Hundred Acres: A Brunch to Make Eeyore Smile

2014-04-05 12.06.57-2

 

Growing up as the youngest child, it wasn’t until my nieces and nephew were born that I got to see my parents interact with little kids. Now I already think my parents are incredible people, but experiencing them as grandparents has been an unexpected gift. We spend all our lives eager to grow up, to be treated as an adult, it’s a wonder to step back and see my parents engage with my little nieces and nephew, totally stripped of adult pretense, lying on the floor making funny faces and singing silly songs for the singular goal of evoking a smile. It also has brought to light my parents’ deeply held convictions on children’s media, like their disappointment with Frozen and their great love for classics like Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street (sorry Bubble Guppies, you just can’t measure up to King Friday).

I bring this up because prior to my niece Riley’s birth, I had no idea that my mother was such a huge fan of Winnie the Pooh. But once Riley was old enough to keep her attention on more than a bottle, she was listening to “The Wonderful Thing about Tiggers” and watching The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Despite the difficulty of locating that movie on DVD (damn Disney vault), the amazing thing is the staying power of the Pooh franchise — toys, shampoos, clothing, it’s basically everywhere. So you can imagine when I heard the name Hundred Acres, I assumed this would be an Alice’s Teacup-type endeavor with Piglet tablecloths and Kanga and Roo wallpaper.

As it happens, Hundred Acres is not connected to Winnie the Pooh in any substantial way. But the rustic vibe, the welcoming atmosphere, and the approachable but inventive brunch dishes evoke the low key joy of A. A. Milne’s stories. You may not be able to get a jar of “hunny” at Hundred Acres, but I have a feeling a certain bear would be more than happy with the options.

 

First Impressions:

The front dining room of Hundred Acres, full of homey accents.

The front dining room of Hundred Acres, full of homey accents.

I’d heard about Hundred Acres as part of a trio of highly regarded spots (sister restaurants Five Points and Cookshop) that are all known for their brunches. Eager to take a break from tax season, my mother asked to try a new brunch place, and with her affinity for Winnie the Pooh in mind, I couldn’t resist checking out Hundred Acres.

The restaurant is down on MacDougal in the West Village, just removed enough from the hustle and bustle of Houston to make it feel like a part of the neighborhood. The forest green facade is made up of a series of French doors that offer open-air dining when the weather is warm enough, although it was still too blustery on the day we visited. Fortunately, even closed the doors provide a lot of natural light, helping the front dining room to feel bright and inviting.

 

Looking back towards the rear dining room, you can see some of the decorations on the walls.

Looking back towards the rear dining room, you can see some of the decorations on the walls.

The woodland theme is carried through to the interior of Hundred Acres, where deep, rich wood paneling leads up to soft green paint on the walls of the dining room. The farmstead home effect continues with the beaten metal columns, pale granite tables, and simple white light fixtures. The bar is decked out from floor to ceiling in white tiles you might find in any home kitchen, and the walls are decorated with framed paintings, photographs, and bookshelves full of wine bottles and other assorted dining paraphernalia. Although Hundred Acres has two dining rooms and seats at the bar, we were lucky to have made a reservation, since there was already a line of people waiting outside when my mother and I arrived. Clearly this place has earned its reputation as a brunch hot spot.

 

The Food:

 

As is very popular in the NY dining scene these days, Hundred Acres features a “market-driven” menu that changes frequently due to the availability of ingredients (the most recent menu I checked features the hot spring commodity, ramps). However, the standard, favorite dishes that I had read about before our brunch were still on the menu, so my mother and I got to test the validity of prior reviews. I really appreciated the input of our waiter, who opened up our meal by highlighting some of the most popular dishes, and his own personal suggestions. Through his guidance, we opted to start with the “Gooey Cinnamon Rolls,” then I ordered the Baked Eggs, while my mom got the Goat Cheese-Sage Bread Pudding.

 

The Gooey Cinnamon Rolls -- dense pockets of cinnamon sugar await you.

The Gooey Cinnamon Rolls — dense pockets of cinnamon sugar await you.

