There's something special about watching a chef finally get their own space. Eric Brown spent years honing his craft through Thick Neck, a pop-up that earned a devoted following despite its temporary nature. Now, with Frank & Laurie's, he and co-owner Sara Watts have created something that feels both polished and deeply personal.

The restaurant occupies a sunny corner space that floods with natural light during the day. It's the kind of place that makes you want to linger over coffee, where the atmosphere invites conversation and the food rewards patience. The name itself—Frank & Laurie's—speaks to Brown's approach: this isn't about ego or trends, but about honest, heartfelt cooking that honors the people who shaped him.

The crispy pancakes are a must-order, and they arrive as advertised: golden-brown exteriors giving way to fluffy interiors with just the right amount of chew. They're simple in concept but executed with the kind of precision that separates good from great. Paired with real maple syrup and a pat of cultured butter, they're proof that sometimes the classics just need to be done right.

But it's the quiche that truly showcases Brown's talent. The custard is silky and rich, barely set, with a filling that changes based on what's in season. On a recent visit, it featured roasted mushrooms, caramelized onions, and a sharp aged cheddar that provided the perfect counterpoint to the cream. The crust—often an afterthought in quiche—is here given its due: buttery, flaky, and substantial enough to hold everything together without overwhelming the filling.

Friday nights bring Frank at Night, a weekly dinner service where Brown really lets loose. The menu is whatever he's inspired by that week, whatever ingredients caught his eye at the market. One week might bring roasted rutabaga with smoked clothbound cheddar and apple—a dish that sounds humble but tastes like autumn distilled into its purest form. Another might feature whole-roasted flounder with a spruce tip sauce that tastes like walking through a pine forest after rain.

This is cooking that respects ingredients, that understands that the best food often comes from restraint rather than excess. Brown isn't trying to reinvent the wheel; he's just making it rounder, smoother, better. The portions are generous without being overwhelming, the flavors are bold without being aggressive, and the prices are fair without feeling cheap.

The service matches the food's ethos: warm, knowledgeable, and genuinely happy to be there. The staff can tell you where the eggs came from, why Brown chose that particular cheese, what makes this week's Friday dinner special. They're not reciting a script—they're sharing something they believe in.

Frank & Laurie's fills a specific niche in Providence's dining scene. It's not trying to be the fanciest restaurant or the trendiest spot. It's simply trying to be a place where the neighborhood can gather, where the food is made with care, and where you leave feeling a little bit better than when you arrived. In that mission, it succeeds beautifully.