We scoured the East Village for a spot to settle in for brunch- a process which turned out to be a feat as nothing seemed to cater to our diverse tastes. As what could have been a last resort, we sailed through the open door of Rue B.
Noted as "swank" and "romantic," my first assessment of the venue was quite the opposite. Black and white photos of past music stars, a quarter machine dispensing cashews and the unisex bathroom labeled "GYMNASIUM," offered other ideals of ambiance.
The brunch menu is a prix fixe of cocktail, coffee and entree for $12. We started with a bloody mary and bellini, as well a few cups of warm, milky diner style coffee. For our entrees, John selected the Tuscan truffled eggs with pane pugiliese and bacon. I leaned to the Eggs Corleone with poached eggs (note: it only came with one egg) blood orange hollandaise and greens. The kitchen ran out of the house rosemary potatoes, ergo John wasn't quite satisfied with his dish. He ordered a side of toast with Nutella, and for myself, another cocktail.
The food was sub-par at best- which could be attributed to our 2:00pmish arrival? Service certainly tapered off as the staff were all sitting on the kitchen counter eating their own plates. New York Magazine readers noted in online reviews that the evening jazz is quite enjoyable accompanied with juicy cocktails and a cheese plate. It may be worth revisiting.
Images: from my iPhone
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