Slack & Ease

Antique mismatched sconces and a cuckoo clock up the charm factor at Cafe Topsy. Cherubs and other winged creatures watch over the bar that’s been pressed into service as a pastry counter. Old-fashioned cupboards hold teapots—some curious, while a vase of pussy willows reminds you it’s spring. Heavy, velvet, fall-colored dividing drapes soften the rooms, and upholstered chairs at the beat-up wooden tables enable all-day brunching on Sundays. (Get there before 11 if you want a seat.) The walls hold wood trim and some well-done watercolors; the large Giverny with ragged edging will run you $2700, but a small kitchen-friendly Sweet Peaches goes for $375. Singer-songwriters on the speakers are played low enough not to be irritating. The front of the place opens completely, and while it’s not the most romantic Village view, the avenue address affords extraordinary people-watching. An oversized awning portends sidewalk seating.

We’re soaked, and the hostess has to laugh at our bedraggledness. It’s a big production to fold our umbrellas and get out of our layers and hang them in the back room where a hunched-over reader is ensconced in a corner. The aroma of Cafe Topsy’s coffee ($1.50) elicits "aaahhs" from our table and proves to be the antidote to our drenching. The Irish breakfast ($12.95) comes (luckily for me) with all the coffee you can drink.

"How would you like your egg?" the British waiter asks.

"Over hard," I reply.

"Will they know what that means in the kitchen?"

They did. Along with my egg (as ordered) is a bit of dense, dark, tasty blood sausage, white smoked links, sauteed mushrooms over sturdy toast points of homemade whole wheat, a small bread-crumbed broiled tomato half and a delectable shredded potato cake—crisply fried on the outside, soft and starchy on the inside. And a goblet of o.j. to boot.

A soft brick of bacon and tomato bread pudding ($8) incorporates a custard that makes a home for thick hunks of white bread, shreds of tomato and ribbons of bacon woven throughout. Fragrant white cheese in and over the pudding is brown and bubbly. This is kid food for adults who wish to be coddled. The bread pudding is accompanied by a salad of mesclun and cherry tomatoes, dressed with a slightly sweet, fruity balsamic vinaigrette. More comfort options include shepherd’s pie and cottage pie (the difference: one has cheese).

There’s nothing kid-stuffy about the very serious and intoxicatingly odoriferous macaroni and cheese ($7.95). It’s a most refined dish of penne rigate in a highfalutin bechamel with a melted cheddar topping, finished off with toasted homemade breadcrumbs and Italian parsley. It benefits from a grinding of the peppercorns found on the table. The casserole’s corners are burnt, as they should be, and the serving stays hot; its plate has been in the oven. This is not a rated-G—or even a rated-PG—mac & cheese. It’s rich and filling and comes with a bit of harsh tomato, onion and caper confit for contrast and a side salad on a saucer.

At lunch, there’s a soup of the day—today’s is a large appetizing bowl of tomato and white bean generously topped with rustic croutons. I spy a neighbor reaching across his table to sample it while his lady friend’s off powdering her nose. There’re also daily stews; today’s meat stew is pork forestier with potatoes, carrots and mushrooms, and the vegetarian is tomato-based with artichoke, celery, onion and corn. Sandwiches are built on thick-cut homemade breads and also come with salad. Among others, there’s a chicken curry sandwich, a B.L.A.T. ("A" for avocado) and sharp cheese with horseradish. For heartier appetites: a burger, or fish and chips.

Yogurt with fruit and pastries are available for morning takeout. There’s also iced coffee, tea (Jasmine Pearl is featured today) and the purported "best espresso outside of Rome." There are scones, which in general are best used as paperweights or weapons. Cafe Topsy’s wedge-shaped ones ($1.50) come in cheese or cranberry varieties and are more edible than most. The fruit of the cranberry version is quite nice and sweet-tart, but is unfortunately embedded in a scone. Not to worry, they serve plain and chocolate croissants ($2) as well. Bakewell "tart" ($2.50) is more like a cake. It’s a wonderfully moist marzipan-infused layer over a floor of raspberry jam, in a sweetened pastry crust. The top is golden and embedded with toasted almond slivers.

