My appetite, unlike the rest of my body, suffers no confusion of the circadian rhythm when flying east. In the city, I find myself often hungry early, very early. But brunch in NYC for non-locals is tricky business, most establishments near our favorite hotels are either too crowded, filled with hungover hipsters in too-tight jeans, or the food is simply not that good. That perfect combination of a tranquil atmosphere that serves delicious food to real people is rare.
Rumor has it that Gramercy Terrace is actually very trendy at night, frequented by models whose calorie intake consists mainly of alcohol & kale. Luckily, we came 8 hours late on a drowsy autumn morning. Still, I was a bit afraid of the hipster factor when I saw all the Damien Hirsts and Andy Warhols in the lounge area, but take a couple of steps outside and all that changes.
A green simple space filled with New Yorkers from many walks of life. A straight-forward menu that serves both classic comforts and healthy offers. The coffee is fresh, hot, and strong. There are no anorexics in sight. I eat my poached eggs and smoked salmon. The Mr. smiles. I’m happy.