When you walk up to The Butcher’s Daughter, you’ll notice a bunch of lovely ladies sitting at the tables up front, taking a lot of brunch selfies and drinking the requisite pretty girl drink of green juice. Clearly they are here to stick to their juice cleanse and not for the food, because the food here is honestly terrible. Someone needs to let Dad back into the kitchen, because the butcher’s daughter is making a mess of things in the back of the house.
I hate to say it, but the food here represents the worst of vegetarian cooking. You know those nightmares you have where you order a mock “meat” sausage, and it ends up tasting like dried dog biscuit? Those nightmares come vividly to life at The Butcher’s Daughter. An order of the Full English Breakfast consisted of eggs, breakfast “sausage”, beans, tomatoes and mushrooms, and the sausage looked like something out of my dog’s Pup-Peroni Mix Stix package. It tasted like dried dirt and fennel, in case the awfulness did not come across. Again, I get that sometimes vegetarians miss the flavor of meat and want to eat something reminiscent of it, but the mock meat here would only serve to quickly remind them why they converted in the first place. The most edible part of the breakfast platter was the beans, but even so, I’ve had much better beans elsewhere.
My smashed avocado eggs benedict was similarly inedible. There didn’t appear to be any seasoning at all in these sad, pallid poached eggs, not even a pinch of salt. The avocados were also extremely plain and bare. It didn’t help that everything was piled on top of the most unappetizing slice of dry, cardboard-like wheat bread ever. Supposedly there were curry, lime and mustard seed in the avocados, but I didn’t taste them at all. We had to apply liberal amounts of hot sauce and salt to get these things to taste somewhat better, but at the end, I gave up and didn’t even bother finishing the other poached egg. And don’t get me started on the “hollandaise” sauce. This non-dairy version had a strange texture and a flavor that was nowhere near the creaminess or the brightness of the regular version. I was very appalled and disappointed by the whole thing. I did eat my pan-fried potatoes. They weren’t that great, and they lacked that crunchy, starchy coating that the best hash browns and potatoes usually possess, but these were desperate times, and I was so grateful to eat them.
It wasn’t all bad at The Butcher’s Daughter, I guess. The heritage juices are legitimately tasty–I loved the Goddess of Green juice, one of the best green juices that I’ve had in the city, but at $9 it’s a little steep. The Honey Bee was also sweet and refreshing, although probably a little too sweet for my taste. I didn’t like the smoothie of the day, which was a mango lassi that used coconut milk instead of yogurt, because all I tasted was shredded, frozen coconut flakes and zero mango. It was yellowish-orange though, I have to give them credit for replicating the appearance, I suppose.
I’m the type of girl who likes to eat, and I usually end up finishing anything that’s on my plate, so the fact that I left a whole egg untouched is a pretty big sign of how bad the food here was. Afterwards, we walked to the Hester Street Fair and ate some pork sandwiches from Arrogant Swine to wipe out the horrible memories from The Butcher’s Daughter.
I kind of get why the pretty fashionistas line up here for brunch every weekend–bad food is an extremely effective way of sticking to a dainty cleanse. Maybe “eating” at The Butcher’s Daughter will be my post holiday New Year’s clean eating resolution–nothing like recoiling from fake egg sauce to whip you back into cleansing shape.
The Butcher’s Daughter
19 Kenmare St (and Elizabeth St)
New York, NY 10012