The Gooey Cinnamon Rolls arrived shortly after we put in our order, served in a rounded metal plate. The 3 large rolls were still warm, nestled together and coated with a vanilla glaze. My mother wanted a bit more icing on top, to hew closer to the Cinnabon ideal, but considering the sticky innards, I thought they were plenty gooey (who am I kidding, like I would have complained about more icing). The roll itself was outrageously fluffy, with that almost taffy-like yeasted quality of good challah or brioche, which requires a little extra effort to pull apart. The interior was threaded with cinnamon sugar, eggy and moist, especially at the very core, which everyone knows is the best part of any cinnamon roll. Here the icing and cinnamon sugar collect and soak into the dough, leaving you with a near equal topping-to-bread ratio. How could any self-respecting pastry fan resist? I was very tempted to dive headfirst into the third cinnamon roll, but my mother, generous soul that she is, suggested we take it home to my father. This ended up being a wise strategy, since our entrees were still to come, and turned out to be more than enough food on their own.

 

The messy-looking, but entirely satisfying Baked Eggs.

The messy-looking, but entirely satisfying Baked Eggs.

The first thing that caught my eye when looking at the Hundred Acres menu was the Chilaquiles, since I had so recently experienced a great rendition at El Toro Blanco. But when I asked our waiter about his thoughts on the dish, he steered me towards the Baked Eggs (black beans, grilled poblano chiles, pickled onions, jalapeño peppers, cheddar cheese) instead, saying they were more unconventional. This turned into a brief discussion of what we all look for in a brunch. While there are definitely times that I just want a basic stack of pancakes, most of the time I’d like to have a brunch dish that I couldn’t make easily at home, which makes me reach for the benedicts and huevos rancheros over a simply garden omelet. It turns out he was spot on in this recommendation, because a woman at the table next to us got the Chilaquiles, and while they looked good enough to try on a return trip, I was surprised and delighted by the Baked Eggs. The dish placed in front of me was pretty different from what I had anticipated. The eggs were served in a ceramic casserole, the edges crusted with cheesy black bean sauce on which the eggs themselves floated just below the surface. I thought there would have been more heat from the peppers, but they really just served to add a bit of pop to the creamy beans and rich yolks, helped out by the acidity from the pickled onions. The eggs were perfectly cooked, held together by the crown of cheddar cheese but splitting into orange puddles of luscious yolk when pierced. The only thing I would change about this dish woudl be the addition of some textural variation — something to add a little crunch to the largely soft, soupy mixture. Even something as little as serving it with toast or a grilled tortilla to scoop it up would make the Baked Eggs a little more cohesive to me.

 

Don't be fooled by all the spinach, there's a hunk of decadent Goat Cheese-Sage Bread Pudding underneath it all.

Don’t be fooled by all the spinach, there’s a hunk of decadent Goat Cheese-Sage Bread Pudding underneath it all.

If the Baked Eggs were somewhat unconventional, the Goat Cheese-Sage Bread Pudding (poached eggs, wilted spinach, lemon butter) really goes out on a limb. First of all, it’s a savory bread pudding, which you don’t see very often, and second, as our waiter described, the pudding is used as a the base for an Eggs Benedict. When it arrived on our table, I was relieved to see the portion size was ample without being excessive, because one look at the dish tells you how rich it is. If we’re going to be nit-picky, it’s really a take on Eggs Florentine, since the only thing between the eggs and the bread pudding base was spinach (rather than meat). But I’m not complaining, since I prefer Eggs Florentine anyway, and I’m a sucker for bread pudding in any and all forms. As with my dish, the eggs were perfectly cooked, little poached packages waiting to be opened t0 reveal a gooey liquid yolk and soft, but still firm white exterior. The pudding itself had a nice crust on the top and bottom, and a custardy, chewy interior like great french toast. My mother was wary to order the bread pudding because she’s not a huge sage fan, but thankfully the herb is delicately employed, mostly there to add slight woodsy and peppery notes to keep the pudding on the savory side. This provides a much-needed break from the sweet, fatty lemon butter and goat cheese. Odd as it might be to say, the spinach was also a highlight of the dish, only slightly wilted so it stood up against the eggs and still had a bit of texture. My Popeye-like love of spinach will make me eat it in any form, but it’s a welcome delight to find a version somewhere in between raw and the sad-sack mushy sautéed spinach you find in most Eggs Florentine.

