Mother's Day could not have been any nicer (except perhaps to have been able to spend time with one more son). The weather in New York was perfect spring, and the outings for the day were just my style - fabulous brunch, fascinating dance matinee at the Joyce, a brief wander through a street fair and then wine and dinner with family (as the official Mother's Day part of the day).
Sunday noon at Gascogne, right near the Joyce, was French-does-brunch, which actually is all the rage now in Paris and, of course, has been a weekend fixture in New York forever. What made it a special little surprise was the back garden, so rare to find in Manhattan, and such a charming quirk in a restaurant right on Eighth Avenue.
The fixed price brunch menu is reasonable for the amount of courses (three) and quality of cuisine (excellent). They were authentic French (the food and the service) and were not to be rushed, as I was told when I notified the waiter of our need to get that second course moving since we were headed to the Joyce, "Yes, Madame, everyone wants to go to the Joyce." Oh, well, that shut me up. But it was just too nice there, with the sun streaming in and the lovely setting, for me to feel compelled to force further discourse on the subject...or to move any more quickly.
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