We don't often go to restaurants repeatedly, but Rucola is an exception. It does obviously help that it is situated approximately 60 seconds from our front door, but I'd like to thing we'd travel a few blocks further to this neighborhood haven if we weren't inhabiting an apartment in quite such close proximity. Every time we walk through the front door and squeeze into a seat at one of the tiny tables, we order a drink and say "I really like it here". Every time.
After flying around his race on a cold Sunday morning, B was given free reign of where to go for brunch. He close Rucola. And that wasn't just because his legs were so tired that he couldn't stand the thought of going anywhere further away. We managed to beat the crowds by arriving two minutes after opening time, and ordered the first of many coffees. Maman and Papa arrived soon after and we got down to the serious business of who was eating what from the dribble-inducing menu.
Soon enough, icing sugar dusted brioche french toast, granola and greek yoghurt, smashed avocado toast, and a slow roasted pork sandwich (that one was for the hungry runner) were being placed on our table, alongside multiple coffees. Everything disappeared very soon. In order to sit in the warmth, in our favorite room in Boerum Hill for a little longer, we treated ourselves to more coffee, and a selection of Bien Cuit croissants, before finally bracing ourselves for a return to the cold outdoors, regretting not having ordered more of that French toast.
Rucola, 190 Dean Street, Brooklyn, NY 11217
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