of old-school Europe, and even if the freaking kitchens in Rome closed at 3, you could still sit outside by the Spanish Steps drinking house Red, and enjoy the afternoon sun.  However, we are not in Rome, but close to 42nd St, where any restaurant, even freaking Quiznos is open 24/7....OK, I'm DONE!

So, we had to order as soon as we sat down, and yes, yes, yes, the food was divine.  They have the most delish little muffins that were a delite. Organic yummyness and exactly what we all needed to quiet our grumbling bellys. Although my bloody was a bit weak on the actual alcohol, the horseradish-seedyness balanced it out.  They brought us tabasco in a little white cream pitcher, which made my pretentious meter flip out again,  but I digress - again.  The meal was satisfying, we were all together, and it was turning into a fine afternoon.

That is, until the Waiter took our last piece of chocolate souffle.  OK, seriously now, who does that?  We didn't get a chance to play the "oh-no-you-take-the-last-piece' game.  He just up and took the plate, then had the nerve to ask us if we wanted it back.  Of course we did!! But........he didn't bring it back.  And so, no-one got to eat the last piece of chocolate souffle.  No-one.

The owner was nice though, and he was wearing a cute chef jacket, so that was lovely. And he gave me his email, so I'll be sending this off to him as well.  (smile).

Afterward, we walked back to the flea market, and the boys bought the bowls they had been coveting.  Highlight!

So, in summary, therefore, furthermore and in conclusion, Hell's Kitchen is an appropriate name for brunch #12, and yes, our journey will march forward to other neighborhoods, restaurants and experiences without ever looking back......to this spot.  On to the next!

BRUNCH #12

PLACE:   44th&X         

EATS:  Scrambled eggs, mushrooms, vermont cheddar cheese grits, goat cheese omelet, eggs royal, Maryland crab cakes, Mediterranian chop salad, grand marnier, bloodys and mimosas
TRACKS : David Bowie - Changes,  Tina Turner - We don't need another hero
OUTSTANDING WORD: Pretension.
LESSONS LEARNED:  Reservations are a beautiful thing.