The last time I went to The Post Brewing Company in Lafayette, it still hadn’t opened. What a difference a few months makes. The mess of ladders and power tools had been replaced with a buzz of activity as servers darted back and forth between the packed tables, delivering brunch to the large wooden tables lorded over by Big Rosie, the Post’s pet elk head.
But despite the big-city bustle — and the discerning tastes of Big Rosie — my dining companion and I were seated and lost in the throes of a giant cup of coffee and a pecan roll almost as soon as we walked in. Not. Too. Shabby.
The Sunday brunch menu has a few crossover items from the chicken-centric dinner menu, but focuses more on traditional breakfast items like roast beef hash ($11) and a delicious-sounding egg-battered slab of Texas toast dressed up in bourbon apples ($9).
But my dining companion and I went elsewhere in Brunchtown. I ordered the chicken and waffles ($9) and she the veggie scramble, made with tomato, goat cheese arugula and a side of red potatoes ($9). On the side was a bowl of green chili mac and cheese ($3) — the cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast — and another waffle.
While waiting — which didn’t take long — it became crystal clear that The Post is ‘effin cozy. Aside from its ode to decapitation, it’s done up in roughhewn wood decor, with light fixtures made out of whole logs suspended from the ceiling blended with a modern industrial vibe. It’s all very log cabin chic, and a great place to wile away a Sunday morning with an oversized cup of coffee or seven. ’Cause, holy bejeezus, does The Post give you a giant mug. Normally, you’d have to climb a beanstalk to get a barrel of coffee like that. Hayo!
My waffle was a little soggy from the chicken atop it, a problem that might have been addressed with a thicker waffle, but the pumpkin batter was a good match for the battered and fried chicken. The gravy on the side was thick and smooth, and paired excellently with the small serving of maple syrup. As a bonus, the chicken was topped with a few pieces of vinegary cauliflower.
The green chili mac and cheese wasn’t in the casserole style, hewing closer to a bowl of macaroni doused in queso, but it was as rich and decadent as a flourless chocolate cake, and likely to make you just as sick if you eat too much of it.
My dining companion’s veggie scramble was slightly curious, as the veggies listed on the menu were mostly on the side instead of in the scramble itself. But it delivered. Her buttermilk side waffle ($3) came with a nice pecan butter that made it enough to serve as a meal on its own.
But instead of accepting defeat, we ate it all. After which, our server pitched us on taking a pie to go. I was surprised he didn’t call us Hansel and Gretel because it was clear his plan was to fatten us up and eat us.
My dining companion made the mistake of entering our behemoth of a breakfast into a calorie counting app on her phone. It pretty much said we ate all the calories. Everywhere. Suck it, Africa. This is Big Rosie’s house.
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