It’s a fact that there aren’t many diners in the District, something that’s by and far relegated to the suburbs of MD and VA. It’s also a fact that I love greasy spoons and diners because of the fact that you can get breakfast orders in just about as late as you’d like during the day. So Jen took me off on an adventure to explore the city, navigating the streets of Capitol Hill until we reached our destination…Pete’s Diner.

Pete has long since come and gone both in ownership and in life, but the two little Asian ladies that run it these days aren’t short in character or energy. The diner is strange hodgepodge of eclectic decorations, from fake fir trees, spray-painted bamboo decorations, Chinese calendars, police badge collections, even a Buddha shrine, this is everything I’d think of putting together in a strange culture clash of a restaurant and calling it the Chinese American Diner. Even the coffee here, albeit a bit on the weak side, is served in giant Chinese tea cups.

The diner does offer traditional American breakfast favorites, including a variety of omelets. Jen had a Spinach Omelet with Swiss Cheese, while I opted for the Western – whipped up with bacon, snausage, green peppers, onions, tomatoes, and cheese. It’s served with a hefty serving of home fries, toast, and topped with a ‘this little piggy’ sprig of bacon.

Pancakes are also on deck- I ordered a side of Sweet Potato Pancakes to share with Jen. Fluffy, moist pancakes that unfortunately aren’t gluten free, but for most people, that’ll work out just fine.

While nothing about the food or this diner stands out as extraordinary, it does serve as a nice little anchor of dining space to give Capitol Hill a bit more color. The owners are vocal, jovial, and aren’t afraid to get a little friendly- one of the owners started to touch and coo over my bicep, while the other admonished her.

“HEY! NO TOUCH CUSTOMERS! LOOK ONLY!”

As it turns out, the one thing I can’t count on my girlfriend for is to save me from being molested from tiny Asian ladies. Thanks for the help, babe.

All in all, a tiny greasy spoon like this isn’t the type of place Jen and I would go to again and again, but it’s a nice little neighborhood spot, crucially placed right next to the Library of Congress. They also offer a number of sammiches, milkshakes, soups, subs, salads, and amazing meal deals to keep a little extra scratch in your wallet.

Make sure you’ve loaded up on hard currency though, this place runs strictly on cash.

See Pete’s Diner on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Frugalistas
• Paleoheads
• Vegetarians
• Zone Dieters
• Greasy Spoon Gorging

Not Recommended For:

• Black Tie Brunches
• Organic Omelets
• Five Fork Placesetting Feasts

Eatonville celebrates the life and works of 20th century African American writer Zora Neale Hurston, can be found directly across the street from Busboys & Poets, all part of the Andy Shallal restaurant empire in DC. The restaurant proudly offers the most southern of southern cuisine in an eclectic atmosphere of graffiti murals, delicate chandeliers, and rocking chairs for you to rock away the sweltering summer heat. Or at least rock away while people walking outside in the summer heat with the enormous windows that look out to the busy sidewalks of 14th street and beyond. The nuances of this restaurant just might make you reckon that you’re fixin’ to have a meal in somebody’s backyard, with picket fences, mason jar cups, and wood siding reminiscent your great great gran-ma-ma’s house.

If your great, great gran-ma-ma wasn’t some sort of ruthless dictator’s wife in Eastern Europe, that is.

The gumbo, made with crab, rock shrimp, andouille sausage and rice touts a little bit of kick with the faintest taste of peppers. The soup itself isn’t very thick and stays closer to a soup rather than a proper roux, but that suited me just fine. A bowl here is just enough to whet your appetite, but it lacks the heartiness, leaving you pining for more.

Jen ordered the Almond Crusted Charleston Toast, an impressive stack of thick cut bread, coated with slivered almonds and powdered sugar, then topped with a Grand Marnier fruit compote and a creamy dollop of sweet mascarpone cheese to match. I really liked the house’s rendition of the traditional french toast order, making it wholly their own, with a casual yet thoughtful presentation.

