Permanent Brunch & Burger Hits the Spot

This is why Americans are fat. Cousins MP and YJP each ordered a heart attack on a plate as did I at Permanent Brunch & Burger in the East Village. Talk about a proper kick-off to my week-plus eating spree in the City.

We strolled on in and got seated right away in the small eatery, and proceeded to eat everything set in front of us. MP got the fried chicken and waffles served with a cinnamon-spiked apple compote that had her cooing.


YJP ordered the PB&B ham and cheese-stuffed French toast—a fluffy carbo pile of savory and sweet goodness sandwiching Hatfield smoked ham and white cheddar cheese, drizzled with Dijon maple jus. As if that weren't enough, a pile of crispety crunchety fatso onion rings came nestled by its side.


I had the bouncy, springy stack o' buttermilk pancakes with fresh fruit doused in Vermont maple syrup and an oozing mess of whipped cream.


Loved the subway tiles with photos flanking the walls on both sides. According to NYMag.com, the owner Lesly Bernard painstakingly put each one in by hand. A labor of love. And it shows.