Lately it seems like I’ve been seeing “barrel-aged” slapped on everything. You can buy beer aged in apple brandy barrels, cider aged in bourbon barrels, and even your very own home cocktail aging kit. As soon as I heard about maple syrup aged in bourbon barrels though, I thought, “bingo.” That’s like hearing about someone just inventing adding milk to dry cereal. And it makes sense, too—of all the hard liquors out there bourbon seems like the most breakfasty. Elevenses, or the 11am whiskey break, was an American tradition, and bourbon’s smooth, full-bodied sweetness seems like it would compliment syrup perfectly.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to track down any Tuthilltown Bourbon Barrel Matured Maple Syrup, which would be worth owning for the awesome bottle design alone. But I did find some bourbon barrel maple syrup made by Blis at Sur La Table. The syrup is aged in 12-18 year old single barrel bourbon casks, which are “carefully agitated until the honey, charred oak, vanilla and spice notes are imparted into the maple syrup syrup for a pure, one-of-a-kind natural flavor.” Well, twist my arm. I plunked down $19 and started planning a pancake breakfast.

The pricetag was justified at first taste. The syrup had a smokey-sweet kick like the fumes off a tumbler of bourbon, but with a rich, buttery aftertaste. The flavor was so unsubtle that I’d feel bad serving this to kids, but that might just be because I want it all for myself. It spiced up my pancake stack nicely, but I could see pouring this over fruit, yogurt, ice cream, sweet potatoes, mixed drinks, and probably lots of other things. If Blis made a travel-sized version I’d probably bring it with me to brunch. Going back to regular maple syrup will be rough.

Sur La Table
75 Spring St. between Lafayette St. and Cleveland Pl.
Mon-Sat 9:30am-8pm, Sun 11am-7pm

I’ll let you in on a secret: Frankie’s Spuntino, a cozy spot for reliably delicious Italian fare, serves a pretty damn good brunch. Just a few doors down from where weekend hordes queue up outside Clinton Street Bakery, I had some of the finest french toast in town–without waiting for a table. When I heard Frankie’s was opening Cafe Pedlar next door, I dutifully marched down to Clinton Street to sit in a sunbeam and sample some pastries. Keeping up Snackish is a dirty job sometimes but someone has to do it.

Cafe Pedlar serves Stumptown coffee, a name I hear thrown around so much I’m starting to wonder if they’re trying to annex a little bit of Starbuck’s turf. No matter, as the barista coaxed a fine cappuccino ($3.75) from the La Marzocco espresso machine. The pastries were even better. I sampled a moist and spongey olive oil cake with lemon zest ($3.50) and the pièce de résistance, a slice of crunchy french toast ($4.00). This was french toast imagined as pastry, a piece of eggy bread encased in a crisp maple syrup shell, served room temperature and eatable on the go, if you don’t mind sticky fingers.

The room will feel familiar to anyone living on the Lower East Side–a narrow, ground-floor dwelling with brick walls and few windows. Spartan’s the word when your main decoration is a shelf of wine bottles. But the open tables and mellow Bob Dylan tunes on the stereo invited lingering, whereas many of my favorite coffee shops (sorry Think, Abraço, and Ninth Street Espresso) seem designed to hustle me back onto the street. Next time I’m bringing a book and trying one of their delicately-twisted soft pretzels.

Cafe Pedlar and Frankies Spuntino also have Cobble Hill locations.

Cafe Pedlar
17 Clinton St. between Houston and Stanton. 7am-5pm Daily

If I were to describe my ideal brunch, it would sound a lot like the one I had at recently at Supper. We rolled up at around 10:30am on a Saturday and were seated immediately in a shady spot on the sidewalk patio–no wait list, no hungry mob, and given the lack of foot traffic on East 2nd Street, I could easily imagine I was in a tranquil little spot upstate. Bold, fresh-brewed coffee laced with crema arrived on gleaming white saucers, along with a plate of fresh crusty bread and spicy white beans soaked in olive oil. Most appetizers only seem to fill me up, but this one properly whetted my appetite for some of the best french toast in the city. A pile of plump berries, bananas, and pecans nearly hid two slices of thick challah that were cooked with a buttery-crisp crust while remaining moist and chewy within ($9.95). A pat of raspberry butter–a nice touch–slowly melted its way into the dense, eggy bread. I’ve had superb French toast at both Franie’s Spuntino and Café Condessa, but Supper might be my top pick.

