While we waited for our coffee – itself a wait for our unnecessary Breslinwait – in the Stumptown Coffee inside the Ace Hotel, J texted me “This is so douchey.” Was he referring to the taxidermy display in the lobby, or was he thinking that waiting on The Breslin three times in one season is overkill? If you haven’t already noticed, we’re not big on waits at Eats Meats West. But alas, we had guests in town, and it was determined that brunch was a reasonable means to give The Breslin another shot. Ostensibly, we went because the English Breakfast had been voted best in the city by NY Mag, plus they seemed to like the three-cheese sandwich. To back up a bit, the fake short supply of tables was in full effect, though to be fair we were seated faster than our quoted 30 minutes. Right away there were some stumbles.
They were out of pains au chocolat (at noon), and they weren’t able to make a scotch egg (it’s dinner only). Oh cause I’m sure they don’t have sausage sitting around. The English breakfast doesn’t come with toast, but you can it for $3! Thanks? Finally, when asked what the “selection of pastries” entailed (we assumed a combo of the pastries listed individually) we were told that it consisted of “whatever we have in the back.” Literally. D asked for milk to go with her tea, and it took two more requests before she got it. These are simple requests, people! The fried peanut banana and bourbon vanilla sandwich is less of a sandwich and more of a sphere of fried dough (the scotch egg dough, perhaps) with some peanut butter and a tiny bit of honey. It was just not sweet enough on the inside, and the batter could stand to be a little less savory. The first bite was good, though, but after a while I hit a particularly boozy and raw flour patch. It left an unsettling aftertaste. For shame.
It was at this point that our sharing plates arrived, but the sandwich was all but gone. I just kept thinking, “is this even a sandwich?” It could best be described as an oversized mildly sweet corn dog with no meat or stick. At long last: the aforementioned triple-cheese sandwich [with ham and a poached egg]. Yes, it was crispy, salty, and cheesy. And yes it was $18. I was prepared for the price, yet even on this our third trip, I was not prepared for the bloat factor. The Breslin a heart-healthy establishment is not. J also ordered the cheesewich but omitted the egg, which for some reason included mustard and house pickles. Why would the inclusion of a fried egg make the sandwich any more or less pairable with mustard and pickles? It’s weird either way. By the end we were all so full that it was legitimately sad…and we’re foodies! I mean I’m just saying there was cheese on the outside of the bread.