I was sad to see Double Crown go. I loved the space - a mix of British colonialism and Asian exotic--and enjoyed several very good meals there. But the owners--the chef, Brad Farmerie, the design team at AvroKO, along with Partner Dan Rafalin --had a hunch that Double Crown might be better suited for a smaller space. They'd also been bouncing around the idea of an American grill -- Saxon + Parole -- and could not find the right space. So they decided to pack all the elements of Double Crown into a large storage unit until a more intimate space became available, and reopened it as Saxon +Parole. The switch was a wise one.

Saxon + Parole, which is named for two 19th-century racehorses, works well in the cavernous corner-of-the-Bowery space, filling it out beautifully. With its open air stable-chic décor--iron horseshoes, riding blankets, bridle and tack, and weathered barn wood accents--it feels warm and leafy, like a rustic North Salem horse farm crossed with a 1830s blacksmith shop. The sweet smell of hay and the more ripe scent of manure, most often associated with horses in my world, are both missing, but I think that's best for all involved. When the design firm AvroKO is at work, visual cues are all that are needed.

Like the décor, the menu is a much more straight-forward American affair than its previous cross-cultural occupant. It's a traditional grill, kind of a steakhouse plus, I'd say. There are pork chops with purple potato salad and quince and apple sauce ($29), five-spiced short ribs brewed for hours in pints of Guinness ($44). There's a roasted organic chicken with oranges and olives ($24), and big fat juicy steaks-a fillet ($33, 7 ounces), a bone-in NY Strip ($48, 16 ounces), and a Bone-in Ribeye for two ($90 for 32 ounces). There's also a Maine lobster, grilled whole with sun-dried chili butter and pickled tomatillo (MP), and a whole roasted branzino stuffed with toasted panko and parmesan ($32). Appetites are well-served here.

At a long overdue brunch date with Court, we caught up in a big booth by the door, and watched groups of guys and girls amble over to the Make Your Own Bloody Mary Bar like children heading to Disneyland. The need for internet dating would be completely eliminated if single folks simply visited Make Your Own Bloody Mary Bars more often. Just saying. While boys and girls mixed horseradish, Worcestershire, and tomato juice with capers, olives, sea salt, pepper, and celery, we dug into cups of tea (green for Court), and strong coffee for me. Once was a time we'd have both been at that MYOBMB, several times at that. We were young once. Now we are attempting to undue the effects of our riotous youth.

For brunch, we shared a few dishes on a menu that includes pancakes (buttermilk ones, topped with whipped crème fraiche and spice-poached pears), a French toast made for Elvis (it's stuffed with bacon, banana and housemade nutella), and eggs (both baked with capers and tomatoes, and poached over Smithfield ham and potato cakes).

We started with the razor clams ($10), which are served a little like you might lobster salad, chopped up with egg, lemon aioli, and topped with caviar, with toast points. This is one of the more unique razor clam preparations I've ever seen, and while it was not what I expected, it was delicious--like a little summertime picnic. Next time, I will add a Bloody. It would have been the right accompaniment.

While I don't usually order sandwiches at brunch, I decided to take a chance on the Big BLAT ($12)-bacon, lettuce, avocado and tomato. The chef makes his own seven grain bread and slices it the long way so that the slices are giant rectangles - think shoebox in size. The bread is nutty and grainy, and slathered with a nice smoked paprika mayo that adds heat and color to thick slabs of wildly smoky bacon, creamy avocado, sweet beefsteak tomatoes, and fresh crisp lettuce. The flavors work; this is nothing all that new. But the brilliant part of the sandwich? It stays together. You are not saddled with the "squish" effect of most BLTs, in which the ingredients that are meant to stay between the bread are mashed out the back of the bread so that all you end up eating is, well, bread. This baby stays together. Though it's served on a handsome butcher block with a steak knife for cutting it in two, it's worthy of an heirloom pedestal crafted from porcelain. It's that special.

One of the dishes that you might think to skip over was actually one of my favorites. It's the poached quince, a fruit that has never gotten the props it deserves. When treated right, as it is at Saxon + Parole where it is steeped in a syrup that tasted of cloves, ginger, cinnamon, anise, and orange, this tart mongrel of a fruit shines, becoming a perfect accompaniment to vanilla yogurt and granola, cleverly baked into little cookie/crackers.

The S+P Burger ($17) is probably something you have read about by now, and I'll say that it does deserve the press. It also deserves its own cardiac surgeon, preferably a specialist in catheterization from The Cleveland Clinic. A juicy, dry-aged Angus beef burger gets topped not just with cheese - a couple of melted slices of Pennsylvania Havarti in this case, but also a fried egg, and layers of maple bacon. A vat of tall, salty fries comes along too, naturally. If your insurance covers it, I'd get one.

After such a nice brunch with Court, I returned to Saxon + Parole last week for dinner with Dawn, Deanna, and Rachel, three girlfriends whose kids are Emily's BFFs (read: they chase each other and refuse to share). We get together once in a while without the kids to drink and catch up as the ability to have an adult conversation around a team of four two-year-olds is challenging in the same way as it must be for the Kardashians to shop at Target. Not going to happen.

We met at the bar around 7:30 on a Thursday night, and while the place was mobbed, we found each other quite easily. Perhaps it was because we were the only women there over the age of 40? Perhaps. The crowd was as you might imagine. On the men, fedoras, beards, and tweed. As for the leggy ladies, I noticed knee high boots and long tunics; no pants, leggings or tights needed, apparently. Not sure when pants became optional, but it's happened. Shirts, yes. Boots, yes. Coats, maybe. Pants, nope. It's a look. And I must say if I were still in my 20s and 30s, I'd work it too.

