For the second year in a row, Duff’s has taken the best brunch title. While there are some other worthy candidates out there – and goodness knows new contenders are always welcome – it’s a win that’s easily understood.
St. Louis’ love affair with Duff’s, now settled into a long and amiable marriage, began almost immediately after it opened in 1972. The restaurant has stayed relatively true to its beginnings, a trait the city always admires, and someone who was a customer in the old days would be amazed at its expansion but immediately feel right at home. Yes, now the tableware is more apt to match, and the graffiti is gone from the restrooms. But except in the newest part of the restaurant, with its white walls and bright artwork, it still maintains the casual brick-walled, be-denimed atmosphere that always was.
At brunch which is served on Saturdays as well as Sundays, another mark in its favor the interior of the restaurant feels almost like a sanctuary, a cool, welcoming cave in the heat and a warm, cozy retreat when winter comes. The sidewalk seating fills up quickly in clement weather. It’s on the shady side of the street, a plus in St. Louis summers.
As much as the locals love those load-your-plate brunch buffets, it’s interesting that Duff’s does a sit-down meal, ordered from a menu, which includes its full lunch line. And while it’s possible to order Atkins-friendly food, the menu is clearly and easily hospitable to vegetarians. There’s a smoking area at the bar and a wine list that’s interesting, carefully planned and not outrageously priced.
Together, owners Karen Duffy and Tim Kirby, chef Jim Voss, the brunch chefs Greg Brooks and Matt Voss (Jim’s brother) and their staff create a brunch scene that’s welcoming, even when things are busy, and extremely casual, always a Duff’s tradition.
So what’s to eat? There’s always an egg dish, lately a scramble, and a pancake special. These are usually the same both days of the weekend. So if Saturday you can’t make up your mind between a roasted salmon scramble and the strawberry-cream cheese-almond pancakes, it might help to know you can come back tomorrow for the same options. And there’s a muffin of the day, from the school of muffinry that realizes that muffins really aren’t the same thing as cupcakes, that they’re tender but not sweet and quite ready for a slather of butter.
From the menu come several items I’m very fond of. Duff’s take on eggs Benedict is made with a Creole angle to its hollandaise. They add a little tomato puree, which makes it a sauce Choron, still traditionally French, and then go on with onion, pepper and celery. The result, over poached eggs and a generous serving of tender ham, is heavenly. An omelet made with black beans, tomato, guacamole and sour cream may be the single best thing on the menu, and it’s completely vegetarian, the smokiness of the beans being accomplished by the addition of some chipotle peppers.
Pancakes manage the trick of being thick but not tough, the thickness nicely accommodating the good-sized chunks of berry or fruit that stud them. The almonds in the above-mentioned version gave one side a shading vaguely reminiscent of leopard’s coat, and the cream cheese was part of the batter rather than being in chunks. Bacon is thick and crispy; the turkey sausage is laced with cinnamon.
Special mention has to go to the newest rendition of the house potatoes. At this time of year, truly new potatoes are available, and that surely must be what they’re using. I don’t think I’ve ever had, in a restaurant, potatoes that truly tasted fresh like these did. It’s not that they weren’t seasoned – they’re nicely peppery here and there, and there’s the requisite onion, perhaps even a little garlic. But every few bites, there’d be a mouthful that hadn’t had quite so much of the seasoning on it, and the predominant flavor was potato, clear and simple and singing. I was utterly seduced. And even without that serendipity – which I suspect was probably seasonal – these were excellent potatoes, hot and tasty, good enough to be cause for a breakfast of eggs over easy, the potatoes and some crispy toast, the kind of elegantly simple meal that allows for nothing but perfect tastes.
On the lunch side, I have a particular soft spot for the portabella mushroom sandwich, loaded with goat cheese and baba ghanoush, the roasted eggplant dip, another dish that makes even seasoned carnivores forget about meat. Occasionally, I wander over and dabble in the B.L.A.S.T., a bacon, lettuce, avocado, sprouts, tomato and turkey concoction. Pigophile that I am, though, I usually ask for the turkey to be left off for a little more bacon.
“Dress code” is a phrase that’s not in the Duff’s vocabulary, but if there were one, it’d probably be interesting t-shirts and no designer jeans. Despite the casualness, reservations are a particularly good idea on Sunday, when things really roar, but Saturday can be pleasantly easygoing, at least most of the time.
This article appears in March 2024.