70 Essex Way, Essex, 802-764-1413

Since moving to Vermont 12 years ago, when I talked about heading to brunch I always followed up with the words "at the inn." The opulent buffet — complete with ice sculptures, charcuterie and made-to-order omelettes and waffles — reminded me of Sundays back in Greenwich, Connecticut.

When the New England Culinary Institute divorced from The Essex Culinary Resort & Spa last year, the buffet slowly dwindled to just a couple of tables, filled with fresh fruit and steam trays. Last month, my beloved buffet went the way of the dodo in favor of an à la carte brunch menu. After giving myself some time to grieve, I gave the new regime a try last Sunday.

A single page of somewhat pricey brunch items was tucked inside the breakfast menu. The reasons for the higher than average charges were quickly obvious — $16 for a Benedict doesn't sound so bad when there’s lobster involved.

The first fun surprise was the "Wake-Up” drink of the day: A glass filled with fluorescent green honeydew-fennel juice. The sweet melon got a rich, earthy undertone from the fennel, but remained the delicious top note. The standard offerings of coffee and orange juice (literally) paled in comparison.

I don't usually associate pasta with brunch, but the "Deconstructed Carbonara" (right) made me rethink my position. The widest pappardelle I've ever seen was cooked to chewy perfection. It was swathed in sauce made from Twig Farm tomme, a darkly sharp raw milk goat cheese. Thick, crispy chunks of local bacon and slices of fresh scallion were scattered throughout. The yolks from a pair of poached eggs seeped into the sauce, "reconstructing" it as I broke into each one.

Better still was the chicken and waffles (right). I was expecting legs and wings on the bone, but was pleasantly surprised to find a single gigantic boneless breast. The meat was pounded to an even thickness, which allowed it to remain extraordinarily juicy and flavorful. The light breading had southern-style spicing that would make the Colonel proud.

The breast was covered in thick yellow gravy that turned out to be heavily flavored with mustard. The mini waffles on the side resembled the ones I'd enjoyed over the years at the Essex — lightly sweet, with an airy center and crispy crust. I had to ask for maple syrup to dress my waffles — mustardy gravy didn't cut it. I would not have objected to some fruit or a small salad on the plate to give it a little color... and nutritional value.

I certainly didn't get my vitamins from dessert. Not that I minded. The molten chocolate “s'more” used a chocolate lava cake as its base. Below the cake (and on the side of it) were pancake-y rounds of homemade graham cracker. A healthy-sized blob of marshmallow was stuck to one side of the cake, bruléed to perfection. The balance was not quite right for something advertised as a s'more, but it was a buttery, chocolaty delight.

Based on the length of the nap I needed after brunch, though, next time I may skip dessert.

1705 Williston Road, South Burlington, 802-860-2009

I believe in second chances. If I try a new restaurant and it's less than great, I give it some time to grow before deciding its place on my very busy dining dance card. Often, there's not much change. Luckily, that was not the case when I made my second visit to the Vermont Sports Grill this Saturday.

The major attraction of the Sports Grill that night was simply that it was open. It was 10:30 p.m. and I was hungry. I asked the hostess how late they served food, expecting her to say they had already stopped. "Until around one a.m." she said. Who does that? Barely any downtown Burlington restaurants serve past 10, let alone those in suburban South Burlington.

Most late night food is strictly of the "open a bag and throw something in the fryer variety." Not at Vermont Sports Grill. My meal started with a bowl of freshly-popped corn, which my server happily refilled as needed. Most entrées at the Sports Grill fall somewhere between $6.99 and $11.95. That includes soup or a trip to the salad bar, and of course, unlimited popcorn.

Though it was hard to resist chicken pot pie soup, I chose to hit the salad bar. It might not be the most inspiring array of veggies I've seen, but the mix of greens, fresh cucumbers and both orange and yellow carrots did the trick, especially when lightly splashed with tangy Italian dressing.