I’m a sucker for fried chicken, so I didn’t hesitate to take on the Callahan- a fried chicken breast served on a buttermilk biscuit with jalapeno-sausage gravy and accompanied by a serving of extra sharp cheddar mac’n'cheese and collard greens.

This dish was good, but, fell a bit below my expectations. Biscuits tend to be a bit on the dry side, which is expected, but I didn’t have any bit of jalapeno-sausage gravy to soak them in. That’s like throwing your three year old into a giant 200 gallon baby pool you’ve dragged home from Wal-Mart because it was on sale (ROLLING BACK PRICES, EVERY DAY!) but failing to filling the damn thing with water. Disasterous. I was expecting a giant pool of sausage gravy, and instead, I have the sub Saharan desert taking up an third of my plate.

To their credit, the mac’n'cheese is pretty good, as are the braised collard greens. I’ll make the most of a bad situation.

While I really like that Eatonville takes creativity and inspiration to their dishes, and even though I really want to love this place, I can’t say I’d wholeheartedly recommend eating here unless you’re a gambling type- dishes are very hit or miss. The service here is very good, and there always seems to be ample seating both indoors or out, if you prefer to soak in the sun. You can even come here and think about how the Eatonville, FL of Zora Neale Hurston’s youth is the home of everybody’s favorite Disney mouse today.

See Eatonville on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Gospel Grubbers
• VIVA LAS VEGAS!
• Panoramic Peoplewatching
• The South’n Hospitality

Not Recommended For:

• Biscuits’n'Graaaaaa…great expectations
• Paleoheads
• Sillystring Showdowns
• Freegans

Indian food isn’t the first thing I think about when I think of Easter. I tend to think of rabbits and eggs, and wonder how this German tradition beat out the resurrection of Jebus in popularity. Easter is also the first real holiday that the ladies can step out in sundresses and ridiculous hats, and boys posing as men can walk around in pants with tiny embroidered animals all over them, paired with a seersucker jacket and consider themselves fashionably prep.

Speaking as someone who doesn’t currently own a screaming child of my own (I’m worried the layaway payments will kill me), it’s hard to find an Easter brunch, and a buffet at that, that doesn’t come chock full of screaming toddlers at every adjacent table. Bombay Club, one of the finer dining Indian cuisine restaurants, does so beautifully.  The restaurant serves a hard to beat price for their buffet brunch ($25 a person at the time of this writing), with an option to upgrade to a bottomless champagne brunch ($35 a person at the time of this writing), and a 80 year old man banging out the best in classical music on the piano to boot.

The selection is high quality, but options are limited to two tables, with each table hosting about 8-10 choices of food and dessert. For the price, atmosphere, and childless crowds, this is a deal that’s nearly impossible to beat on any Easter or Mother’s Day Brunch.

See Bombay Club on a map here.

Jen and I have been trying to get a table at Birch & Barley for months. That’s not to say that they don’t take walk-ins and put your name on a list, but it takes a bit of foresight and putting in reservations at least a week in advance to get a table here without milling about near the front door for an hour and a half, staring at the floor, wondering when was the last time you’ve shined your shoes or painted your toes.

Jen and I have been dissuaded from eating here numerous times after conversations with the hostess would go like this.

Me: Hi! We’ve really been looking forward to eating here. Can you tell me how long the wait is?

Hostess: Sure! It’s going to be a 90 minute wait.

Me: Really? A 90 minute wait?

Hostess: Yep! 90 minutes.

Me:

So we finally made it in for a Sunday Brunch after putting reservations a week in advance, mostly on my part to try their Luther sandwich after reading about it here on the Washington Post. A sammich so secret, it’s not listed on the menu. A slab of fried chicken topped with strips of bacon, served in between a maple donut? I didn’t actually think stuff that delicious existed in real life without the aid of half a bottle of absinthe and trading in your soul to the Devil. But it does exist, and I was determined to have it. Mine. All mine.

That is, until I saw the menu.

