Sunday, September 16, 2012
New Guests: 1
Scotch Eggs: 3
Coffee Bombs: 3
This was a Sunday that started with a bit of confusion: we had no idea where to go. A bunch of repeat locations were suggested—Blackfoot Truck Stop, Local 510—but to no general consensus. It wasn’t until special guest Steff drove by National with AS and MR that we decided to try something new. It was a nice and sunny fall day, so the opportunity to patio brunch was one that couldn’t be passed up. And once we looked at the menu, hot damn we knew we had a winner.
Once JN and AMH showed up, we loaded up on brunch appetizers, because we are gluttons. We had it all: scotch eggs (omigodddddddddd), tater tots, deep fried pickles, regular pickles. And AS chowed down on a couple caesars to boot, and I do mean chow down, as the garnish included cheese, a pickle and a shrimp. She was probably right in pointing out “I don’t need breakfast.”
Being completely unoriginal, we all ordered the chilaquiles. It’s only ten bucks and a mountain of food! And for only three more you can get chorizo, so we obviously did (except AMH, proving himself to be a breakfast amateur). Suggestions were made to just have a trough of chilaquiles for the table. Kinda happy this didn’t happen.
The advantage of patio brunch on 17th is that you’re bound to see some pals, so we happily welcomed new to Breakfast Club pal Jim Dodge. Jim got the breakfast sandwich, prompting AS to decide “I made a huge mistake” once she saw it. But then she was just as pleased once the chilaquiles arrived. With one complaint: more tortilla chips, please. You need the crunch.
“[Something something] Joe’s Garage,” –Steff
“Steff’s dating himself,” –AS
“Well he’s the only one who would,” –JN
“Eat the shit outta that fucking thing,” –Steff
“I just couldn’t fit it in,” –AMH
“I went and saw a bunch of swans last month,” –Jim Dodge
• Those assholes kept saying poots again.
• JN refused to Lady and the Tramp a piece of celery with MR.
• A wasp dying in honey is the equivalent to JN dying in chorizo chilaquiles: dying happy.
• Inception taco flirt.
• JN flirts with the babe waitress (and they are ALL babes) by telling her he is twice her size. Smooooooth.
• So many cat image searches.
• Hunk City. (I don’t know what this means, but it is obviously very important.)
It’s excellent value for what you get, with one exception: the coffee bomb. You get so fucked on coffee, since each bomb (press) is $5. So if you get two, you are paying as much for coffee as food. Thumbs down on that front. And as much as we enjoyed the patio, National is unfortunately one of those places with communal tables inside. So even though the food was good, and cheap, it might be a while before we are back.
The fucking coffee bomb.