Photographs: Jeff Gurwin, Talia Simhi

Like Mom's

Community Food & Juice
Sat, Sun 9am–4pm: 2893 Broadway between 112th and 113th Sts (212-665-2800)

The newish upper-Broadway addition to the Clinton Street Baking Company family is already drawing hordes come brunch time. We showed up around 10am on a Saturday morning—just missing the rush—for a wholesome meal in the lofty, rustic-chic space. Is it worth the wait? Nothing against CF&J, but we can’t name a single brunch that merits 45 minutes in the cold. But is it worth going at all? Sure. Fluffy blueberry pancakes (pictured; $11) could have floated right off the plate, and a market-veggie scramble ($11), dense with still-crunchy peppers and zucchini, was more like veggies with a bit of egg. The place also peddles juices (a friend loved her carrot-ginger, $4.75), but we got a bigger kick from a cranberry mimosa ($10), purportedly fresh-squeezed. The coffee was strong, the poultry in our chicken-apple sausage free-roaming—all in all, well-executed boho fare.

Photographs: Jeff Gurwin, Talia Simhi

Haute eating

Park Avenue Winter
Sat, Sun 11am–3pm: 100 E 63rd St between Park and Lexington Aves (212-644-1900)

Née Park Avenue Summer, this notable newcomer changes its decor and name with each new season—we tasted chef Craig Koketsu’s $32 three-course prix-fixe winter brunch on its inaugural weekend, which coincided fortuitously with Gotham’s first snow fall. The restaurant’s icy white interior made us hanker for stick-to-your ribs food; we received an ultrarefined take. Superb pastries from a luxuriously stocked basket included a fine-crumbed pistachio scone. Next came the best Caesar salad in the city (pictured): stalks of romaine with vinegar-cured anchovies and pungent preserved lemon. Entrées, like a heavy-duty breakfast risotto of scrambled eggs, pork sausage and mushrooms satisfied our baser tastes, while an elevated take on classic smoked salmon with eggs, crisp pressed potatoes, crème fraîche and caviar went hand in hand with the posh UES environs.

Photographs: Jeff Gurwin, Talia Simhi

Farm-forward

Back Forty
Sun noon–3:30pm: 190 Ave B at 12th St (212-388-1990)

]The folks at Peter Hoffman’s East Village tavern understand that there’s more to coddle at brunch than eggs; the lights at the eatery are kept mercifully dim and the menu is chock-full of hangover killers. Steak and eggs (pictured; $16)—six nicely charred slices of grass-fed beef with a pair of fried eggs—should fortify any diner, booze-soaked or not. Fried chicken and waffles ($14) showcases moist meat soaked in buttermilk for two days and plush waffles. Though the coffee is potent enough, smart diners should put that $3 toward a side of pillowy cider donuts ($7) or a “Meyer lemon fizz” ($10)—lemon juice mixed with white rum, sugar and soda—for some hair of the dog that bit them.

Photographs: Jeff Gurwin, Talia Simhi

Neighborhood place

Shorty’s .32
Sat, Sun 11:30am–3pm: 199 Prince St between MacDougal and Sullivan Sts (212-375-8275)

Chef Josh Eden fled the fine-dining beat—he was at Jean Georges for 12 years—to open this cozy neighborhood eatery. Legions of mismatched lamps hanging from the ceiling cast a mighty glow over our morning coffee (thanks to attentive service, we never saw an empty mug), and Eden delivers what everyone needs on Sunday morning: fat and starch. We loved his sweet-potato hash strewn with bits of short rib over buttered toast (pictured; $14) and pleasantly cakelike pancakes ($10) with the misshapen charm of Mom’s. Or forget classic AM victuals altogether and opt for Shorty’s excellent burger on a brioche bun ($14), served with house-made pickles.

Photographs: Jeff Gurwin, Talia Simhi

French country

Provence
Sat, Sun 11:30am–3pm: 38 MacDougal St between W Houston and Prince Sts (212-475-7500)

Toile upholstery and a pink powder room ensure that Marc Meyer and Vicki Freeman’s French restaurant delivers the romance evoked by its namesake region. The food is almost as dead-on as the look: House-made croissants ($12 for three) are tender, flaky and, when treated with Meyer’s own quince jam, delicious enough to render any eater momentarily speechless. A tartine (pictured; $8), in which sweet figs, honey and crème fraîche intersect on a buttered baguette, has a similarly stultifying effect. Steer clear of the entrées—eggs brandade ($14) was a soupy mix of salt cod, tomato-basil sauce and crème fraîche—and stick to the carbs. That’s how the French would do it, anyway.