Tryst

Tryst is a fancy-ass restaurant in Arlington that Talls and I had avoided partly out of concern for the price and partly because on the weekend we’re jeans and t-shirt people and this doesn’t strike me as a jeans and t-shirt place.  But one weekend our friend Jenn was over, and we wanted to take her to a new brunch place but not, like, have to fucking drive or something crazy.  So Tryst it was.  Everyone who worked there was lovely, there were no comments on our attire, and the food was great.  Also, it was Restaurant Week still (I swear it lasts for a month in the Boston area.  This is not a complaint.) so it was cheaper than it would have otherwise been.  Bitchin’!

Every morning should start with a fancy-ass duck taco.

There were two courses, because fucking-a Restaurant Week menu, and I went for the starter that said “duck.”  Like “maple,” “french toast,” and “bacon,” “duck” is one of my go-to menu words.

Talls was crunchy granola as he tends to be.

Jenn went for a peanuty thing.

For the main course we stuck with our buzzwords, but they were all fancy and delicious so it worked out well.

Me: french toast!

Talls: huevos rancheros!

Jenn: eggs n’ meat!

Jenn and I agreed the coffee was delish, and Talls loved the juice.  The atmosphere was nice, and as we were there earlier it wasn’t packed.  If you want a fancy place to eat tasty food that won’t bitch you out for sipping your coffee with a pinkie out, this is your place.