Great Maple

You will know you are not in a cookie cutter mall chain from the first bite. Great Maple takes the obvious comforts and pushes them slightly off balance: a ribeye hash so salty and tender it reads like brunch with attitude, portobello mushroom fries that arrive dusted and crisp, and a fried chicken and doughnuts plate that is both sacrilegious and irresistible. The room is sunlit, with a patio that faces a sculpted fountain and a steady procession of shoppers and dogs. Service leans attentive, almost protective; they will check your coffee and then leave you to the meal. It is shiny and modern but not timid about sweetness or butter. Expect noise and a crowd on weekend mornings, and bring company: most dishes are built for sharing. Before you leave, pocket the small Great Maple postcard they hand you at the host stand.