Last weekend I went to an old favorite with one of my oldest friends. Nothing new to report—the food is still amazing, the service gracious, the dining room bustling—but please join me in lusting over the wares of Buttermilk Channel anyway.
We started with the Star of the Sea bloody mary, made with celery-and-peppercorn-spiked vodka, and watched the bartender shuck the garnish just minutes before he dropped it on top. It tasted every bit as fresh and delicious as you would imagine.
Every Saturday morning should begin with bivalves on the half-shell. Once we’d whetted our appetite for oysters, it was tough to resist ordering a half-dozen to share. Or it would’ve been tough to resist, if we’d tried for more than a split-second. In the end, we didn’t even pretend to put up a fight.
Once such distractions were out of the way, we found it much easier to concentrate on the main menu. Patrick instinctively leaned toward the scramble with house-cured lox, cream cheese, and scallions; I was put off by the idea of warm smoked salmon, and the hash-brown accompaniment didn’t do much for me, in theory. I was happy that my snap judgments were proven wrong when the plate came, though: Everything about it was perfect, from the melt-in-your-mouth eggs to the hockey-puck-sized potato cake.
More along the lines of my ideal side were the biscuits, served warm from the oven with a side of raspberry jam. We split one, and I had the other later, as a late-night movie-theater snack, and it was every bit as good ten hours later, at room temperature.
For my main, I tried to branch out. I considered the lox platter and the pork-chop-and-waffle dish, and I very nearly ordered the grilled cheese with apples and bacon. Inevitably though, I was unable to resist the siren song of my favorite crave-worthy salad: warm lamb, roasted cauliflower, soft-boiled egg, an amazing anchovy-based dressing, and—nominally—romaine and frisee. The word “salad” gave me license to consider this a healthy breakfast, and for that I’m eternally grateful.
When it comes to friends, restaurants, and even dishes, sometimes it’s nice to have an old standby or two.
524 Court Street