I was already full when I got to Sweet Chick. Full, and on my way for a slice from Stanton Pizza in the East Village. But I called it destiny when I spotted it. See, Sweet Chick had been on my mind for many weeks preceding my trip to the big city (we’re talkin’ NYC). I was primarily there for a marathon (we’re talkin’ the New York City Marathon), but a close second purpose for my visit was, of course, to eat. Sweet Chick had my interest because of their weekday brunch.
I enjoy getting my brunch on. With my race on Sunday morning, I talked myself out of full-on brunching it Saturday… and by full-on, I mean downing a mimosa or two (requirement for a proper brunch – I never knew I could say “brunch” so many times in a post; I just did it again) along with something sweet and fatty. So my plan was to head to Sweet Chick on “Brooklyn” Day (aka Tuesday) of my trip – scheduled two days after the race with the hope that I’d be minimally recovered and nimble.
Trouble was, my husband had plans of his own (the nerve!). A friend of his told him about another Brooklyn spot called Pies N’ Thighs. It sounded perfectly good – but my question to him was: Did they have a weekday brunch?
Nope. But, I wanted to be accommodating – couldn’t have the choices be all about me I guess. So he got the lunch choice for Brooklyn Day. Which ended up being more like short Brooklyn afternoon, as our venture across the river was nestled between my East Village hair appointment and our evening comedy show back in Kips Bay (with a short nap wedged in the day as well); and semi-spoiled by a heavy dousing of rain (coming down on my my freshly pressed hair! – thank goodness for hats).
So no Sweet Chick. Still, the thought of it haunted me. I couldn’t shake the idea of it. The place wanted me. I remember glimpsing it during my run on Sunday, the place beckoning from along the route on Bedford Avenue as the pack tackled Williamsburg.
Our last day in town was Wednesday, with plans to visit the Empire State and do a bit of shopping for small things (we were near capacity in our luggage). And the husband had one other establishment on his list – Katz’s Deli, which I could get down with due to the Harry Met Sally connection. I only took a(n extremely delicious) bite of his turkey sandwich because I had Stanton Pizza on my mind, longing for a slice since my last late night drunken stop there almost a year ago.
And wouldn’t you know it. As we turned the corner after leaving Katz’s and headed towards my slice, there it was – Sweet Chick, the Soho version. I totally forgot that they had more than one location (including one in LA some 25 minutes away from home, but I tried not to let that bother me once I found out). I’d finally get my weekday brunch, despite telling myself earlier that day that I was done with alcohol for the trip.
And weekday brunch proved awesome. I ordered the fried chicken and waffle sandwich with home fries, a sweetened and sauced combination of flavors and textures that I couldn’t stop eating. I cleared the plate, washing it down with the mimosa I’d been wanting since my first morning in town. Not only was the food delicious, but this particular location got my heart pumping with nostalgia right upon entry with its nods to the Notorious BIG sprinkled about. I could have stayed there all day. But, woe, my plane awaited me at JFK. Next time in town, I’ll head over to the Brooklyn location. And perhaps one day I’ll make the drive from Long Beach all the way up to Los Angeles to try Sweet Chick on Fairfax.
I think the odds are on the Brooklyn location.
By the way, I still got my Stanton Pizza slice.
Sweet Chick at 178 Ludlow in New York and other locations