Birch & Barley’s boasts a wide selection of mouth watering plates, so amazing that I decided I was better off ordering what was on the menu than the quasi-imaginary dishes that were not.

With fried chickum on my mind, I didn’t hesitate to order the Fried Chicken & Waffles. Large chunks of moist, tender chicken, battered and fried, served with belgian waffles lightly dusted with powdered sugar, buttered pecans, and a maple-chicken jus to bring it all together. Wow. This dish was damn good.

But why stop there? I mean, if I’m not going to be eating paleo for a meal, I might as well burn it to the ground, right?

So I did just that. A side of a Warm Sticky Brioche Bun, topped with Brown Sugar Caramel, Pecans, and secretly containing a Cream Cheese center. I figured, if I’m not ordering the Luther sammich, I might as well order the equivalent of a deconstructed version. An amazing accomplice to the Chicken & Waffles, I was forced to eat this myself after Jen regretfully declined the opportunity to send insulin levels skyrocketing.

Suit yourself! I wish there were words to properly describe how this Brioche Bun makes you feel. It’s like…it’s like…

Yeah, it’s a bit like that.

Just to be sure that I had enough to eat, I also put in another side order of 2 fried duck eggs, served with tiny hash brown squares and enough greens to liven up the plate, but not much more than that.  I did appreciate the fact that the yolks were given the proper treatment, a gentle flick of fat/oil on top of each, but the egg whites were a bit too rubbery for my liking.

If you’re going to cheat on your diet, make sure you cheat with your entire heart.

Or stomach.

Jen, ever the source of reason, rational thinking, and alcoholic tendencies (I kid, I kid), ordered the Whiskey French Toast. Giant, inch high slabs of toast, served with local gala apples, candied walnuts, a dollop of mascarpone cream cheese and bacon, which she asked to have removed from her plate in favor for extra apples.

A girl who turns down bacon at any given opportunity, and I still love her. I think that speaks volumes.

The service here is on par with the food. Unpretentious and top notch, I’d easily make my way back here for another meal. With such good food, service, and atmosphere, it’s not hard to see why Birch & Barley won the 2010 RAMMY award for best restaurant, or why we’ll be coming back again soon.

See Birch & Barley on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Brunch
• Vegetarians
• First Dates
• Horrendous Hangovers

Not Recommended For:

• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• Fancy Nancys
• Prom Dinner

There are plenty of great neighborhoods in NYC, but SoHo comes pretty close to the top of the list for great streets to wander around in during the day.  Accompanied by friends who are better acquainted with the city, we stopped into one of their favorite places to get a drink, Public.

I’ll share a little secret about myself.  I love old school libraries.  Giant cabinets filled with typewritten cards, each marking the exact location of a book through an archaic numbering system.  There’s something about the whole thing that makes me nostalgic, as I spent a lot of time in libraries when I was younger.  It’s been a number of years since I’ve stepped into that sort of environment, so much so that walking into Public was a little like stepping back into a comfortable and familiar living room that I’ve never seen before.

The interior design of Public is comforting yet vaguely academic, a perfect place to find respite from the madness of life, a place of solace that a library served to someone in their most formative years, long since gone.

Wooden surfaces and vintage lighting speak inaudible words of warmth, while cubbyholes, nooks, and crannies prove that everything in here, no matter where it is, is in its right place.

The food here is just as comforting as the restaurant itself.  I was never once left unimpressed with the quality and freshness of our dishes.  The Irish breakfast, for instance, was nothing short of inspired, despite an outward appearance of simplicity.  Two poached eggs on a slab of bread, two slices of black pudding, a bourbon soaked fig cake, and half a roasted tomato.  Rawr.  Presentation and execution gets top marks from me.

The venison burger, while a little bit smaller in portion than I expected, still turned out to be a winner.  I’d even be willing to call it the Rudy burger. Served in a miso bun with tomato chili jam, watercress, cassava (potato root) chips, and a trio of sauces, I happily plowed through my order, but a backup side of black pudding didn’t hurt.  The black pudding had the texture of toast, but the aroma and flavor of meat.  Not for the uninitiated, but the exploratory are well rewarded here.

