Epstein's

There are few more satisfying things in life than being served mimosas and screwdrivers at 11 am in glasses the size of pitchers. And if that is, indeed, your modus operandi on any given Sunday, look no further than Epstein's, where $15.95 will get you a deep-fried burrito and unending brunch cocktails. 

Unfortunately, when I went a couple weeks ago, I was wearing a considerably greater number of layers, and was in no mood to traipse around outside. But still, the neighborhood feel of the venue exists independent of the weather (which was, for the record, very cold). 

It is my firm belief that any and all food is made at least six times more delicious by the presence of alcohol, and when it is as free-flowing and cheap as it is at Epstein's, it does not matter how (relatively) unremarkable the food is. It just needs to be heavy enough to soak up the copious amounts of booze that are simultaneously entering my system. And with a fried, cheesy, pico de gallo-y burrito and the staple home fries as my entree, I had no intentions of complaining or leaving.

And while Epstein's claims to have a time limit (and probably should have one, considering both the lines that form and the rapidity with which you can get very, very drunk), Kira and I almost certainly stayed for longer than the allotted time.

The only thing that ultimately drove me from the establishment was the almost unbelievably slow service (thank goodness the glasses were so large and could hold so much mimosa at once), and the paralyzing cold (I ended the morning huddled next to the space heater). But cold fingers were a small price to pay for a full bottle's worth of champagne (and orange juice for color).