30 Main Street, Burlington 802-658-9000

Vermont will never be like California or Texas. There are not a lot of Mexicans here, therefore, there's not a lot of authentic Mexican food. Or, for that matter, any authentic Mexican food.

I still get misty when I drive Shelburne Road and remember the earthy, sesame-speckled mole prepared by a real-live Oaxacan at the late, great La Carreta. But that era is over. I must sate myself with food prepared by gringos, and when I do, my choice is Miguel's on Main.

My meal at Miguel's began with homemade chips and some of the freshest, most flavorful salsa I've had in Vermont. The tomatoes and onions were seasoned with lots of lime and enough cilantro leaves to make for a day-glo taste. The saucy dip also had just enough spice to create a pleasant burn.

Most of us know carne asada as Mexican flank steak. It actually just means "roasted meat," and at Miguel's the dish (below right) is a combo platter. I call the mixed grill a mini trip to Souza's Brazilian Steakhouse, with a handsome chunk of beef, snappy chorizo and an enchilada. At my meal on Sunday, the steak was cooked beautifully medium rare, but was slightly chewy, not expected of a flank steak. The rugged-tasting beef was drizzled with a sour cream sauce and lots of herbs. The chorizo, plated in a comically phallic manner, reminded me at first bite of a juicy Nathan's hot dog. As I chewed, the spice of the thickly ground pork bloomed to an inferno. This was easily cooled by a taste of tangy carrot and jicama slaw, refried black beans or rice.

A cheese enchilada was a nice addition to the platter, though the sauce on top had dried to a crust. The cumin and chile powder-based punch worked better in a different dish, the chicken enchilada. The tortillas were filled with juicy little bites of meat which tasted of onions and citrus, a nice counterpoint to the deep, dark flavors of the red sauce. That meal also came with refried red beans, the same rice as the other dish and a small salad of iceberg lettuce and diced tomatoes.

I haven't tried it yet, but Miguel's has a mole on the menu. It now sits near the top of my to-eat list. Who knows, maybe soon, I'll miss La Carreta a little less.

3182 Shelburne Road, Shelburne, 802-985-2232

Not every business in the Vermont Fresh Network is fine dining. Scouring the list of restaurants that are members of the localvore association, I came across numerous joints that one might never guess would focus on serving local produce. Buono Appetito Italian Restaurant in Shelburne, better known as Buono's, was one of them. Who knew the family who owns the red-sauce Italian place had a passion for keeping things fresh? I had to give it a try

The dimly lit dining room was filled with grandmotherly types Sunday night. A mural on one wall depicted a Venetian scene, complete with a scarf-sporting gondolier. Our server brought menus and asked if we would like a cocktail before dinner, an invitation I heard repeated as each party arrived at the restaurant. She also made note of the special, a burger made of beef from LaPlatte River Angus Farm and Cabot cheddar. It was $14. Seriously. The Burlington area is rife with overpriced local burgers, but this was the most expensive I've seen yet.

38 Main Street, Winooski, 802-497-0289

There may be eight Vietnamese restaurants in the Burlington area, but I still get excited each time a new one opens. I'm always eager to discover new dishes, and I am also perpetually searching for the perfect pho. The one at Pho Pasteur may not be the ideal, but it is a keeper.

The lacquered bowls are pretty at cozy and clean Pho Pasteur, in the space that used to house 38 Main Street Pub. However, the soup is not one of the more attractive ones I've seen. 

Don't let its slightly bare appearance fool you. The broth packs a flavor wallop. The base is richly beefy, but the sweet, meaty notes fade in the face of a strongly aromatic mix of spices. 

As the soup approaches, the cinnamon and cloves are so dominant that it almost smells like hot cider is on the horizon. Anise provides a nice licorice twist. The beef in the bowl arrives still raw in places, but cooks to a delicious brown at the table. The basil, bean sprouts, lime and jalapeño's on the side are fresh and tasty. All-around, one of the best.