Desserts don’t let up on the intensity, either.  This fig tart and sorbet combination stays keeps the focus on the fig, which is a perfect way to top off your meal.

Service isn’t the greatest here, but I wouldn’t call it the worst, either.  Not enough to detract from the restaurant, but then again, we sat at the bar, so table service might be a tic better.  I highly recommend stopping by Public if you find yourself in the neighborhood for a truly excellent meal.  Even more so if you’re looking for a glass of wine to get you through your day.

See Public on a map here.

Recommended For:

• O’Briens, McDaniels, Murphys, Quinns, Fitzgeralds, and the Magees
• Vegetarians
• Oenophiles
• Hangover Helper
• First Dates

Not Recommended For:

• Zone Dieters
• Bibliophobes
• Pre-gaming before the Yankees get out on the field
• Last Dates

Founding Farmers is another restaurant owned by the same group that operate Agraria Farmers and Fishers in Georgetown.  The restaurant uses the same reclaimed olde timey milk bottles for their water and same emphasis on fresh, wholesome ingredients, and the same contemporary-yet-rural design throughout the restaurant, which really like.

Just a couple blocks away from George Washington University’s main campus, it’s a very popular location for students to come drop in for brunch, although this is no student dining hall.  A huge menu provides a wide variety of tempting dishes, from skillets, french toasts, steaks, eggs, and teas.  They even have a rather decent vegan menu selection, which only further displays the restauranteur’s forward thinking of the type of people who live in the city these days.

The Banana Fluffer Nutter instantly stands out on the menu as a great opener to the meal, but in reality, falls a bit short of expectations.  Organic Peanut Butter, Banana slices and homemade marshmallow fluff served on half slices of whole wheat bread with crunchy chocolate giblets and peanuts should be absolutely amazing, but the best part of this dish was the presentation.  However, I could see this one being an order that knocks it out of the park with the kids because of the simplicity.  It’d probably help if our waiter had actually brought it over as a starter instead of having us to remind him to put in the order close to the end of the meal, but it still remains as something fun and different on the menu.

Not to say that there aren’t other dishes that hold their own in fun and different.

How about french toast?  But let’s take it up another notch, soaking fresh brioche in a brandy creme anglaise, and then stuffing it with a rich vanilla pastry cream.

Harbingers of Death

BOOM.  Tell me those don’t look like a deep fried twinkie at a Texas county fair.  My friends who ordered the stuffed french toast both said the same thing while savoring each bite. “Oh, I don’t want this to end.”  The dish comes with a pad of fresh whipped butter and syrup (natch), and looks to be a great way to start out any brunch excursion.

Founding Farmers also offers a more tame version of their french toast, still soaked in the same brandy creme anglaise, but without the hot magma core deliciousness of the other.  Simple and satisfying, you can’t go wrong with this version, either.

Another interesting pick on the menu is the Fried Chicken, Egg, and Waffles.  The meat is actually a free range chicken, served with a side of gravy and whipped butter.  This is another dish that seemed to have wholly unexpected strengths and weaknesses.  For me, I’d almost expect the proportion of chicken to waffle to be more of along the lines of 1:1, but as you can see here, that’s just not the case.  A few chunks of chicken, while very well prepared, seemed diminutive in comparison to the waffle.  The gravy was more of a cream, lacking the thickness I was expecting.

The poached eggs I ordered were…well, decidedly not poached.  Kinda poached?

All that being said, the waffle was downright amazing.  Fluffy and crispy, this is a fantastic waffle, which I’ll attribute to both the batter used as well as the skill of the cook.  Any longer on the iron and this waffle would have turned slightly more brown and crunchy, rather than this golden hue of perfection.

