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So, the folks are in
town, eh? So, they decided to stay at a classy joint on The Park?
Nice. Maybe they'll have you and Mrs. down to their hotel for some
brunch and give you the full court press about moving back to L.A.
Hopefully you can make the former and skip the latter. But you could
certainly do worse than listening to their pitch while having some
eggs and stuff at the Essex House and staring out at Central Park.
Granted, it's pretty typical hotel brunch fare, just with better silverware.
The scrambled eggs are lukewarm to sorta cold, depending on when you
get to them, the bagels would barely give Lender's a run for their
money, and the fruit--well the fruit is fine. They use those fancy
French-word things to keep the food warm. You know, like the metal
things you see at post-wedding, Sunday morning brunch--but again these
are kinda fancy. The only thing our party ordered outside of the all-you-can-eat
buffet was eggs Benedict--something I wouldn't touch with a ten foot
pole and definitely don't understand the name of. She had to send
them back twice, as apparently it's not a good thing if the eggs in
the eggs Benedict have the consistency of his shoe. We also had the
pleasure of listening to a blowhard at the next table talk on his
cellphone at top volume about some lawsuit it sounded like he was
definitely going to lose. The place itself was nice enough, but practically
empty and devoid of what one would consider charm or personality.
I suppose there's no real point coming here unless you're staying
at the Essex House, want to spend way too much on mediocre food, and
are really too tired, too sick or too lazy to go out to one of the
5,000 other brunch places in NYC. [MF]
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