 

Final Thoughts:

Although both of our dishes felt decadent (not to mention eating the Gooey Cinnamon Rolls beforehand), my mother and I agreed that we left Hundred Acres satisfied but not overstuffed, a testament to the thoughtful portion size and quality ingredients.

Overall, Hundred Acres is an inviting, homestyle spot — clean, bright and staffed by a friendly, knowledgeable crew. They offer items to satisfy those looking for American classics, as well as some unique twists on brunch that take advantage of seasonality and an adventurous palate.  I definitely plan on returning for brunch, and maybe dinner as well, since there were plenty of dishes on the menu I’d be game to try. From the decor to the dishes, Hundred Acres makes you feel like you’re in an elevated version of a country inn, sitting down to a meal maybe just a little bit away from the type of place Christopher Robin might call home.

 

Hundred Acres

38 MacDougal St. (between Prince and Houston)

http://hundredacresnyc.com/

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Restaurant Week Brunch at El Toro Blanco: Indulgent Mexican Comfort Food

2014-02-23 12.31.29

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming to bring you another NYC restaurant review. Just before Jacob left for his own Birthright trip, we snuck in a few Winter Restaurant Week meals, the first of which was at El Toro Blanco. Although it had been on my list for a while, I was especially drawn to the restaurant because it was one of the only establishments that offered a brunch option for RW, and how can you resist the dual siren call of Mexican brunch and a 3 course prefixe for $25? Plus, we had to make sure Jacob topped off his salsa quota before flying off to the lands of hummus and shawarma. And thanks to El Toro Blanco, he got to indulge in more than enough queso fresco before trading his tortilla for pita.

 

First Impressions:

The main dining space of El Toro Blanco made me think of a 1970s dream "man-cave."

The main dining space of El Toro Blanco made me think of a 1970s dream “man-cave.”

El Toro Blanco is one of those restaurants you’re bound to walk by a million times, since it’s located on 6th Ave, just off of Houston. Sitting on a wide block on the west side of the street, there was a small fenced-off area I assume is for outdoor dining in warmer weather, although on the blustery day we visited, I was happy to be seated inside. The interior of the restaurant is a open and full of light, thanks to the plate glass windows lining the front. There’s a bit of a 1970s living room vibe to the decor — lots of wood paneling, black bricks and orange leather, with some multicolored hanging lanterns and funky art on the wall (ranging from the Mexican flag to multiple paintings of bulls, or “toros”).

 

The main bar, with the small upstairs dining room above it.

The main bar, with the small upstairs dining room above it.

The main bar is directly across from the front door, but there’s another small bar just to the right as you enter, both offering seats for dining as well. When we first arrived at 12:30, the place was pretty empty, but by the end of our brunch it had filled up, with most of the space at the bar taken up by people both eating and drinking. We were led up to a table in the small upstairs section behind the main bar, which gave you a nice view of the dining room below, and was a little quieter until a large group of half-tipsy women took over the banquette tables across from us.

 

Our quiet little hideaway of tables, until the ladies brunch arrived.

Our quiet little hideaway of tables, until the ladies brunch arrived (after these guys left).

Overall the service was friendly if not overly attentive, probably because El Toro Blanco is such a popular spot. It’s clearly a trendy place that has high volume (and likely rowdy) brunches, so it’s no surprise that they’re happy to make suggestions, but hardly hang on your every word like our waiter at Ippudo. I should give credit to our hostess who offered us her advice on the best brunch dishes — we ended up ordering based on her suggestions, and her taste was impeccable.