I was delighted to see several dishes I had never tried before, such as a rice dish with Korean short ribs. The mound of grain came with an ample side of nước cham, a wonderfully balanced rendition of the tangy fish-sauce-based condiment that accompanies many Vietnamese dishes. The beef was crisp and lightly charred on the outside, with an interior of sweet and gingery meat and molten fat. The carrots, cucumbers and cilantro on the plate were perfectly fresh, even though it was Sunday evening, not exactly produce prime time.

The stir fried beef with lemongrass and crushed chili peppers is a far cry from the sweet and sour flavors common in the majority of this area's Vietnamese dishes. Bright lemongrass and earthy pepper combine in a surprisingly comforting way. The whole was flavorful enough that I ate the vermicelli without giving it a nước cham bath.

The best part? There are still lots of things I want to try. For example, several unique spring rolls including ones filled with chicken or charbroiled pork meat balls (one of my favorite things). And I have to save room for an avocado smoothie. Luckily, I live nearby!

84 North Main Street, St. Albans 802-527-0669

Sometimes I wish I were a restaurant consultant instead of a reviewer. Every once in a while, I have a dinner that makes me want to grab the restaurateur by the shoulders and talk some sense into him. That was how I felt at the Blue Acorn. Nothing was inept — in fact, many things were good — but the restaurant is in need of some hand-holding.

The spellings on the menu were the first hint that something was slightly amiss. Poutine was written as "pouitini." One drink, composed of amaretto, Frangelico and Chambord, is called "Your Nuts." I assume the owners intended to assert that the drinker is crazy, but accidentally made a reference to the old dingly-danglies instead. A proofreader was clearly in order.

I ordered the apple-stuffed chicken (right), which came with a choice of two sides for $15. When I asked for risotto, I was told it had been discontinued. 

Given the name of the entrée, I expected to receive a roulade. What I got instead was two nicely seasoned but small chicken tenderloins with a pile of apple slices placed between them. I feel pretty solid on the definition of "stuffed," and this was not it. The chicken also appeared to be missing the advertised maple glaze. 

147 North Winooski Avenue, Burlington 489-5268

I recently wrote about my obsession with Chicken Charlie's. Lately, I have craved rotisserie chicken the way pregnant ladies jones for pickles and ice cream. Luckily, the North End Rotisserie opened Labor Day weekend.

It was difficult for me to drive by all week on my way to work and not stop in. I felt like the empty chicken suit waving customers in at the door was calling to me specifically. On Saturday, I finally had time for dinner at the new spot.

The bright space is filled with poultry-themed knick knacks. If you're one of those people who find chickens and their beady little eyes creepy, you will be thoroughly frightened here. 

I ordered at the counter and was served immediately. Food might be kept warm and served cafeteria-style, but it is fresh. A giant chalkboard on one wall lists the ever-changing sides, which number nearly twenty. Most entrées come with two of them. Despite that, nothing is more than ten dollars. 

I took the opportunity to try three such meals, and even with drinks, my total was less than thirty dollars.

I started with half of a rotisserie chicken ($9.49). Unfortunately, the bird had come out of a hot box, and its skin was crêpe-y and not at all crisp. The sweet glaze with which it was coated was pleasant, but I was disappointed by the lack of crunch. This is likely a growing pain, and I hope when the cooks do learn to keep the skin crisp, they are still able to produce as tender and juicy a breast as they did on Saturday.

Choosing sides was difficult, but mashed potatoes are always a must. Here, they were wonderfully clumpy, though also creamy, and tasted as much of garlic as of potato. A portion of stuffing was smooth and herbaceous. 

The options I chose to accompany my meatloaf ($8.99) — which was moist and seasoned with pleasantly smoky chipotle peppers — were less conventional. I went crazy for the orzo salad. Its dominant flavors were fresh basil and tangy feta —just my style. I was less excited about the "creamy, cheesy spinach." Though it, too, had chunks of feta, it was reminiscent of spanakopita filling, and not particularly creamy. Next time, I look forward to trying watermelon salad or baked mac 'n' cheese.

