In Which I Conquer My Fear of Cold Weather for Love of My Tastebuds.

Hi kids!

It is WINTER in New York. Anyone noticed?

We all know I'm a desert kid. New Mexico gets snow, on occasion. By 'on occasion', I mean that one inch of fresh powder on the sidewalk shuts down schools and businesses city-wide. I have no idea what my fair hometown would do with the snow-rain-sleet-hail combo blanketing NYC the last three days.

But I, my friends, am determined to adapt. So, yesterday my sidekick and I decided to venture out into the 27 degree day for a little adventure. First stop: another one of Kathy's ideas.

The day we met Kathy and Mitzy at the Brooklyn Flea, she mentioned a great patisserie in Park Slope called Trois Pommes. She offhandedly mentioned that they make killer doughnuts, but only on Saturdays. This is information that I promptly forgot. However, my sidekick, failure of many a sweets-12-step-program that he is, has been pining away every weekend for a trip down 5th avenue to this fabled patisserie.

Don't ask me why yesterday, a Saturday in Brooklyn where I saw fewer people on the street than may have been out in Albuquerque after a snowstorm, was the day we decided to do so. I am, however, extremely glad that we did.

Exhibit A: Coffee and House-made Rasberry Jelly Doughnuts.



I'm back on coffee for the first time in years. And it's a good thing. Trois Pommes uses Gorilla Coffee, (a local favorite, which just so happens to live a block away from me) which I've decided is fantastic.

Exhibit B: An Extremely Pleased Sidekick.



So, with the boyfriend happy and sugar-ed, we decided to go for a little romp around Williamsburg and do a little (much procrastinated) Christmas shopping. Our plan was to kick around until afternoon for a late lunch at Fette Sau (famed Brooklyn beer bar Spuyten Duyvil's BBQ brainchild), as we've heard raves about it and are both meat fans, in general. I mean, pork is important. Disagreement with that statement baffles me.

However, much to our and our frost-bitten noses displeasure, we discovered that Fette Sau is dinner only. They open at 5pm to dispell their carnivorous gospel, and not before.

Instead, by very, very happy accident, we wandered into a diner. Well, not A diner, rather, a joint simply called 'Diner' at the corner of Broadway and Berry. Now, rumor has it, this mildly renovated 1920's dining car once held an actual greasy spoon.

I thank whichever restaurant god bestowed it's latest incarnation upon us.



It is a tiny, cramped, possibly architecturally unstable hovel. Which, if you know anything about me, you know appealed to me instantly. The menu, which I would guess changes daily, comes to you hand-written on a piece of cash register receipt. These are market-influenced offerings. You can just tell. That being said, it is a BARGAIN. Not ridiculously cheap by normal diner standards, but this is FAR from a normal diner.

Exhibit A: Sidekick's Sausage 'Sammy' (their words, not mine).



Soft, butter-griddled bun. Like the best bulky roll you've ever tasted. If they're not house-made, they get them from somewhere VERY close. Perfectly seasoned, home made sausage patty (I tasted rosemary). Two, perfectly over easy eggs. Runny yolks, tender-but-set whites. House-pickled onions (are you noticing a pattern here?). So simple, so perfect.

Exhibit B: My 'Market Salad'.



House-made buttermilk dressing (I am a fan of the newest Ranch come-back). Herby, leafy salad with chives, green onions and radishes. BACON LARDONS. And the most perfect (while maybe not traditional) Scotch Egg that's ever existed. Allow me to expand upon this (as if you have any choice):

I think Scotch Eggs are gross. They're usually a pretty stodgy amalgamation of hard-boiled egg, greasy sausage, stale bread crumbs, fried to death.

Diner's Scotch Egg defies physics. In order to... Scotch an egg (?), it has to be boiled first, at LEAST soft-boiled, so that you can shell it and add the crispy coating. It is then cooked again. The yolk inside that Scotch Egg is RUNNY. What does this mean?

This means that Diner has cooked an egg TWICE better than most mortals could cook an egg ONCE. And for that, I salute them. I believe the egg was missing the requisite sausage component, but aside from that it was a Scotch Egg for all others to aspire to.

Oh and GREAT coffee. Did I mention I'm back on coffee?

Happy Eidachristmahanukkwanzikah everyone!



Trois Pommes
260 5th Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11215
718-230-3119

Diner
85 Broadway (Berry St.)
Brooklyn, NY 11211
718-486-3077