WARNING: PICTURE HEAVY
I hate being tagged a hipster. While I don't think I necessarily fit the stereotypical hipster label (plaid shirts, ironic haircut/facial hair/tattoo/t-shirts, aviator sunglasses, requisite skinny jeans, microbrewed beer, living in Williamsburg, etc), I definitely have so hipster habits. Case in point, brunch. While brunch has long been a tradition carried out by classes of leisure, it seems that it's since become a vested hipster interest. For me, however, brunch is not a meal meant to fit into friends' very busy schedules or timed so that I can see a show or any such complication. Rather, I've come to detest rising early following a night punctuated by tequila, pulsing music, and dancing in crazy heels.
As such, I feel like waking up whenever the hell I feel like and dragging my exhausted butt to the nearest watering hole is only a natural consequence of such a night. Best cure for a night of raucous carousing (and its after effects) is always a good solid breakfast. But who wants to get up at 9 am and make that? I have to be up at 7 every other morning of the week. I love cooking but it's much preferable to have your cravings sated completely WITHOUT having to do any of the work. Hence, my obsession with brunch. Late sleeping+mass consumption of carbs+huge, delicious, labor-free breakfast=AWESOMENESS.
For once, I didn't cart myself hung over to breakfast, but woke up in the forenoon (though not happy about it) and visited l'Ecole, the restaurant of the French Culinary Institute. Broadway and Grand has never been graced with a more fantastic establishment. Prix fixe brunch menu consists of coffee, an appetizer, and a delicious entree for $19.50. Of course, there are various options that you can add that will cost more than that, but even my ravenous appetite was satisfied with only those (and dessert, of course). See food porn below:
After brunch and some youtubing with a best girlfriend, as well as the hunt for the door of the historic-looking HSBC in Williamsburg (wtf does it open???), there was a jaunt for some exquisite chocolate, courtesy of Jacques Torres in DUMBO.