This post was a long time in the making. Long ago, I resided within walking distance of this pub/amazing land of Sunday brunch and would go way too often to revel in the amazing french toast. This was before this blog, of course, which came about as a joke between me and Talls that occurred after I moved away. Six plus months later we FINALLY got back to my old stomping grounds (Ha! Joke!) and the french toast was just as good as I remembered.
Look at this delicious motherfucker!
Caramel banana brioche french toast. This is the best fucking pile of food ever. This was the first french toast I’d ever had that didn’t need maple syrup – the amazing stuffed french toast at Veggie Galaxy was the second.
Eggs, yogurt and granola, turkey bacon, corn beef hash, and home fries.
We only go on Sundays because Super Talls likes the brunch buffet and I have it on his authority that the Saturday buffet is subpar. He does two full plates AND takes a muffin for the road, so clearly the Sunday buffet is excellent. It has everything freshly made/cut there, and I tend to steal eggs from the boy to round out my carb fest. These are also lovely.
It was a lovely day, there was no line at 11 when they open at 10, due to it being in a college student-heavy area. They sleep in late. You can always booze up with your brunch if you want here, and the coffee and orange juice are great as well. I’ve always enjoyed the waitstaff, who are at the very least competent and very often fun to talk to.
And for you crafters out there, it’s also a wonderful to do swear-oriented projects!
This post was rather clean because the cross stitch has absorbed all my swearing.
Brunch the Fuck Up 