The service here is friendly, but a little bit lacking.  Our waiter was not available nearly enough to check on our meal, and the the slight gaff of missing one of the items we ordered was an easy enough mistake for anyone to make, but still makes for a staff that I’d completely gush about.

My feelings about Founding Farmers is mixed.  There are something things here that really stand out as being spectacular, and then there are some dishes that seem like complete flubs.  I commend Founding Farmers for really taking some chances with their offerings, which in the end, will definitely have me coming back for another brunch in the future.  There’s also enough on the menu to please just about anybody’s palette, with even an All You Can Drink Water and Ice Cube Crunch Buffet for the anorexics.

On a scale of awesome, I’d rate Founding Farmers as a 3.5/5.

Or if you’re the visual type, it’s about this awesome:

See Founding Farmers on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Brunch with the Out-of-towners
• Vegans
• Vegetarians
• A nice pot of french press coffee after a long day of protesting the IMF or World Bank next door

Not Recommended For:

• Anybody who knows how Chicken ‘n’ Waffles is done.
• Carbophobes
• Speed Dating
• Announcing your candidacy for president of the Golden Girls fan club

photo credit: developerimplode.com

Pienza Italian Market at the Gaylord National Harbor Hotel offers an enormous smörgåsbord of food for their Sunday Brunch, and definitely not geared towards the casual, light fare eater.  I’ve been here on numerous occasions, and have richly enjoyed every visit.  The restaurant is a giant biosphere-like enclosed atrium of the hotel, with a riverside view that looks out towards Old Town Alexandria, and intermittent planes passing through the sky en route to land at Reagan National Airport.  One of the best parts of having brunch here for me is catching the after church Sunday crowd, because the entertainment alone is worth the admission of the buffet.  Giant, ridiculous hats that could pass for proper headwear at the Kentucky Derby, and dresses to match.

And boy do I love me some hats.

But enough about the plentiful entertainment, how about some photos of the buffet?

Several large bread baskets offer up almost every kind of baked good you could want, such as croissants, muffins, rolls, and pastries.  My favorite here?  Go for the chocolate chip pastry, which I always tend to eat half a dozen of.

There’s a cold bar, with fresh fruit, vegetable salads, seafood salads, cocktail scrimp, and smoked salmon, which I raided on my first foray…

A hot bar with fish, roasted chicken, lasagna, bacon, snausages, scrambled egg, and cheese tortellini…

…All part of a very nutritious and “this is gonna make me Fatty McFat Fat” meal.

There’s also another station serving up pizzas, freshly made-to-order omelets, and carved roast beef for you to stuff your gullet with…

Or you can have at the waffle station that comes armed with all fixin’s, like whipped butter, whipped cream, strawberry sauce, syrup, and the like.  Note that the bacon here is a little on the weak side, so be prepared to have an extra helping of snausages.

Just make sure you save some room for dessert.

Besides the various types of cakes (and sometimes éclairs, on a good day), they also have cherry cobbler, peach cobbler, and both chocolate and vanilla ice cream on hand.  Sprinkles? Check. Crushed Oreo cookies? Check. Insulin syringes?  Better bring some in your jacket.

I love the fact that all the plates are so vibrant and rich in color.  Each table has a cup filled with forks, knives, and spoons, which lends a casual and unique touch.  The service here is pretty good, with dirty plates being cleared every time I went to get another round of food.

At around $40 with tip, it’s hard to say whether this is the right place for the average buffet diner.  It’s definitely an experience, and the atmosphere here is top notch, but the cost is a detriment from making this as regular of an occurrence as I’d like it to be.  Parking in the adjacent garage can be validated by the hostess for up to 3 hours, which gives you enough time to walk around the surrounding National Harbor area to check out the various art shows and boats down at the dock.

