Ah, the joys and pleasures of Sunday brunch. What is it about Sunday that just begs for a long, lazy brunch with friends? Its the only meal that doesn't have to play by the rules. Where the lines between breakfast and lunch are blurred. Where eggs and burgers can co-exist on the same menu. Balboa Cafe in San Francisco's Cow Hollow district is a popular choice. The restaurant was established in 1913, and the decor remains relatively untouched. A classic wooden bar lines one side of the restaurant, and is the perfect spot to start with a pre-meal drink.
Brunch = Mimosas
I'm not a fan of tomato juice, but this Bloody Mary had me reconsidering.
Remember when crayons on restaurant tables were the latest craze? The first time I saw them was on a family trip to Washington D.C., circa 1987. I thought they were the coolest thing. You can be out for dinner and draw on the table! Play tic-tac-toe while you wait for your food. I remember my parents getting into the fun too, my father drawing silly faces with bushy eyebrows, and my mother showing off her cursive writing skills.
It was Superbowl Sunday, so this was my featured art. Having grown up in Canada where football doesn't even stand a chance next to hockey, I have adopted my boyfriend's team. Go Packers!
We ordered the fried calamari because we saw it delivered to the next table. Food envy is a very powerful thing. I have no qualms about checking out any food that travels within my sight. In fact, I am not above walking through the restaurant to spy on other tables and see what potential gastronomic delights lie in my future. So while we were tempted to simply help ourselves to a taste from our neighbor, we decided to order our own plate.
This is my favorite dish at Balboa, Heuvos Rancheros. Flour tortillas, topped with black beans, melted cheese, eggs, pico de gallo, and avocado.
My friend's brunch choice. Much like the Bloody Mary, this had me tempted to eat a burger (which I never do). But I sure stole some of her fries!
Hope your Sunday was a good one too!
No comments:
Post a Comment