Brunch is a curious beast, doubly so when hyped and backed into a corner. The Strange Baker and I have found ourselves in back to back weeks with two very similar brunches. Here’s what’s on the board:
Henrietta
- Eggs bearnaise Benedict smoked salmon biscuit, salad, smashed fingerlings
- Savoury blueberry frenchtoast with pork belly and cinnamon dusted bacon w. Blueberry syrups
VS!
O&B Canteen
- Eggs hollandaise benedict smoked salmon muffin, home fried potato
- Streusel scattered blueberry pancakes
The Baker and I split both at both, and here I sit nursing a pale, drifting drip coffee, bemused and worn, tired of the same attempts with mild variance in execution. In both cases, the sweet and savoury were only salvaged by each other; each was too much in their own attempts, but not very substantial. Had we kept our plates to ourselves, I know I would’ve needed to reach for the opposite palate as soon as we stepped out onto the street.
O&B has too much prestige, and both of their attempts (Canteen’s brunch and Cafe Grill’s dinner) landed distinctly lacking effort. Let’s get into what the ideal version of both these brunches would be.
Try Harder
The eggs benedict with a smoked salmon on muffin is a staple, and all that’s required here is to keep the elements intact, along with the heat; both benny’s faded to cold before they were halfway through. Béarnaise is a good balance if it has the strength to rival the pungent strength of smoked salmon, which yes, requires the smoked salmon to have flavour beyond texture (your house smoked fish gets no credit if I can’t tell its there). Strong elements rivalling each other can create an entrancing course, but when the sauce drowns the fish, disappears while sawing through the biscuit upon which every element is laid, rethink the plan.
Smashed fingerlings, crisped with salt and seasoning. You don’t need a ketchup or salsa or chutney if your potatoes haven’t been over cooked and dried to stiff husks. Some might ask for it, but it won’t be missed if the homefries backing up the eggs do their job well; they provide the heavy, comforting variety of texture and salt. These are the craggy mountains that dot the landscape of a half-eaten meal.
You don’t need a salad, but if you must keep the arugula to yourself, for the love of gods. If you’re putting on a mesclun salad, the dressing needs not shout against the hollandaise of the main. Softer fruit or citrus vinegrettes—meaty naval orange and crushed pomegranate with their syrupy sweet, lemon and grapefruit with their sharp sour—add tastes that might not be well represented.
For your bread dessert breakfasts (pancake, french toast, waffle: do these have a group name? Tricorns?), once again, sweet will triumph, but savoury must not be ignored; the savoury sides or accoutrements must fight in earnest for attention before losing to the sugars in a suitably gallant fashion.
Honestly, any of the tricorns can be put to good use, though how and which is preferred in what circumstance is a story for another time. Suffice to say that each can work; what varies is the ratios of toppings, fluids, and savouries used to build up the choice.
Blueberries are an excellent colour choice, their taste can swing from sugars to tarts between bites, but their presence must be felt. Every bite should have a dot of blue, if by way of syrup, sauce, coulis, or scattered whole berries (the minute, spiny wild blueberries for preference). Drizzle painting the plate only adds to the meal if there is flow enough to mop up with your breads base.
Pork belly cubes are a favourite addition that I don’t encounter often enough, but sparing use is key. No more than three widgets of salty, fatty meat or else it consumes the meal. Seasoned bacon only works if the spices used are strong enough to push trhough the crushing smoke of most strips of cured meat. Cinnamon was a good idea, but it walks the rasher’s edge; too much and you choke, too little and it might as well not be present. Same goes with peameal bacon and thicker cuts of ham (no love for ham slices of late, how I miss you diner ham, come back to me).
Wandering Brunch Thoughts
Maybe I’m dreaming of this ideal mix of brunch because so many of the pieces resonated with my, but none came close to reaching the heights they claimed. For an $16–18 plates, O&B fell woefully flat for me. Henrietta’s $14–16 plates were more manageable, or maybe in hindsight their price tags just managed expectations better. Regardless, these and no doubt future brunches leave me with the same thought:
I need to make brunch at home more often.