There's a particular kind of New York restaurant that achieves something rare: it becomes both a Times-starred destination and a genuine neighborhood fixture, the kind of place where you run into the same faces on Saturday evening and Sunday morning alike. Chez Ma Tante, which opened in 2017 in Greenpoint, is that restaurant. Co-founded by Aidan O'Neal and Jake Leiber, both veterans of the downtown institution Café Altro Paradiso, it earned two stars from Pete Wells on opening and has only grown quieter in its confidence since—the sort of establishment that doesn't need to announce itself because word travels through the neighborhood in whispers and Instagram stories and, more importantly, through the pancake dreams of devoted brunchers.
The pancakes deserve their own paragraph. Cooked in cast iron and fried in clarified butter until the edges achieve a shattered, crisp-edged perfection, they are widely (and correctly) cited as the best in Brooklyn. They are not delicate. They are not precious. They are substantial and golden and come with maple syrup, and they are one of the very few things guaranteed to get you out of bed on a Sunday. But Chez Ma Tante is not a one-trick restaurant, which is perhaps why it has transcended the typical brunch-spot category entirely.
The menu reads like a checklist of bistro classics: kedgeree, falafel, tortilla española, Caesar salad. On paper, it's nothing revolutionary. In practice, everything is turned up several notches. The kedgeree arrives as a careful composition—curried rice, poached cod, celery salad—each component distinct and balanced. The falafel is crisp-fried, served with hummus, harissa, cucumber, and za'atar in proper proportion. Even the Caesar salad, a dish that restaurants abuse regularly, arrives with radicchio, breadcrumbs, and aged cheese that elevate it beyond reflexive ordering. This is cooking that respects its foundations without genuflecting to them.
What's notable about Chez Ma Tante's ascension to the Times' 100 Best Restaurants list is that it hasn't required any performance of ambition. The all-white room is still spare and unpretentious. The service is still warm and unaffected. The prices still feel honest. Resy recently called it "the Ultimate Neighborhood Restaurant," and they were right, though that title carries more weight now than it did in 2017. The restaurant has evolved from an underrated corner spot into a genuine destination without changing the essential things about itself—a feat rarer than any two-star review.
If you've been meaning to make the Greenpoint pilgrimage, stop deliberating. Go on Sunday morning when the light hits the white walls and the kitchen is in full pancake rotation. Go on a weeknight if you want to linger over kedgeree without the noise. Go because this is one of the few restaurants in the city that has figured out how to be both excellent and itself.