Backtracking to blueberries

My account of Pistahan will have to wait. I wrote a novel on it of course in a Word document and the past week I have had no internet. That means that I cannot post that novel to this site. In any case, I thought I'd make a quick entry about Clinton St. Baking Co. since I took Tim and some of his friends there last week. The location is rather far and not exactly close to the subway from my memory, but this was the only brunch place I could think of when Tim texted me and said he was in NYC and ready to party at 11 a.m.

It's a rather cute place, almost like a diner but much more cozy with a warm glow to the entire restaurant. A glass window stood at the front entrance displaying tiers of scones, muffins and other pastries I'm sure I could not live without if I had the time to taste them. There were 5 of us then. Tim and I split the Wild Maine Blueberry Pancakes with Warm Maple Butter and the Grilled Chicken Sandwich. I only had the pancakes the first time I went to Clinton St., and I am happy to say that our order decision was a success, credit to both of us.

The pancakes came to the table first: four, neatly-stacked fluffy cakes that at first worried me because there were no distinct signs of the blueberries to be seen. But the dangerously indulgent maple sauce sat in a cup on the plate, ready to be lathered over those golden brown flapjacks. I couldn't decide how to split them as we had no extra plate yet. Tim said: "I'll just try a bite first. I'm really not into pancakes. (I think this is what he said)" But whatever he said ended up being interpreted as: "I'm willing to share whatever I got but I won't eat any of yours because I'm not into sweets." My eyes widened (no joke), my mouth fell open and I proceeded to explain to him that sharing the pancakes was non-negotiable and that we could never be friends or talk again if he refused to have his half. I wasn't all mean...I did say that if he hated them, I'd eat the rest and not have to share his sandwich. To my relief, and possibly his, he said he liked the pancakes and was able to eat about 1.5? And here's why I think he liked them and why I finished my 2 pancakes and what he didn't eat: The pancakes weren't dense and too cake-like; they were airy and springy in texture (something all pancakes should be like!). With every bite there was surely a mouthful of blueberries to please the palate. To me, they didn't taste frozen-it was if the chef literally took generous handfuls of blueberries, threw them in the batter and, well, stuck them on a hot griddle. If there wasn't enough blueberries, rest assured, loose, fresh blueberries were sprinkled on the sides of plate. Don't like blueberries? Don't get the pancakes because when they say "Wild Main Blueberry Pancakes," they mean you're going to get your pancakes and blueberries too. Without the warm maple butter, the pancakes were like a porche but without the paint job-something completely necessary to spice things up. You can bet on it that you can taste the butter, but its forefront flavor taste like a rich caramel with a silky, smooth consistency. The maple essence is much lighter and really an after-thought, but really...whether you dunk your pieces in or pour it over the cakes, it is very likely to tranform a non-breakfast person into a breakfast person (I am an example).

Tim's sandwich came and one look at the gorgeous stack could make you drool. It was simple, nothing dramatic, but that's the best part because sometimes the classics beat out those New American or fusion takes on the traditional. The thinly-sliced sourdough rye bread was perfectly toasted with some grilled marks. Two pieces held together tender chicken meat, avocado, romaine lettuce, bacon (yay!), slices of beefsteak tomato and a chipotle mayo that made the sandwich a real star. Everything tasted fresh, and parts that needed to be crisp, like the bacon, lettuce and the tomato (maybe more like firm and robust), could be expected. If you've ever had a Club Sandwich, this was the queen of them all. I think there was Cole Slaw and some chips on the side but I was much too preoccupied eating the pancakes and the sandwich.

Midway into the meal Tim decided to order a root beer float. Why I declined to try some I do not know because I, as I always do, regret that I didn't! Perhaps it was because I was worried I'd drink it all without a second thought, leaving none for him. Especially since I was capabable of doing that when I used to live by an A&W shop and had $1.50 root beer floats with Lisa and dad almost every week.

I was the last to finish because I just could not stop eating as always when things are tasty. No disappointment for my second visit here. I'd definitely recommend it for a brunch place if I ever find myself up in the morning/afternoon with out-of-town visitors.

Lesson of the day: When you're offered to try something someone else has ordered, just try it.