See Pienza Italian Market on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Competitive Eater Training Sessions
• Brunch Buffet Buffs
• Sunday Celebrations
• Out of town family visits

Not Recommended For:

• Zone Dieters
• Paleo heads
• Nitpicky Noshers

Jen and I stopped by downtown San Francisco for lunch on a layover, and we made a beeline straight for one of her favorite Mexican places in the city – Colibri Mexican Bistro.  The restaurant gives off a sleep post siesta atmosphere during the day, and the perfect setting for a rambunctious and lively watering hole at night.

The guacamole here is good. Damn good.  Like trade your sister who made you walk home every day after practice because she was too busy making out with some jock during high school good.  The menu says it’s made fresh at your table, which I never witnessed, but I’m always one to believe that guacamole is one of those rare foods that’ll instantly tell you whether or not it’s been made fresh or from the day before.  Fresh guacamole just has a je ne sais quoi that guacamole savants like Jen can tell whether it’s the not so fresh…stuff.

Anyways.  Behold. The sacrificial stone mortar of guac.

The guacamole arrives with hand searingly-hot homemade corn tortillas and a trio of salsa, which started one of the most beautiful guacamole soft taco binges I’ve ever been involved in.  Well, except for the soft taco binge of ’86 when I had that chance encounter with those midget twins from Wisconsin while high on unicorn meat and absinthe, but that’s a story for another day.

We also split an order of the Tamalitos Colibri, a small plate of corn dough stuffed with Oaxacan cheese and drowned in tomato sauce, queso fresco, and white corn.  The end result was something that tasted like it came straight out of Chef Boyardee’s private recipe book.  Not a bad dish per se, but with a flavor that so strongly resembled something you ate after class in grade school (or college, for some of us), it wasn’t a big hit with either of us.

For our entrees, Jen ordered the Huevos Rancheros.  Two eggs cooked over easy on a blue corn tortilla, served with salsa molcajeteada and the smoothest refried beans I’ve ever tasted.  I mean Barry White smooth.

I opted for the Caritas omelet, a generous portion of juicy pulled pork, wrapped in eggs and then dressed with sala ranchera, served with more of those Barry White refried black beans, Oaxacan cheese, and potatoes.  BAM.  Awesomeness.

And just to make sure we had enough food (in fact, the waiter wanted to make sure just how much food we were getting into here), I also put in an order for the Torrejas Colibri – a homemade cinnamon coated Mexican pastry that’s somewhere between french toast and bread pudding without being either, served fresh berries, mango, and left to drown in a pool of honey agave sizzurp.  Er, syrup.

Brunch here was exactly what I needed on our layover.  Lots of homemade foods, worth the venture outside of the airport that serves up little more than TSA approved reheated meals of flavored gruel, in your choice of consistency.  Prices here are more than reasonable

Colibri’s my new favorite go to spot for Mexican in San Francisco.  Now I just need another opportunity to visit.

See Colibri on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Guac Jocks
• Vegetarians
• Mexican Delights (that’s not some weird nickname for a sex position)
• First Dates
• Second Dates
• Fresh, Homemade Tasting Food

Not Recommended For:

• 21 Consecutive Tequila Shots
• Singing “My Little Buttercup” to your fellow patrons
• Zone Dieters
• Deliciousness Defiants

There are plenty of places waiting to lighten the load you carry in your wallet along the Inner Harbor in Baltimore, but for the most part, they tend to be chains headquartered in other states, with little actual Baltimore flavor.  This statement does not mean ‘tastes like Old Bay seasoning and hooker tears’, but rather, something that’s in Baltimore and nowhere else. So to find a more unique and local dining experience in the Inner Harbor is a nice treat.

Jen and I randomly came across the listing for Miss Shirley’s Cafe, and headed over to grab breakfast on a particularly overcast and drizzly morning.  The location is on the ground floor of a large office building, with the restaurant tucked away in the back.  The entire lobby of the office building is transformed into a large waiting area/overflow dining area on the weekends, which only added to our belief that we had set upon the start of a fantastic dining experience.

We sat down at a booth and scoured the menus.  Jen, as per usual, honed in her selection, while I continued to pour of the offerings in search of the most cheatiest of cheat meals available.  After considerable deliberation and several days later, we got our order in for breakfast.

