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Every couple weeks we file proper restaurant reviews—with, deep breath, stars. On such occasions, Metromix dines unannounced and pays full price for the meal.
"Would you like to have brunch with us tonight?" That was the quirky greeting we got when we entered this all-brunch-all-the-time spot in the East Village, the brainchild of local hospitality fixture Lesly Bernard (Tillmans). In a way, it was also a playful little mind-fuck, because Permanent Brunch has a fun time screwing with your head: Is it possible to enjoy an open-face omelette at 8 p.m.? Order a pancake as an entrée? Tear into baked eggs before calling it a night? There's even an "artisanal bacon bar" here, offering five types of porkers from around the country. It's a ballsy concept, yes, and one that Bernard is banking diners will rise and shine to. —ALL
Lesly Bernard: Ideas guy
You gotta give it to Bernard: The guy's got some cool ideas. Like Permanent Brunch, most of his projects tend to be niche and high-concept, and usually involve intricate backstories. We liked Mr. Jones, his short-lived yakitori spot on 14th Street, which, he told us when it opened, was about "an Anglo guy who happens to love all things Japanese." We dug up an old press release about his long-delayed Cuban spot La Otra, which pimped out the restaurant's play on "'The Other,' as in 'The Other Woman.'" Getting these places to open, on the other hand, is a different story: Still nada on La Otra, which continues to inspire blog chatter, while two other reported projects—Nightcap, the onetime upstairs lounge at La Otra, and Nolita dessert bar Village Tart—remain M.I.A. —ALL
Good cop: Buttermilk biscuits, bacon tasting
Biscuits are becoming more and more the brunch staple, and PB makes a damn good one, both moist and oily—not starchy and leaden—spread with homemade preserves. Our server went out of her way to mention that the batches are made differently by each sous-chef—something the restaurant denied when we called back to confirm. Hmmm. Let's hope this recipe sticks, because it worked pretty well. As for that "artisanal bacon bar," pause a second and think about it. It makes you angry, right? Ignore the lame-o trend alert bouncing around your brain—this is simply a fine selection of regional cured pork, straight from the David Chang playbook. At $3 a serving (for 2 to 3 strips), we ordered the entire menu of five. The smokey Hungarian Kolozsvari and peppery New Braunfel Smokehouse rasher from outside San Antonio were standouts. Maximum fun. —MR
Bad cop: Shrimp and grits, chicken and waffles, ham-and-cheese French Toast
The problem with PB is that—in what seems like a play to make the food more appealing, more gourmet, past brunchtime—it overthinks most of its dishes. The result is fussy and overwrought food with more elements than it needs. Chicken and waffles, normally so elegant in its simplicity, is bombed here with shiitake mushrooms, bacon and bits of shredded chicken, which are folded into the gravy: chicken-on-chicken action. It was a mess to look at and overwhelming to eat. French toast stuffed with Vermont ham and Tumbleweed cheese (from 5 Spoke Creamery) would have been fine on its own. But it was doused with a busy syrup made with Dijon, Vermont maple syrup and pork stock. It left a runny puddle and an even soggier French toast. Shrimp and grits were reduced to an incoherent mush by a combo of shrimp jus, mascarpone, tomatoes and celery—not helpful when the shrimp themselves are rubbery. The big question is whether all this rich and starchy goodness is worth ingesting past sundown: We left feeling a bit nauseous. And ready to skip breakfast the next day. —ALL
Got an iPhone? Play DJ!
In a city where every restaurant has either a Twitter account, Facebook fan page or online reservation platform (and possibly all three)—dispensing crucial information like daily specials and seating availability—it's clear that the iBerry has become as important an accessory to the dining-out experience as the antacid. Bernard takes this one step further with PB's community-as-DJ concept. Using the iPhone's free Remote application, diners pick the soundtrack, mining from Bernard's eighties-leaning database. (We plugged Prince, Steely Dan and R. Kelly). The true brilliance is the ability to "vote" a song up the playlist queue. So if your neighbors agree that "You Make My Dreams" is, like, the greatest Hall & Oates song of all time, it will take priority. —MR
On the subject of brunch...
But really, it all comes down to whether you like brunch. Some people really do: “It forces me to get out of bed and get moving at a reasonable time on the weekend,” said an enthusiastic colleague when asked on the topic. But some people don’t really like brunch. And everybody can possibly agree that brunch isn’t necessarily about the food—for every perfectly flaky Pastis croissant, there’s 10 weak cups of coffee, half-toasted slices of bread and inexplicable 45-minute waits. Brunch is about the time and the place. A lazy weekend afternoon spent with friends (old and made the night before). So when brunch is served all day—not when brunch is, well, brunch—and the cuisine isn’t particularly strong, where does that leave you? —MR
Photo by Sam Horine
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