The absence of pants aside, the bar is an absolutely wonderful place to drink. Lovers of fine cocktails--those poured over hard icy Kold Draft cubes, made with housemade bitters, using syrups and potions and tonics brewed by hand-will want to invest some time here. That's thanks to a charming Aussie chap called Naren Young, a barman who proudly admits that he's been hooked on cocktails since he first saw the film Cocktail in 1992. He kicked off his career working in noteworthy bars around Sydney, Australia, including The Monkey Bar, Grand Pacific Blue Room, Middle Bar, Lotus, and Bayswater Brasserie, which was recognized as the 4^th "Best Bar In The World" by Drinks International magazine.

Naren, I'll be honest. You know your stuff. The Manhattan you brew in batches and serve on tap (yes, there is a Manhattan on tap at this bar) is just lovely. Balanced between the sweet smoke of W.L Weller 12 year, and the aromatic slap of Jon's leather bitters, it's quite the perfect drink. Dawn, Rachel and I each had one. I'd have had another if I knew I wouldn't drop shortly thereafter. I will also add that beyond the taste, the way it's served, poured perfectly into a crystal cut martini glass, with a petite tulip shaped beaker of Manhattan on crushed ice for ample refills, with dark, bourbon-soaked cherries? Well, it just made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, and outside too. I was transformed into a Muppet, a happy, blue, fuzzy one at that, not one of the grouchy guys from the balcony.

Farmerie, a Michelin-starred chef who has cooked at the The Providores in London, has hit a nice note at Saxon + Parole. He's serving a menu that's at the other end of the spectrum from his more exotic fare at Public and Double Crown. There is no kangaroo, no crazy curry. This is a menu that's aims to take a more simple approach. It wants to satisfy. And it does.

If I were you, I might treat S+P as a more glamorous steak house and I'd start your meal with a seafood tower. It's an indulgence but well worth it. (Kind of how I feel about the MZ Wallace bag I bought for myself last summer, come to think of it.) Anyway, the towers come in a variety of sizes ($20-$125) well-stocked with oysters, clams, a gorgeous hand-cut salmon tartare, fully seasoned with capers, roasted peppers and a tiny soft-boiled quail egg, PEI mussels with piquillo peppers and tomato and capers, and massive shrimp with sriracha cocktail sauce that might mean the end of horseradish forever.

A traditional country salad gets a makeover with Brussels sprout leaves standing in for the more conventional and wiry frisee. Brilliant. It's topped with a nice runny poached egg, nuggets of smoky bacon and a shower of nutty toasted hazelnuts ($13). Great salad. The only thing that I'd have skipped is the truffle-yuzu hollandaise dressing. To me, it took away from the flavors of the salty smoky bacon and the rich creamy egg. I wanted those to shine, and instead they were rather smothered.

You could go for a steak or a burger, but you might also go for something a little different. While I am not usually one for vegetarian options, I was feeling in the mood for something other than steak the night of my visit and so I opted for a bowl of sweet potato and miso tortellini ($20). The size of dumplings, these handmade tortellini are napped in brown butter, sage, and parmesan and given a bit of peppery finish from a handful of fresh arugula. I'd love to make these at home. If only.

Another wonderful surprise on the menu is a collection of "pots," in particular the mushroom mousse, served in a Wek jar (identified by Dawn), capped off with a shimmering jelly of Whiskey and truffles ($10). This is a must-have, I don't care if you usually dive into the foie, you will want this. Don't turn up your nose at the fact that's it just mushroom. It's some sort of magical formula (maybe an armful of butter) that has turned these earthy mushrooms into a duck liver mousse, with the same rich, unctuous, artery-clogging flavors. It's marvelous.

Service at S+P is, as you'd expect from this team of veterans, excellent. (As is the soundtrack, particularly at Brunch. I'd like the playlist, please.) The GM is Linden Pride, who like Naren, is also an Australian import. Pride was the former operations manager of some of Australia's top drinking and dining destinations (Rockpool Bar & Grill Sydney, Spice Temple Sydney, Spice Temple Melbourne, The Waiting Room, and Rockpool Bar & Grill Perth) and worked in some of London's most influential bars and restaurants, including the Michelin-starred, Hakkasan. He runs a great room, one that emphasizes service with sweetness. Both times I wanted to hug my server after dinner. I am like that though. I like to hug people who are really knowledgeable, who work hard, and who treat me well. Not sure what that says about my personality, but I'll leave that up to you to decide.

Quite frankly, I also wanted to hug the pastry chef, Rob Rohl, the man behind the restaurant's fantastic desserts ($9 each), in particular the Mother-in-law's Christmas pudding (actually the recipe of Farmerie's brother Adam's mother-in-law). It's moist, sticky, fruity, chocolately, citrusy, rich, and decadent. Hanukkah needs this pudding!

The doughnuts, fried and served warm (with holes and all), are dusted in sugar and come with a vanilla and a chocolate dipping sauce. Neither sauce is really needed, but hey, if you're offering? Why not. And don't leave without a slice of the silken cheesecake on a graham cracker crust garnished with slices of that same quince from brunch. It was delicious. And I was ready for another Manhattan. See you at the bar. I won't be hard to find.

Saxon + Parole is located at 316 Bowery, at Bleecker Street, 212-254-0350, http://saxonandparole.com/

Andrea Strong