Crispy Dough
I am bad with secrets. I've always been bad with secrets. You shouldn't tell me any secrets, secret holders, because I will give them away.
Case in point: the brunch you see above. What is it? Where can you get it? Why do I love it so?
If I were a good secret keeper, I'd end the post here. But I am not a good secret keeper and alas you shall know...
It all started last year when we moved to Park Slope. My friend Shirin, who I know from college, said: "You have to go to Miriam for brunch and have the crispy dough."
I thought I wasn't hearing right. "Crispy dough?"
"Yes," she said. "Crispy dough."
"Like the outside of a pizza? Like a freshly baked loaf of bread?"
"No you idiot," said Shirin, who is a lawyer. "It's its own dish--a middle eastern dish of fried dough with egg on top and it's served with pulverized tomatoes and harissa."
This sounded too bizarre to be true, so the next day I joined Shirin and her boyfriend for brunch and proceeded to order the crispy dough. To quote Elaine Stritch in her one-woman show: "A star was born."
What is it about crispy dough that makes it so great? It's certainly not its healthy qualities: it's basically a big savory pancake fried in grease and topped with a greasy egg. But that pancake--something about the texture of it, almost like a potato pancake without the potato--is a true winner. In combination with everything else: the egg, the tomato and the harissa, it's heaven.
And if you have a hangover, it's essential. I can't imagine having a hangover and not getting crispy dough to cure it. In fact, I did that on Saturday morning after a WILD NIGHT of partying Friday night. (Ok, it wasn't that wild. It involved show tunes.)
But here's a thing: this a secret. Miriam is already too crowded as it is. We used to be able to get in right away, and now we have to wait. I was there at the beginning of crispy dough, and now it's too big even for me.
I feel like the kid in a movie whose best friend becomes a rock star and then totally snubs him when the kid goes backstage to say hello. Don't do this to me, crispy dough. I MADE YOU, I CAN DESTROY YOU TOO!
But we're all safe, as long as crispy dough doesn't get any bigger. So don't tell a soul, ok? And if you see me at Miriam, just give me the crispy dough stare. I'll know what you mean---it's just between us.
