John Pertz thinks about avocados every single day. Obsesses about avocados is perhaps a more apt description. His menu at Briarpatch Restaurant requires loads of them. And good luck to anyone who tries to source a reliable supply of the buttery berries (yes, avocados are technically berries).
Yet, avocado toast obviously requires avacados, as do Cobb salads, turkey sandwiches and multiple dishes made with eggs. Pertz, however, is deeply into sourcing the key components of pretty much every dish on his menu.
For example, there’s the turkey to be brined and roasted; the multigrain bread that’s ordered solely for the avocado toast; and the brioche laced with honey and lemon zest that’s among the hush-hush ingredients used to prepare the iconic eatery’s famous French toast. The ciabatta for the sandwiches? That’s made in-house daily.
If you haven’t been to Briarpatch in a while, it’s time to return. While the Park Avenue stalwart has been a go-to for breakfast, brunch and lunch for about 40 years, it’s now dramatically different from what it had been: A glorified ice-cream parlor (albeit a remarkably busy one) with just-OK food and service colder than the scoop in your cone.
The evolution occurred slowly and with no fanfare. Over time, new owners stepped in and began to upgrade and update the aesthetics, the menus and the hospitality. Today, you’ll dine on trend-forward, scratch-made fare in a vibrantly sophisticated space while sipping handcrafted cocktails and barista-made coffee foams.
Why didn’t we all know this? “We’re not very promotional people,” says Pertz, an almost comical understatement. “We didn’t have one big plan.”
Pertz runs the kitchen while his mother, Celeste, manages the dining room. His father, Joe, prepares pastries and cakes: chocolate layer cake, carrot cake, red velvet cake and strawberry cheesecake. “I thought the place was ready for a makeover back in 2009,” adds Pertz. “Getting it there took a fair amount of time and money.”
Founder Helen Whittington Woodall opened Briarpatch in the early 1980s with her first husband, Coleman Holt. Celeste and Joe Pertz bought the business in 1989 following stints as partners in Winter Park’s East India Ice Cream Co. and the opening of other restaurants in Sanford and Lake Buena Vista.
When the younger Pertz reached adulthood, he moved to New York City to work in finance but returned in 2010 to help run the family business. “I fell in love with food when I lived in New York,” says Pertz, who switched careers and learned elevated cooking techniques at the French Culinary Institute (now the International Culinary Center).
Change, as I said, came gradually. In 2015, the interior was heavily renovated. Today the kitchen is designed for efficiency while the dining room has a sleek look of whites and woods and is enhanced by playful string-like globe chandeliers. (Still, many prefer to dine outdoors, along the sidewalk, and watch the parade of humanity traverse the city’s signature boulevard.)
The menu changes are directly related to John Pertz, who aimed to raise the bar on daylight dining in Winter Park. “I think many people are willing to pay for quality,” he says.
That meant stretching the budget to procure “an armada of cheeses”—the finest blue cheese for the Cobb salad, the finest truffle gouda for the truffle burger and so on. Other splurges involved basics not as readily apparent to casual diners.
“Our cooking fats are olive oil, extra virgin olive oil and clarified butter,” adds Petrz. “You don’t want to hear what cooking fats other restaurants use to make breakfast.”
Recently I began a Briarpatch meal with a simple cup of coffee—and had to ask repeatedly for milk or cream. Next time I’ll get the dirty chai iced latte, a destination-worthy beverage topped with cinnamon-flavored foam. The staff makes the chai syrup weekly, measuring precise amounts of chai spices (“We have about a million of them,” says Pertz) as well as sugar, cardamom, orange zest and star anise.
The same prep crew creates all the syrups for specialty coffees and creative cocktails, such as the “fluffy” margarita, the prosecco peach bellini and the bourbon blackberry lemonade. (There’s also a nice beer and wine selection available.)
How does all this back-of-the-house fuss play out on your plate? So well that I insist you visit soon. Go on a weekday, unless you’re willing to hang around for a while as you wait to be seated—as many patrons seem more than happy to do.
Every item I tried over two visits was phenomenal. I can’t even name a single favorite.
I can, however, name several favorites. For breakfast, the raspberry lemon cream pancakes are fluffy with just enough tooth. They’re made from buttermilk batter and served with a gently tart homemade raspberry sauce and a dollop of lemon zest-steeped whipped cream. The griddle also serves up dark chocolate chunk banana pancakes, “blue heaven” wheat and fiber pancakes and other concoctions.
I also loved the short ribs Benedict, which was a savory sensation. Instead of an English muffin on the bottom, you’ll find potato latkes—OK, OK, “potato hash”—crisp outside, moist inside. On top are stewy shards of beef simmered for 24 hours in “a million different chiles,” including a little chipotle. (A million spices? A million chilis? The place doesn’t seem big enough to store them all.)
But I digress. Two poached eggs make the short ribs Benedict even more filling and fulfilling. And let’s not forget the mini bowl of hollandaise sauce enlivened with its own dash of dried chipotle. Of course, the menu includes additional Benedict choices as well as an array of omelets and scrambles.
You can, if you wish, keep it simple for breakfast at Briarpatch. Some diners prefer a couple of eggs, a hearty sausage patty or a savory cut of smoked bacon from the ala carte menu, which also includes toast, biscuits, cheese grits and a short stack of pancakes.
Others, however, choose to shoot the works with the Southern breakfast. It’s quite the feast, alright, featuring fried green tomatoes, thick-cut applewood-smoked bacon, two eggs, jalapeño sour cream and cheese grits. Pertz felt compelled to get a little artisan with the grits, which come from stone-ground heirloom cornmeal.
Expect to bring home a doggy bag, especially because you’ll also want a side of house-cut home fries—and you’ll almost certainly eat too many of them when your order arrives. You’ll never enjoy a run-of-the-mill diner version of home fries again.
Preparing meals of this caliber requires a load of manpower since, for instance, the pancake batter is made in tiny batches so that it’s always fresh. On weekends, says Pertz, one person pumps out a new batch of batter every half hour.
For lunch, hordes of patrons choose various items made with house-roasted prime sirloin, including the French dip sandwich. Burger fans, too, chow down on prime-grade beef whether they choose toppings straightforward or inventive. The prime black-label blend burger, for example, is made from prime whole-muscle ground ribeye, short rib and chuck.
Despite Briarpatch’s changes, it does have one forever dish: the chunky chicken salad. “That was probably on the original menu,” says Pertz. “It has been in this town for 40 years and has always been popular. I don’t want to mess with that.”
Veggie or meaty, sweet or savory, with caffeine or cocktails, Briarpatch is plating it up seven days a week. Believe me—this is not your parents’ Briar-
patch.
Briarpatch Restaurant
252 North Park Avenue, #3814, Winter Park
407-628-8651
thebriarpatchrestaurant.com