 

The Food:

While there were a number of appealing drinks on the cocktail menu, Jacob and I opted for a dry brunch (let’s just say there was a raucous wine and cheese going away soiree for him the night before). El Toro Blanco’s Winter Restaurant Week brunch offered three courses for $25, with most of their regular offerings available on the RW menu. Based on our own Mexican brunch preferences, and the enthusiastic reviews from the hostess, Jacob started with the Costillas Empanadas, and I ordered the Oaxaqueño Tamale, a substitution from the main menu since they had run out of the special RW Elote Verde Tamale. For main courses Jacob got the Chilaquiles con Huevos, and I had the Huevos Rancheros Verdes, and for dessert Jacob chose the Cinnamon & Sugar Churros and I went with the Mexican Chocolate Cake. All of the portions were substantial and filling, leaving me very satisfied with the cost-to-plate ratio.

 

My substitue Oaxaquena Tamale -- unanticipated, but delicious.

My substitute  Oaxaqueno Tamale — unanticipated, but delicious.

The Elote Verde Tamale (fresh corn, roasted poblano chile, queso fresco, crema, green chile salsa) had piqued my interest, especially since I don’t have a lot of experience with green salsa. So even though I was disappointed to miss out on it, the Oaxaqueño Tamale (roasted chicken, plantain, red mole, queso cotija, crema) was a more than satisfying substitution. I almost always jump at the chance to have plantains (tostones, I love you), although here they mostly served as a textural element. The hefty, square tamale arrived absolutely slathered in red mole, which gave the entire dish a deep cocoa richness. Between that, the sweetness from the plantains, and the crema and cotija cheese, this was a pretty decadent start to the meal (and a good indication of what was to come). My fork sliced easily through the cornmeal wrapper into the interior of shredded chicken and cheese. I think the Elote Verde might have been a slightly lighter and spicier opening act, but I had no complaints about the deep flavor of its tamale understudy.

 

I mean, how can you go wrong with fried dough, meat and cheese?

The Costillas Empanadas — I mean, how can you go wrong with fried dough, meat and cheese?

Jacob’s Costillas Empanadas (slow roasted short rib, oaxaca cheese, ancho barbecue, crema) were more cleanly plated, two petite pockets of dough with just a small cup of sauce next to them. I can’t count the number of short rib dishes I’ve talked about on this blog, but I’m sure a quick search will give an overly detailed account of my love for this iteration of beef. I’d even venture that it has replaced brisket in the top spot (except for my mom’s Passover version, of course). El Toro Blanco presented another fine rendition of short rib, the meat tender and juicy, combining with the oaxaca cheese to evoke an upscale mexican cheeseburger. The dough shell was fried to golden-brown, crispy on the edges and chewy in the middle, its flavor subtle and mostly just a vehicle for the filling and the bbq dipping sauce, heavy on the smoky umami flavor and with just a bit of a kick from the ancho. While my tamale was good, these were really memorable empanadas, high quality and well worth returning for.

 

The Huevos Rancheros Verdes, a cornucopia of Mexican ingredients.

The Huevos Rancheros Verdes, a veritable cornucopia of Mexican ingredients.

Once we moved beyond the appetizers, the entrees and desserts were all versions of dishes I’d had before, but I was impressed by the precision and care which El Toro Blanco put into their cooking. Turns out I unintentionally ensured my opportunity to have green salsa by orering the Huevos Rancheros Verdes (corn tortillas, ham, refried pinto beans, sunny side up eggs green chile salsa, queso fresco, avocado, pico de gallo). What I like about huevos rancheros is that so many places add small, unconventional touches to their take on the dish, be it the meat or beans used, or even the plating. El Toro Blanco’s version starts with crispy corn tortillas on the bottom, hardy enough to hold up against the onslaught of sauces and cheeses, without being rock hard like a recent rendition I had to stab my way through at another brunch. The base was topped with sunny side up eggs and smothered in beans, green chile salsa, pico de gallo, and queso fresco. I had channeled a bit of Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally when ordering, asking to sub the ham for chorizo, but to be honest, I didn’t even really notice the meat, except that it added a little heat and some textural density. Sure, it looks somewhat messy, but if you look closer you can see how everything is actually quite well-executed and composed. The eggs have crispy edges at the rim of the white, with soft domes of yolk just waiting to be broken and flood out onto the dish, the fresh cut tomatoes and onions split the tortillas in contrast to the vivid color of the salsa verde. I’m glad I did get to try El Toro Blanco’s salsa verde, which was bright and tart from the tomatillos, but I think I actually prefer having both red and green salsa on my eggs, like in Huevos Divorciados (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huevos_divorciados).

