Not clear why Bruni chooses to venture so far downtown, but Prune comes off fairly well for struggling under the handicap of not being in the Time-Warner Center. It is clearly not his kind of place, and it seems odd to review a place that has been open for six years, in that it seems a long time to wait to inform Times readers of the existence of such a restaurant, and a little soon for a checkup on a an old favorite, especially considering that Prune's chef, Gabrielle Hamilton, was featured way back in 2001 in one the first of DI/DO's "The Chef" series. At times, critics allow glimpses into their inner lives, and what we find here is disturbing:
The proof was also in the long line outside the door late Sunday morning, when I most recently visited Prune, and at a corner table inside. There sat Chelsea Clinton, huddled over what looked like Prune's Dutch-style pancake.
Smart woman. That pancake is as big as a Frisbee, fluffy as a cloud and so ethereally appealing that Aunt Jemima and Mrs. Butterworth would probably fight to the sticky death over the privilege of coating it. But real maple syrup beat them to it.
OK. First of all, not sure why he'd be focusing on brunch, a meal that collapses the differences between edgy LES bistros and IHOP like no other, second of all, sorry that one of my favorite NYC restaurants has become the kind of place Chelsea Clinton goes to for brunch. Good to know also that they teach the kids at Stanford that pancakes taste good: "How smart is she? Pancake smart!" These concerns are minor compared to "fight to the sticky death." I am reluctant to Google the phrase for fear of what will happen
to my browser history. Not even the good folks at Kaiju Big Battel have ever conceived something so perverse. Watch for the Steel Cage Brunch match at Wrestlemania XXI , better yet, put some bleachers out in the sun. I'm betting on an illegal tagin from the Vermont Maid.
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