Jen’s order of Pumpkin Cheesecake Stuffed French Toast turned out to epic in proportions.  Two giant slabs of challah bread, filled with pumpkin cream cheese and graham cracker crumbs, then given a generous dusting of cinnamon and powdered sugar, served with a dollop of whipped cream and a mini-pitcher of maple syrup.  This dish tasted amazingly good.  I teared up a little bit after having a bite of her dish, and this time, it wasn’t because I had just snorted a teaspoon full of Tabasco sauce (but that’s an entirely different story for an entirely different time).  This dish will have no problems satisfying even the most ravenous of breakfast seekers, although in my opinion, it could use a little bacon worked in there somewhere.  I guess that’d pretty much nix it for vegetarian options though.  You can’t please everybody.

I ordered the What Came First, the Chicken or the Egg? dish. A boneless fried chicken breast on a biscuit, with a poached egg on another biscuit, served up with a ground beef and sausage gravy.  This dish could have been fantastic, but it fell a little short of expectations.  The flavor is definitely there, as is the presentation.  However, the chicken breast was less of a breast portion and more along the size of a large wing.  The amount of gravy was also a bit on the light side for a description that mentions “smothered”, and simply did not come in a large enough portion to accommodate two biscuits in the order.  Luckily, me being me, I was prepared for such an event to occur.

Did I mention I’m a huge glutton?  Or have you just figured that out by now?

Miss Shirley’s also offers a short stack order of any of their specialty pancakes, and I felt it necessary strictly for restaurant review purposes to try one of their specialty pancake orders.  I ordered the Cinnamon Danish Pancakes- two enormous pancakes coated in cinnamon and sugar, and then coated with a cream cheese icing, served with whipped cream and maple syrup, just in case you weren’t sure that you’d be getting enough sugar here to put you in a diabetic coma for the next two weeks.  I have to say that these fit right up with my opinion of Jen’s french toast…amazing.  The only way to make them better?  Find a way to infuse bacon in there.  Really though, these pancakes were off the chain good.

Service is quick and courteous, and my cup of coffee was rarely left empty.  I can vouch for their pancakes and french toast, but the lilliputian chicken breast portion left something to be desired.  That being said, the pancakes combined with the breakfast dish I ordered sufficiently filled me up, but not everybody is going to order like that.

If you’re in Baltimore and looking for a good breakfast or brunch, look no further.  Miss Shirley’s is a win in my book, and I anxiously look forward to another opportunity to eat up there again.

Miss Shirley’s Cafe has two locations in Balitmore.  See the Inner Harbor location on a map here.

Recommended For:

• Casual Breakfasts
• Vegetarians
• Lazy Saturdays
• Slothlike Sundays
• An alternative to the megachains along the Inner Harbor
• Tiger Woods, looking for an alternative to Perkins

Not Recommended For:

• Carbaphobes
• People with Diabeetus
• Paleoheads
• Zone Dieters
• Velociraptors
• Robocop

I’ll be upfront in saying that I’m extremely wary of the restaurants that sit nestled upon each other along Miami’s South Beach on Ocean Drive. I see them as tourist traps, thieves, charlatans, crooks, and slackers. And those are just the compliments I have for them. I’ve had numerous poor experiences, to the point where I’ll avoid eating along the famed street of rented Aston Martins (they really do rent Aston Martins to park in front of their restaurant and draw in onlookers) and convertible Seabrings (the tourist/businessman who upgraded his Hertz, but didn’t go all out on the uber premium Corvette ZR6).

So on this trip, Jen convinced me that my views of the restaurants on Ocean Drive just needed the right guide.  She happened to be it.  We searched around a bit and settled on the Front Porch Cafe.  We arrived at the empty hostess stand, behind a couple already waiting for table.  Several of the wait staff hovered underneath the giant faded awning, a dull off white plastic that bore the age of numerous days underneath the beating Florida sun.  The bored look on the staff’s faces annoyed me, as they were clearly not in any major effort to do anything beyond taking orders and bringing out the food.  Luckily, a few diners were wrapping up their meals and promptly left, opening up tables both for the couple ahead and us.

