Sunny’s eyes just about came out of her head when the waitress at Kick Back Jack’s set these monster blueberry pancakes down in front of her.
My dear wife had her revenge, though: she made it through about 80% of this massive stack, then jumped back into the car and drove another four hours.
Never underestimate the ability of a thin person to make food just seem to disappear.
So we saved our calories and fats for a day and then went to Eggslut in Las Vegas for breakfast the day before Xmas. The sandwiches were delightful, each handmade to order with care. Even with my shrunken stomach, one sandwich was not enough, so I ordered two, a Fairfax and an Egg Salad.
The Fairfax is the apotheosis of the egg sandwich, with the soft scrambled eggs smooth but not runny, the chives giving a savory boost, all of which in an ordinary sandwich would have made the slice of cheddar redundant. On the Fairfax, though, the cheese deepens the savor, and the siracha mayo comes in to finish each bite with a gentle kick. There is a LOT going on in this meatless wonder, and you will have to keep careful control of yourself to avoid gobbling the entire thing down in less than a minute.
The egg salad would not have been a normal morning choice for me, but I’m glad I tried it. Eggslut alters your idea of plain-old-egg-salad forever, mixing the chopped hard-boiled eggs in a honey-mustard aioli and chives, then laying it all on a bed of arugula before setting it lovingly on a warm brioche bun.
You can get an egg on a bun a lot of places, and you could make it at home for pennies. But the care and exquisite mix of flavors that go into Eggslut’s creations is a satisfying reminder that greatness in the kitchen comes not from the creation of elaborate delicacies, but from the art that turns a prosaic dish into culinary poetry.
Yes, it was a cheat meal, but it was so, so worth it.
Showed up on a busy Sunday afternoon and they sat me right down. They were so fast with an immense iced tea, so accommodating with my obsessive-compulsive substitutions, and so tolerant of my flagrant head cold that after lunch I ordered dinner to go.
The Broken Yolk Cafe is now my official North County (San Diego) bruncherie.
Today the Electronic Nomad is working form a perch above the Ashland Meat Company @ Cross Brothers Grocery. I have a brilliant view of the tracks along Railroad Avenue. My eyes and ears enjoy the sounds of each passing Amtrak and CSX train, and my stomach growls as I think about the sandwiches they are fixing downstairs, and the Baltimore & Ohio Roast Chicken they’re cooking across the street at the Iron Horse Restaurant.
The next time you’re tooling down I-95 between DC and Richmond, get off at Exit 92, head west to Railroad Avenue, turn left and park. Have a meal. Spend a few hours here. Spend a day. I guarantee you will be glad you did.
Early Sunday morning in November on Santa Fe Avenue in La Junta, Colorado. I have only stepped off the train for a moment, and had to capture this.
I love train travel like no other means of transportation. As I get older, though, I find myself wanting to stop and spend more time in the places I pass through.
In the introduction to Desert Solitaire, Edward Abbey opines that in some places time passes slowly, and that all time should. I suppose that is why I find myself of late drawn to places where the hours meander languorously rather than sprint furtively.
I will be back to the high plains of Eastern Colorado, I know, but at some point I’d like to come in my truck and stay awhile. I’ll bet the biscuits are warm and flaky at the Copper Kitchen, that the espresso and banana bread a delight at The Barista, and that there are delightful folks here as well.
Heading out camping with school, he enjoys a last home-cooked meal: eggs and turkey bacon with vegan cheese on a bagel. He’s dancing with contentment.
Now that I’ve hit goal weight, the nutrition program diversifies a bit and good carbs come op, but protein is still my focus macro. 32g for 358 kcal in this delightful thrice-weekly fast-breaker.
Eating local. There was healthy food to be had, superb coffee, and it was very chill.
First Breakfast on board, and first at breakfast. I’d be joined by three wonderful fellow passengers, total strangers, and have a delightful meal.
This is what low blood-sugar looks like. Plus history.
Waiting to order our breakfast at the Outpost Cafe on US 395 and Route 66 in Hesperia, California.