brunch at the dutch and more thoughts on subway tile.

They boy and I ate brunch at The Dutch this past weekend.  I've had it on my list for a while now as I adore Locanda Verde but it took a long lazy Memorial Day weekend to come a long for me to finally make a reservation.  The brunch was as I expected - wonderfully delicious especially my roast turkey sandwich which sounds probably incredibly boring but this one was done so well that it was rather extraordinary (creamy avocado and a green aioli stole my heart). (The boy in typical brunch fashion ate french toast.  He always eats french toast.)  The best part of the meal was the honey shoofly pie with green apple ice cream that I have become obsessed with.  So obsessed with that I have tweeted the pastry chef there to see if she will share the secrets.  Sadly I have gotten no response.  She clearly knows to hide a good thing.  

The restaurant shares my love of subway tire.  I've mentioned before my love of off centered tiles but the tiles at The Dutch were different.  It wasn't floor to ceiling white or even tiles of the same shape.  There was some white and some a blue that looked almost black.  Some were large and some were small.  It was cohesive yet intriguing and unique.  It made me think that things don't always need to be symmetrical and perfect.  That perfection can lie somewhere in the realm of imperfection (or maybe just in the eye of the beholder).  

The rest of the restaurant was filled with leather banquets, the kind of French napkins I am eternally searching for but have convinced myself don't exist outside the realm of cute rustic restaurants, butcher block tables, and mismatched photos.  It was basically what I envision my dream kitchen to look like complete with large windows that look out on to a beautiful tree-lined street.  A girl can dream.  Or a girl can go onto Pinterest and try and find more kitchens that steal her heart because she likes to look at inspiration.  This picture is the one I keep going back to.  So chic.  

Image via Pinterest.