Let us have a moment of silence to pay homage to an often neglected and frequently forgotten side that is the home fry, which is often second fiddle to the prima donna of entrees. The audible crunch of my fork piercing that tiny wedge of deliciously fried potato is music to any foodie's ears. To continue with the music analogy, the cornbread with maple butter is a sweet prelude, and the apple empanada with a flawless flaky crust is its own movement.
The chef knows how to fry, but he doesn’t know how to poach, and still I found the Santa Fe eggs benedict beyond reproach. I usually hate bastardized eggs benedict – there’s really no replacement for that smoky savory slice of Canadian bacon in my opinion, but I just couldn’t find fault with the dish. The sour avocado harmonizes with egg, buttermilk biscuit and hollandaise to build on the home-fry overture.
Desperate Plea: Seriously chefs, please learn how to poach! Don't you learn that your first week of culinary school? I've been twice and my eggs were rock hard both times. How are such talented chefs so lacking in bare basics?
It’s not all about the Benjamins, baby. At Masa on Saturdays, all it takes is a Hamilton (10-dollar bill, duh) to get you a delectable two-course brunch, coffee or tea AND tax and generous tip included. In short, the best brunch I’ve had in years, maybe EVER.
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