 

The Chilaquiles -- don't judge a book by its cover, this guy will hulk smash your hangover.

The Chilaquiles con Huevos — don’t judge a book by its cover, this guy will hulk smash your hangover.

While huevos rancheros is my go-to for Latin brunch, Jacob is a sucker for chilaquiles, so he was just as excited for his entree. El Toro Blanco’s Chilaquiles con Huevos (baked saucy nachos, guajillo salsa, fried eggs, melted mexican cheese, crema, avocado, pico de gallo) had the most interesting presentation of the meal, arriving in a little cast iron pan. One glimpse at the dish and it’s clear why it’s a perfect brunch item — it’s basically nachos + eggs, so plenty of carbs and cheese to sop up hangover ills. Despite the petite plating, this was a deceptively large portion, layer upon layer of chips divided by thick strands of mexican cheese mixed with crema, salsa, and pico de gallo, and then topped with a generous sprinkling of even more cotija, to fully ward off the lactose intolerant. You can’t even see the fried eggs in there, but believe me, the same creamy yolks were hiding in wait to spill out and put the whole dish over the top. While I enjoyed the tastes I had of Jacob’s dish, I found myself more eager to return to my own entree, overwhelmed by the carb and dairy bonanza of his tasty gut-bomb of a dish.

 

The Mexican Chocolate Cake

The Mexican Chocolate Cake with bonus matchstick churros.

It’s lucky that both Jacob and I are freaks of nature with secondary stomachs designed solely for dessert consumption, because after our mountains of cheese and salsa, there was still another course to come. There ended up being a fair amount of overlap between our desserts, each of our dishes highlighting chocolate, dulce de leche, and cinnamon-sugar flavors. My Mexican Chocolate Cake (matchstick churros & dulce de leche ice cream) came with mini churros (bonus!), and ended up being a more refined version of a lava cake. The cake itself was made of a moist crumb of rich chocolate with a hint of chili powder, totally covered in a thick chocolate sauce that made each forkful gooey. The dulce de leche ice cream was sweet without being overpoweringly sugary, and the mini churros gave a bit of a crunchy break to the other soft elements of the plate. Much like my huevos rancheros, this dessert wasn’t groundbreaking, but rather a familiar treat done very well.

 

And their big brothers, the Cinnamon Sugar Churros.

And their big brothers, the Cinnamon Sugar Churros, with addictive chocolate and dulce de leche sauces.

When Jacob’s Cinnamon & Sugar Churros (chocolate & dulce de leche sauces) came to the table, I initially thought he had gotten the short end of the stick (er, churro?), since there were only two pieces in the basket. Fortunately, much like his little pan of chilaquiles, these churros proved to be plenty filling. The two pieces were hefty logs of fried dough doused in cinnamon and sugar, each bite starting with a crisp and crunchy crust that gave way to an airy interior. I think I prefer these to the churros we had at LeChurro, although I may be inviting controversy by unfairly comparing Mexican and Spanish churros. I was largely swayed by the dipping sauces El Toro Blanco served with the churros. I found myself dipping and double dipping into the chocolate and dulce de leche sauces, long after Jacob had finished.

 

Final Thoughts:

It’s always nice to find a solid restaurant to add to your rotation, and I would say my RW brunch at El Toro Blanco earned it a spot. Aside from my tamale, none of the dishes were unknown territory for me, but all of them were well-seasoned and extremely generous in portion size. Sure, their regular menu is pricier than your average Mexican spot, but if the RW service is any indication, you certainly get your money’s worth. I’m looking forward to the opportunity to come back and try the rest of El Toro Blanco’s offerings, especially in the summer, when I can sit outside, sip a cocktail, and then walk all the way home after scaling a mountain of tortilla and cheese.

 

El Toro Blanco

257 Avenue of the Americas (off Houston)

eltoroblanconyc.com