Jen and I were seated at a table and given our menus to peruse.

Let me rephrase that.

Jen and I were seated at a table for six, made up of three tables meant to seat two per table.  With the tip included in every bill, what’s the need to put in the extra effort of seating another couple at at the opposite end of the six seater?  Why put in the extra work?

Annoyed with the inefficiency, I was placated by the fact that the Front Porch Cafe serves breakfast and brunch plates well into the afternoon.  Our waiter, likely the brightest and hardest working of the lot, came by quickly and took our orders for tap water, as well as a mojito for Jen.  He quickly returned with our drinks, and we each ordered an omelet,  with me adding the request that I’d like a side of pancakes.

“We don’t do that here,” he said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“We don’t sell sides of pancakes.”

“Oh that’s fine. I wanted the full order of ‘em.”

You’re about to see something REAL special here, I thought to myself.

We enjoyed the view at our table- the cars blasting bass heavy beats driving by; the crest of the dunes of South Beach across the street; and the ever so popular characters that strutted along Ocean Drive.  Ocean Drive is home of some of the weirdest people you’ll ever see.  I even saw a man dressed as a slice of pizza walk by.  True story.

Our food came by quickly, and surprisingly, it looked amazing.

Jen’s Santa Fe Omelet was packed with refried beans, onions, and cheese in a giant fold of eggs, covered with fresh chopped cilantro and line, coupled with a large dish of fresh fruit and toast.

My Chicken Satay Omelet was no slack either.  Stuffed with chopped lettuce, chicken, peanut satay sauce and also served with fruit and toast, I was already unraveling my tight grip of hate hate hate of Ocean Drive’s restaurants.

The real killer here?

Two enormous wholewheat, oatmeal and chocolate chip pancakes, with enough fiber to knit a large winter jacket (I know that’s not what it is, I’m on a roll here, leave me alone) and even more fruit to boot.

Why did I even hold animosity towards these places in the first place?

The omelets were excellent.  Each full of flavor and totally unique.  I really enjoyed my chicken satay omelet, enough to the point where I’ll have to try making it sometime on my own.  Jen also polished off hers, and helped me hack away at the pancakes.  These pancakes are definitely not light fare!  Dense enough to blot out the sun and soak in lots of syrup, these things were delicious.  I’m a little ashamed to say that I couldn’t finish them, even with Jen’s help, but that’s more of an accreditation to the restaurant knowing my voracious appetite.

In retrospect, perhaps it was my lack of understanding of restaurants in South Beach operate that led to such poor experiences. There are a couple of rules you should understand, and hopefully, these will make your dining experience better, should you eat there:

1. Always specify that you want Miami’s finest water on tap when they ask you if you’d like sparkling or flat, so you don’t get an $8 bottle of Evian dropped by your table.
2. Gratuity is always included in the bill.  You should be more surprised if it’s not, and when the tip’s already in the bill, you should expect service that suits that sort of system.
3. Get a table outside.  You’re likely not paying a premium for the food or service, but the fantastic people watching of pedestrians walking by.  You’ll see some of the most amazing things clopping along.  My personal favorite?  A girl in her early 20′s strutting her high heels in tights…painted like denim.  I mean painted on pocket, painted seams, everything.

If you’re looking for a breakfast to take in some food, drinks, and the scenery, this is it.  Our waiter here was pretty attentive, which also made me relent on my negative impression.  Maybe there are spots along Ocean that aren’t so bad, but I’ll take them on a case-by-case basis.

See Front Porch Cafe on a map here.

Recommend For:

• Voyeurs
• Anthropologists
• Vegetarians
• Paleo heads
• Hangovers

Not Recommended For:

• Carb Counters
• Penny Pinchers
• Quick Meals