Most of the conversations here are worth eavesdropping on. Service is practiced and at ease, and the vibe is homey. The front of the house staff will become your new best friends. And after your respite, if you ever leave, there’s a Cafe Topsy paper toy waiting for you at the counter.

Cafe Topsy 575 Hudson St. (betw. 11th & Bank Sts.), 646-638-2900.

Franchia

According to franchia.com: "There are many ways to reduce stress, but one simple and little known way is through tea."

At Franchia, it’s not so little known; I see a woman slide behind a table after her workday and wail, "I neeeed tea…"

The front room is lined with tea-oriented gift items, and Franchia offers illustrated instructions on how to make tea using their tea sets ("Step 7: Take in the fragrance of the tea while drinking slowly.") The inside is far more posh than the casual (yet inviting) outdoor seating area of green umbrellas and molded white chairs would indicate. It’s raining again, so we can’t sit outside. Three levels of dining are set off by heavy dark-wood grating and a bright green alcove. The flowered ceiling in light green is spectacular and attracts my gaze even longer than my compact does. Expansive gorgeous ink abstracts on rice paper dot the walls. A ceramic oil lamp is lit, someone strikes the gong near the entrance, flute music plays.

There is pressure to relax here. We strive to, with orders of citron paste and ginger teas ($5) that come steaming in large covered cups. The ginger has pine nuts floating in it; it’s a little sweet with a fresh ginger-root burn. Strips of Korean lemon clump in the bottom of the cup of citrus tea—it’s a sunny infusion. The menu says these non-caffeinated herbal teas are good for what ails you; at the very least they’ll clear your sinuses. There’s also plum, persimmon leaf, and chrysanthemum. You can get some of them iced. And during the day, you can get your panacea to go for $3. Of course green teas are on the menu as well, including Franchia’s exclusive wild, first-picked, Royal Green from Mt. Jilee ($10).

The table is set with stainless round skinny chopsticks that are sleek but unwieldy (I swear it’s not just me). Franchia promises light vegetarian meals. An appetizer of veggie dumplings ($5.95) holds four large flat crescents with delicate wrappers. I’ve never found a vegetable dumpling that I wholeheartedly liked until now. A saucer of tofu "steak" is placed before us, courtesy of the kitchen. Apparently, it’s a high-grade tofu. But, you know, it’s still tofu. I do like the peppery, complex sauce it’s topped with. And my companion likes the dish just fine, though I doubt even she could get through an entree-sized portion of it.

A large avocado and asparagus salad ($8.95) has a somewhat chalky sesame dressing; I could go for more spice in this. The portion is endless. My entree of green tea noodles ($15.95) is paired with a side salad, and I’m greeneried out. But the coiled noodles are thin, cool, slippery and lightly flavored—fun to eat, and delicious. They also come with almost cakey slabs of sweetened green tea bread—another winner. An assortment of bibimbaps are finished at the table, sputtering and crackling in stone bowls. One pairs cold salad with warm sticky rice ($15.95), and the waiter dresses it with chili paste to your liking. It comes with hot red-tinged kimchi as well as regular. Neither suffer from limpness, and both will put spring in your step.

There are a few desserts, including a soy cheesecake ($6), tofu pudding ($5) and Korean jellies ($5). A plate of Korean cookies ($5) holds three torpedoes of crisped puffy rice cookies that noisily deflate as you bite in. There is also a moist molded cookie that’s lovely to look at, satisfying to chew and honey-flavored. Service is kind, understated and personable, but there are some pacing problems that I imagine, given a few weeks, will disappear. Aside from the stress-reducing, franchia.com lists the medical benefits of green tea: lower cholesterol, reduced blood pressure, probable protection against cancers, blah blah blah. But also found on the list is "preserve younger looking skin." I will of course be back.

Franchia 12 Park Ave. (betw. 34th & 35th Sts.), 212-213-1001.