Eating french toast, while wonderful, is a little like having dessert to start your day, so I ordered grilled polenta, which they also serve at dinner. This was the more intriguing, if complicated dish. Two perfectly-poached eggs perched on four bars of rich polenta, served on a bed of prosciutto, under a mass of shaved fennel. With parmigiano cheese angled on top. It makes me exhausted to describe it, let alone eat it. Each ingredient individually was quite good, but I wasn’t quite successful at combining the moving pieces on my fork—they ought to throw this sucker on a sandwich! A side of thick-cut, crispy bacon provided a familiar, savory respite ($5.95). All told, two dishes were plenty to share between two people. With the bacon and with two coffees our bill came to $36 (minus tip).

Perhaps we lucked out by arriving earliy-ish, because judging from the food, the queues at dinner, and the popularity of the other two restaurants from this crew (Frank and Lil’ Frankie’s) I’d expect there to be more lines for brunch at Supper. Fortunately for us antisocially lazy types, you can get all this delivered. A roasted fennel and fontina omlette ($11.95) with a side of bread and mixed greens traveled quite well to my doorstep, while the french toast, in its pool of butter and berries, was a little bit worse for the journey.

Supper
156 E. 2nd Street between Ave. A and Ave. B
Mon-Thurs 8am-12am, Fri 8am-1am, Sat 10am-1am, Sun 10am-12am
Cash only, $10 minimum delivery (212) 477-7600

French toast is one if my favorite foods, but I get to indulge so rarely. On weekend mornings I’m usually too unsociable to eat out, and cooking is the last thing I want to do. If someone made a tasty take-out version, I’d probably eat it every day.

Abraco Espresso‘s version of pain perdu (or “lost bread,” since in France the traditional recipe calls for stale bread) is the french toast sandwich I’ve been missing. A slice of moist, eggy challah is folded over ricotta filling, dusted with powdered sugar, and wrapped in wax paper for no-fuss nibbling. The ricotta is like no other I’ve tasted, creamy and spiked with orange blossom, which adds just a hint of fruity, floral flavor. The pain perdu is pre-made–perfect when you’re on the go, costs $3, and is just the right mount of food to quell morning munchies. At first I was a little hesitant about eating room temperature french toast without syrup and other accoutrements, but now I’m a complete convert.

I’ve written about Abraco Espresso before. This closet-size cafe has great service with great attitude, top espresso and coffee, and delicious edibles like salads, sandwiches, and daydream-worthy frittata. The buttery-salty-sweet olive oil cookies flecked with raisiny dried olives are also not to be missed–mind you, this comes from someone who doesn’t even like olives.

Abraco Espresso, 86 E. 7th St.
Mon-Fri 7:30am-8pm, Sat 8am-8pm, Sun 9am-8pm

Sometimes all you need is a relaxed, candlelit bistro and a giant hunk of garnished meat to get your night back on the right track. Something about Belcourt–whose full length windows overlook the bustling downtown theater action at Fourth Street and Second Avenue–feels particularly welcoming; maybe because it’s a new place trying to be like an old place and arriving somewhere comfortably in between. Or maybe because there’s never a wait to be seated. Patience is not one of my virtues.

The menu will be familiar to any fan of european gastropub fare–selections of meats, cheeses, salads, and entrees ranging from hanger steak to fish. High-quality ingredients, often homemade, and a few twists and turns to the flavors elevate this beyond standard pub grub. Highlights include the spiced pear and mixed greens salad with beets, walnuts, blue cheese and pickled onions ($8) which delightfully mixes sweet with savory, and the thickest-cut pork chop I have ever seen, served on a bed of swiss chard with shitake mushrooms and gorgonzola sauce ($24). It was tender, perfectly cooked, and redeemed itself from the fact that someone left out the advertised and much-anticipated side of maple bacon.

(Photo by gothambill)

On a more disappointing note, the beer list could use a little more variety. I am not a huge fan of La Chouffe, although having a Belgian on draft at all is a plus. The coffee bbq-rubbed braised brisket suffered from way too much salt, although the side of polenta it came with was perfectly nice ($23). Probably the best value here is the beef or lamb burger, served on a squishy bun, layered with slivers of spicy pickled zucchini ($12). It comes with a side of fresh, crispy frites; the garlic aoli dipping sauce and spiced homemade ketchup alone are worth the price of admission. Update 4/2/09: The housemade ketchup has been discontinued! (Doesn’t prevent you from demanding they bring it back).

I hear the brunch is worth checking out, as well.

Belcourt, 84 East 4th Street at Second Ave.
Open daily, 11am-12am