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The Little Kalamata Kitchen and Taverna
4405 Kingston Pike
909-9900

by Ally Carte

Sunday brunch is often the highlight of my weekend. Which isn't to say my weekends are boring—although lately, a day spent watching paint dry, or worse yet, watching golf, would be more of a thrill than I could stand—simply that a good Sunday brunch shines like a lighthouse on coastal rocks, a well-deserved moment of clarity after a few days of over-indulgence and of sanity before plunging back into the hectic week. This simple meal is relaxation mixed with the slightest hint of decadence, of a hardwood floor littered with the Sunday New York Times, a cup of good coffee at arm's reach. America was built on Sunday brunches.

Given my druthers, I'd have a team of able cooks at my beck and call who would be able to whip up some French toast, a perfectly poached egg, crisp bacon and fresh squeezed orange juice on my whim. Sadly, (sad to me, anyway), economics stands in my way. For some reason, the world at large thinks that rent needs to be paid before a flock of Culinary Institute of America-trained chefs can be hired. And this is yet another reason why the world gets on my nerves.

Regardless—and if I weren't so dang lazy—brunch is something I could put together myself. I could wake up before the rooster's crow, toss on some pork products, some potatoes, and an egg or two, brew my own coffee, get my own paper, and squeeze my own oranges. And I could get up even earlier and work in a brisk morning jog. Since the odds of all of this happening are about the same as Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl stopping in for a nosh and a chat, I simply make reservations.

A few—very few if the truth be told—good brunch places are sprinkled about town, places such as Sunspot or the Italian Market and Grill or the Copper Cellar. But now there's a new dog on the brunch block, and he can easily run with this pack of old favorites. Jim and Lori Klonaris, whose original Kalamata Kitchen in Farragut is still my favorite Souvlaki slinger, have opened a new joint in Western Plaza, across the parking lot from Fresh Market.

The new eatery is a little smaller than the mothership, crammed into what used to be CC Coffee and Café, another great brunch spot depending on who was cooking that day. The Klonaris' have knocked down an adjoining wall, taken over the next-door formerly-retail space, painted the whole she-bang their trademark burnished gold with black accents, and set up a new Mediterranean kitchen. While most of the old favorites are still on the menu, a few smaller dishes have popped up as well, including more sandwich choices, dips, and pastas. I'm sure all of these new faces are just as gorgeous as the old familiars, but I've been distracted by the weekend brunch, which also offers these lunch- and dinner-y type eats as well as more standard breakfast fare.

The breakfast offerings of the brunch menu cover well-explored ground. Eggs Benedict of many stripes (including a smoked salmon sauce) as well as frittatas, oatmeal, and batter-dipped breads all make an appearance. On the Sunday we went—after rounding up another pair of brunch lovers—the place was packed. Fortunately, I'd used my dialing finger and made a reservation, which I strongly (strongly!) recommend.

The brisk business and demand for their brunch, apparently, had caught the servers, management, and kitchen by surprise. Service was remarkably slow, unlike the Kalamata's Farragut location that has efficient—if at times overly so—delivery of food. Hopefully, this will be overcome soon, because the food is top notch, if not quite worth the wait that we had endured.

The French Toast ($7), custardy, not-too-sweet slices perfectly grilled, was topped with a brown sugary Bananas Foster and tasted simply divine. The Frittata—kind of a light, fluffy scrambled egg pie—came served with crisp, tender asparagus, earthy mushrooms, slightly acidic sun-dried tomatoes, and sharp, creamy fontina cheese ($8). Sirloin strips ($10) came with poached eggs covered in lemony Hollandaise and a few crisp cakes made with red-peppered and mashed potatoes. I couldn't resist the Eggs Benedict with Apple Smoked Bacon ($8.50). The texture of this thick bacon was the perfect foil for the rich sauce and the runny poached egg yolk, which was also nicely absorbed by the potatoes and toasted English muffin slices.

While these dishes were by and large well done, they seemed to suffer a bit from sitting too long on a pass shelf, resting under the warming lights while the slammed staff scurried around, dealing with the sheer number of people they had been unprepared for. But this is a slight quibble—the food was still very, very good. A larger complaint could be made over the coffee, a watery, somewhat stale brew that lacks the gustatory wallop that such good dishes need.

Regardless, until my crack team of Sunday brunch cooks arrives, the Kalamata's offerings make it well worth getting up and getting dressed. Not a piercing lighthouse beam quite yet, but well on its way.
 

April 19, 2001 * Vol. 11, No. 16
© 2001 Metro Pulse