One foodie's guide for others to learn the must-tries VS. the don't-even-bothers of the vast culinary jungle.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Jane


West Village
100 W. Houston St. btwn Broadway & 6th Ave.
(212) 254-7000
http://www.ctrnyc.com/JANE/index.html


Due to a series of fortunate circumstances, I feel almost obliged to be nice to Jane. I don't necessarily want to though and if I wasn't struck by the unusual sequence of fate, I wouldn't owe this place anything.

The brunch-time call ahead reservation policy, a huge bonus, allowed us to put our names on the waiting list without standing around at the restaurant. By the time we arrived, our table was immediately ready (miracle #2). Miracle #1 was the parking spot that opened up right in front of the restaurant.

Everyone would agree on Jane's generosity from a quantity standpoint. Quality is a separate sentiment. The "Mimosa Cosmopolitan" was nothing more than a mimosa with a splash of cran. The first round of carb loading took place on the mediocre bread basket. Some interesting choices were included (ie. whipped strawberry spread replaced traditional butter), in theory, but not impressive. A theme that would continue throughout our meal.

For the next round of carb indulging, clearly, the waiter spotted me snapping photos with my camera and advised the kitchen to kiss up to me to get a good review. Well, unfortunately for Jane, bribery does not work on me (unless we're talking diamonds). Although this complimentary french toast, prepared with soft brioche and tasty vanilla bean flavor, was perfectly moist to almost sway me (out of the ordinary occurrence #3).



Other main dishes lacked the worthiness suggested in the menu. For example, the Lobster Benny, Eggs Benedict with lobster, was made primarily with claw meat (eww). I was way too full to eat my burger, but nibbled on the fries, because fries are never good as leftovers. Sadly, these were the poor man's version of the Spotted Pig's rosemary fries.

Overall, the extremely cramped quarters stressed me out for my intended leisurely Sunday brunch. I had to strategically map out my route to the bathroom. Although, I can imagine if I were paying a pretty penny for such prime real estate, I'd pile in as many seats as possible, too. Perhaps an option to keep on weekend brunch rotation for those fortunate enough to live in the West Village. For me, despite my handful of lucky flukes, I see no need to venture back.

Go or No Go? No Go

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