Firstly, the burgers are huge. Bloody huge. Like ‘we’re gonna need a bigger boat’ huge.
The slice of tomato? Huge.
The grilled onions? Guess what, HUGE.
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San Diego
It’s a hard knock yolk
In the past, I’ve always been ‘You CANNOT get a bad Eggs Benedict in the states esse’ (Yup, just like that). Well, you can scratch that now, I found a place.
Having found some good reviews of Café 222, we wandered for way longer than our hangovers desired to check it out. We were both in a Benedict mood so I had the pork patty version, whilst my compadre had the standard.
It was a less than overwhelming sight when it arrived. The hollandaise looked like it had separated a bit on both our plates, leaving speckles of melted butter floating around. It tasted like it looked, heavy and buttery. And when I cut into the eggs, the yolks were hard. I was like, this must be a mistake, but my friend cut into his and.. the same. Who cooks the yolks to solid in a fucking Benny?! The griddled potatoes were ok, but not enough of a saving grace for that travesty.
This place had won some gold medallion food award SIX years in a row? Fuck that shit.
Luckily, we also ordered a much-lauded-on-the-interwebs waffle. Our choice was the stuffed granola, and it was great. The chunks of granola intermingled with the waffle batter was a novel touch, and tasty as with heaps of maple syrup poured over. Now *there* was the saving grace we’d been looking for. If I’d’ve just had the Benny, I’d’ve been pissed.
- Rob.
