The Hipsters Love 'Em Some Deer Heads

Freemans

The hipsters were thick along the alley that day, slouched in expressive poses against the exposed brick. It was just another Sunday brunch rush at Freemans, a recently uber-trendy, now merely fashionable restaurant tucked away on the Lower East Side. Our group of four was greeted pleasantly enough by the tattooed host with requisite mussed hair, and we took up a post just outside the window to wait and wilt in the heat. Luckily we didn't wait long.

I've been to Freemans before, but I doubt I'll ever get used to its rustic decor. By "rustic," I mean dead animals -- lots of 'em. A deer head here, some antlers there, a goose frozen in flight. It's meant to be kitschy, presumably, and it is. Thankfully Freemans doesn't rely on decor and trendiness alone: the food, which could be described as rustic American, is solid.

Case in point: the white Cheddar cheese grits that accompanied my poached eggs, creamy and decadent, with grilled tomato on the side to cut the richness. Mr. H's smoked trout (with hardboiled eggs) was very tasty, especially with the accompanying spark of horseradish cream.

I'm not sure how willing I'd be to brave the hipster scrum on a typical weekend night, but on a weeknight, or a lazy weekend midday, I'll muss my hair, arch my eyebrow ironically, and try to blend in.