Those of you who have been out and about for Sunday brunch recently have seen what we’ve seen. Lines everywhere. I don’t know if it’s the Tavern closing down or media circus performers here for the Huguely trial or what. Bluegrass? One hour. Blue Moon? One hour. The Nook? Thirty minutes. The Nook! What all of these line-waiters don’t realize is that the best brunch in town is just a staircase and an open table away.
Brookville‘s BFP’s (Big Bleeping Pancakes) are enormous, fluffy, and spectacularly delicious. Pre-dressed with just the right amount of maple syrup, they flake off with your fork like a fine pastry, and taste like one too. If you’re lucky, they’ll have lemon butter that day and your cakes will sing a whole new song. Any visit to Brookville would be remiss without a pork dish, however, and to this end Chef Keevil serves up many a fine plate. Thick cut bacon, Surrey sausage in a pool of dijonnaise and maple syrup, and the holy grail of hangover cures, appropriately called “The Hangover Cure” – a biscuit sandwich with fried egg, sausage, pork belly or fried chicken thigh, gouda, and a hint of maple syrup, among other things.
There is also a delicious local white grape juice to wash it all down, should you feel you’re not getting enough calories from the main dishes.
I’ve spoken to a few people in the last year or two who claim they don’t like Brookville. I’ve done my best to try to understand where you people are coming from, but this brunch officially takes me to a place of no return. Hopefully we can salvage our relationship in other ways…