Extra, Extra read all about Extra Virgin

For some reason, we never seem to make it down to the West Village for brunch, even though it's just a stone's throw away and has a lot of great spots. Something about the end of the reliable city grid system makes it seem like another world. Who knows what possessed us to choose the bitterest, coldest day of the winter so far to trek down there today, but boy were we glad we did.

I've heard great things about Extra Virgin, so we made our way down W 4th and got our names on the list. It was going to be a 30 minute wait and so many people were packed inside waiting that you could barely get in the door. We decided we'd rather be cold than super in-the-way, so went down the street to grab some fortifying and hot coffee at Starbucks and then took up residence on the side walk.

When our wait was over, we were guided to a teeny, packed in table where we had to essentially climb over other diners to get to our chairs. We placed our orders and got our silver pitchers of coffee and silver coffee mugs. Very cute, although the pitchers were the same size as the cup, so kind of pointless. As we waited we independently decided that no food was going to be worth the long wait and the crowded chaos.

But then our food arrived and proved us oh so blissfully wrong! The Mr got the Monte Christo sandwich with fries. The fries were absolutely perfect- skinny, crisp and flavored with herbs and garlic. Our absolute quintessential french fries. The sandwich itself was delightfully meaty with a spicy mustard served on good bread.

Monte Christo

What really stole the show was the banana french toast. Wowee! The bread was at least two inches thick, but somehow the absolute lightest and fluffiest french toast I've ever eaten. We just kept shaking our heads and muttering "How did they do it?" to ourselves. The baked banana, mascarpone whipped cream and strawberries all sent it over the edge into pure bliss.

Banana French Toast