A Month of Sundays: Brunch at Dai Due
Breakfast and lunch: 10am-3pm Tue-Sun
Dinner: 5-10pm Tue-Sun
By Mike Sutter | © Fed Man Walking | 12.01.16
Know this going in at Dai Due: There will be smoke. In your food, on your clothes, in your hair. The kitchen’s blazing wood fires see to that, fires that burn like a pre-industrial logging camp commissary. Jesse Griffiths' pioneering field-to-table aesthetic is more than myth and marketing. It’s right there in the air and on your plate. Breakfast and lunch bleed together here six days a week, but “brunch” is too wimpy a word to describe it. Just roll up your flannel sleeves and eat.
What you’re eating
► Centex Breakfast: A sampler of the Dai Due experience, this farmhand’s breakfast rolls out roasted sweet potatoes in their skin-on shaggy glory, two lush and diminutive farm eggs with ambered yolks and grilled venison sausage with lean field flavor in a spicy, full-fat patty. Grits and a biscuit round out the campground experience, a biscuit as thick and hard as a cobblestone with a heart like stone-baked bread and rough-cut grits with the rare quality of tasting like the corn from which they came. ($15)
► See a sample menu here
What you’re drinking
► Tallow Coffee: The New Age spirit of butter coffee lives in this cup. But don’t confuse this with the coconut-butter coffee from places like Picnik. The froth and cream in this cup comes from beef fat that takes the effete ritual of the coffeehouse and turns it into a gladiator sport. Drink it while it’s hot, because the hard shell of fat that forms as it cools will make you feel like you’re drinking from the bacon-drippings jar. ($4)
► Stonefruit Shrub: As lush and fatty and rough as Dai Due can be, this is the palate cleanser, a spritzer of tart and funky drinking vinegar with a suggestion of fruit. ($3)
► Alcohol: Dai Due pours Texas beer and wine on draft to go with its short, smart bottle list.
► Cinnamon babka: If this butcher shop thing doesn’t work out, Dai Due could get into the bakery business. This knotty little pastry folds into itself like a Shel Silverstein poem. A twistable turnable cinnamon roll with glazed ridges. ($4)
A Month of Sundays: 31 Austin brunches
(Photos by Mike Sutter © Fed Man Walking)