But it’s at that table at Maysville in the Flatiron District, eating super sweet and cakey citrus glazed doughnuts as an amuse-bouche to the amuse-bouche, drinking orange saturated mimosas, you realize it all feels the same. Immutable time.
Your brunch bites are secondary to the conversation flurrying around the table as future plans are divulged and pasts stay where they belong. Something about the crisp winter sun streaming in, reflecting in the mirrors, echoing the clean lines, has taken things out of context but each note is recognizable.
Pretty French toast, sticky with honey, tangy like orange and smooth as ricotta tastes sweeter out of habit. Warm tones and thick slices bring comfort and a little piece of home, made special with golden honey and bronze orange marmalade.
Bitter Brussels sprouts, gravy heavy sauce Mornay and salty smoked deli ham, comes to life with shared laughter and secrets. Taboo and leftover memories are eliminated with a thick brick of fried grits and its warm creamy center, echoing the textures of the crisp green leaves of the Brussels sprouts and the decadent sauce.
Chef’s Breakfasts are made less ordinary with birthday plans and getaways and stroller talk. Eggs over-easy, eggs scrambled— same difference, when there are more important details to discuss and crunchy potatoes to forget.
You linger after the eats and mimosas are long gone and questions of ‘what’s next’ and ‘when’ cross your minds and reach your lips. No set plans in place, but you all know there will be a next time before too long, another chance to evade time and pick up where you left off.