The night's greatest success was the individual-sized chicken pot pie ($4.99). it was very small, but was bolstered with a big chunk of cornbread, as are all the meals at North End Rotisserie. I have long fetishized the cornbread I got from Boston Chicken (now known as Boston Market) as a kid. These individual loaves looked and tasted exactly the same, though they were made from more coarsely ground cornmeal, and were not quite as moist as my childhood favorite.

But back to the pie: It was perfection. The big chunks of chicken were well-seasoned, the veggies (carrots, peas and celery) fresh. The sauce was creamy and flavorful with a home-y touch that I can't quite place. Maybe it was love? Either way, I'll be back for another one soon. And to try some berry bread pudding.

3 Southerberry Drive, Milton 893-3313

I miss diners. Real diners. Greek diners. I'm from the New York area, and our Vermont burger shacks, run by folks with French or English last names, just don't cut it when I'm truly in the mood for a diner experience. I missed the shiny, silver buildings that I was used to, as well. The metal monoliths have always colored my memories of grabbing a great breakfast or plate of pastitsio at one of my hometown favorites. That is, until I stepped into the Apollo Diner's gleaming embrace this weekend.

You don't expect to see a giant, metallic building in Milton, which makes the first sight of the pink and blue-edged box even more exciting. Inside, the first thing you see is a dessert case filled with huge pies, also as it should be. I was home.

Our server had to be the youngest woman I've ever seen in a diner waitress dress, but the restaurant is new and I suppose she'll age into it eventually. Though my beloved pastitsio (according to my mother, the first solid food I ever ate, and still one of my favorites) is only available occasionally as a special, there is always moussaka. To cast a wider Greek net, I ordered a combination plate.

I was particularly excited to try the sizable square of spanakopita on my huge plate. It looked so buttery, so light. Unfortunately, it was also powdery, likely the result of a pile-up of flour on the brush used to apply the butter to the phyllo wrapping the spinach pie. The inside could have used a bit more flavor, but I greatly appreciated the big chunks of feta that added a nice, salty tang.

2150 Main Street, Waitsfield, 802-496-7555

In Burlington, when a yen for handcrafted, farm-to-table fare hits, The Bluebird Tavern and The Farmhouse Tap & Grill are obvious options. Outside of the Queen City, the choices dwindle drastically. Whether you're near Waitsfield or not, I recommend that you hightail it to the The Barn Door.

The 1824 House, right along Waitsfield's main drag, was long known as the spot to hit for a formal, European-inflected dinner. Connie and Dean Mendell — of The Village Porch Bar & Bistro in Rochester —  re-opened the inn this June with a more casual restaurant that strikes both global and local chords. Ever since I saw the menu, I had been gasping to give it a try.

I wasn't disappointed. How could I have been, given that I showed up during "beef week?" Each week, chef Luke Stone — a protegé of Maura O’Sullivan and Charles Reeves of Penny Cluse Café — plans several specials around the goods from one local farm. A small sandwich board on the side of the road trumpeted this cycle's main ingredient: Beef from Orb Weaver Farm in New Haven. Though I was tempted by homemade spaghetti with herb and shallot meatballs and garlic bread, I decided to try a couple of menu staples instead, made with meats from 1824's regular suppliers.

But first, there were rolls. Oh, the rolls! Like wheat Easter eggs with a doughy inside and chewy crust. The spritz of butter alongside was the size of my (small) fist, and was not only eminently spreadable but wonderfully creamy and salty.

The grilled bread on which the burger was served was similarly fresh, chewy, and best of all, buttery. The beef, from Gaylord Farm, was roughly ground in-house. If you don't like your burger a little chunky, this is not the patty for you. The beef flavor was strong and substantial. I would go as far as to say... manly. My first bite resulted in a gush of juice I had only experienced before when chomping on wagyu.

Though the beef was not from Orb Weaver Farm, the cheese was — the farmstead offering resembled a very mild and creamy cheddar. The cheese helped balance out-of-this-world maple-cured, house-smoked bacon and an assemblage of button mushrooms so crisp and salty that they existed merely as an extension of the bacon's awesome power.

A smattering of greens on top provided a refreshing zip, as did a trio of sweet, house-pickled gherkins. Fries were crisp and came with a container of the house ketchup. Not as fruity as the ketchups made in-house at other local restaurants, this condiment tasted mostly of tomato and onion with just a hint of spice. I also got some garlicky aioli on the side, presented in swirls, as if it had come out of a tiny pastry bag.

The house-made bratwurst came with sharp, grainy mustard, but I preferred to enjoy the well-rounded, beer-bolstered taste of the juicy pork on its own. The mild sauerkraut was also delicious and fresh-tasting. To further sweeten the deal, the plate was piled with grilled roots, including a perfectly round potato and a petite onion.

Though already full, I had to give a final salute to "Beef Week" in the form of dessert. Whenever possible, Stone tries to integrate the theme ingredient into a dessert: During cabbage week, there was cabbage and cherry strudel with Guinness-caraway ice cream. Another recent menu included candied tomatoes in vanilla syrup with lime ice cream and almond tuile. This week, it was rice pudding made with beef marrow, surrounded by ginger and anise-marinated melon. It was my duty as a food writer to try it.

Okay, it looked like brains. All rice pudding looks like brains. Get over it. Not all rice pudding tastes like beef fat. The flavor was right out of the barnyard, but still sweet and unquestionably a dessert. Did I like it? I have no idea. It was interesting. Either way, I can't wait to head back and try more Iron Chef-level creativity, using exactly what's at its prime that week.

951 Main Street, Fairfax 802-849-0265

One of the first places I ever ate in Vermont was the Country Pantry in Fairfax. The year was 1996. It was spring and kids were playing baseball in the field nearby, the scent of fresh manure drifting all around. The food was great. I was completely won over by the hot turkey sandwich, with its flavorful yellow gravy, crisp fries and colorful presentation (see top photo on right).

Over the years, the Country Pantry, later AJ's Country Pantry, remained my favorite spot for hot turkey or a huge, cheap breakfast. It closed late last year. Jack Foley, owner of another good breakfast spot, 158 Main in Jeffersonville, reopened the joint as Vermont Breakfast Company in February.

After a suitable period of mourning, I finally gave it a try on Sunday. The first signs were good: The full breakfast menu is served until 4 p.m., when abbreviated options kick in. There was a wait for a table, too, even at 1:30 in the afternoon, just like the old days.

The space was slightly spiffed up, but mostly the same. The photos of livestock, for example, were still in place on the walls. The menu promised plenty of enticing options, both new and old. I briefly considered bananas Foster pancakes or a sausage, egg, cheese and rosemary breakfast sandwich. However, I knew the best way to judge the place would be to order the same things I did when I reviewed AJ's Country Pantry in September.

For about the same price, I got a couple of thin (though wonderfully tender) slices of turkey on home-baked bread with a side of crisp fries. I missed AJ's cranberry sauce, the coleslaw, the orange section...even the light showering of parsley — basically, color (see bottom photo on right). The offering with would have been okay, despite slightly thin and over-salted gravy, if it did not compare so wanly the older and better balanced rendition.

When a place has breakfast in its name, it better be good. Luckily, the farmers breakfast at VBC stood up well to its predecessor. The big breakfast plate at AJ's included just one type of meat: At VBC, you get two juicy sausages and two hearty slabs of exceptionally smoky, peppery bacon. The two eggs were cooked to ideal over-medium. Ultra-thick french toast can be made from any of the six home-baked breads on the menu. We went with white, and the centers of the well-soaked slices reminded me of a light, moist soufflé. The outside was crisp, with a pleasant hint of cinnamon that paired deliciously with maple syrup. The home fries appeared to be baked, despite their name. They were lightly dusted in Cajun seasoning, and acted as a slightly spicy foil to the sweet and salty breakfast items.

All in all, I learned my lesson: Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and when eating at VBC, I shouldn't skip it.