Ricotta pancakes. Nutella mascarpone. Berries. Pancetta. Face.

​Saturday, Cane Rosso served brunch. Not really that big of a deal, right? WRONG, DUMMY! Look with your eyeballs at this menu!! Ricotta pancakes!! Biscuits and gravy! Braised pork hash! Nutella pizza!! This brunch menu offers every single thing you'd ever need to explode your hangover. Plus Fanta.

More >>

Kevin Marple

Prickly pear margarita

​Bloody Marys and mimosas are, clearly, classic brunch drinks. But if you're a frequent bruncher, the usual suspects may be becoming a bit of a snooze. I'm a brunch fan myself, which is why my ears pricked up when I heard the Second Floor is offering a prickly pear margarita along with a French tea with Charbay Meyer Lemon Vodka, Chambord and apricot mint tea as alcohol delivery systems that won't raise eyebrows if ordered before noon.

I caught up with Jason Henry, the general manager the Second Floor who runs the beverage program to find out more about these creations.

More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

Toulouse's Bloody Marys came rimmed with a sweetly sour lime salt.

​
It is getting harder and harder not to eat brunch at a Lombardi family restaurant in this town. First, there was Penne Pomodoro. Then there was Cibus. Now, there is Toulouse, the French cafe and bar that borders the Katy Trail crossing on Knox Street. I contend that their series of pseudo-high priced, pseudo-high end specialty restaurants -- and that's what these are, Italian, French, and what-have-you -- make the Lombardis Dallas' finest proprietors of home-grown casual dining.

No doubt this will ruffle a few Olive Garden-hater feathers out there.

Hear me out. I know these all seem like kinda classy places, and certainly they're priced to keep out the riff-raff, but really, each of these restaurants does little more than offer a slightly different ethnic take on an omelet or flavored French toast. I'm not saying it's bad. I'll eat at a Pappasito's or a Pappadeaux any day of the week. I think casual dining gets a bad rap. But let's quit pretending these places are fancy and give the Lombardi family big-ups for fooling us all into thinking we aren't really just eating at themed chain restaurants when we patronize their establishments.

Viewing Toulouse thusly will help us accomplish two things: first, we can lower our expectations; second, we can understand why people wear sweatpants to this place for brunch. Crappy service becomes OK service, greasy potatoes become "flavorful" potatoes. But $118 sweat pants are still sweat pants, y'all. And at a casual dining-in-denial joint, that's cool.

Here's what else is cool: Toulouse's excellent Bloody Marys and French toast. You didn't think I was going to spend the whole blog post crapping on the place, did you? No way. This place's brunch is legit.
More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

The Cibus Benedict features creamy Parmesan sauce and, supposedly, crab.

​
Sunday morning, as downtown restaurants were brimming with Super Bowl brunchers, the Man O' The Hour and I headed north into the sweet, consumerist bosom of North Park Center. There, we grabbed a booth at Cibus, the Lombardi family eatery with a lovely view of the Louis Vuitton store. But eggs and booze trump stupid purses any day.

With fond remembrances of the last Lombardi family brunch we'd eaten at Penne Pomodoro in Lakewood, the MOTH and I were anxious to see what the higher end of Italian brunch would have to offer. The restaurant was flush with orange accents--well, if giant, orange plastic chandeliers count as accents--and nearly empty when we arrived just after 11 a.m. to find waiters speculating as to whether the Super Bowl would bring out the crowds or keep them home.

Our server's demeanor was kind but somewhat infantilizing. I understand it might be gauche in a pseudo-fancy place to ask if y'all are ready to order, but hearing "Have we decided what we would like to eat this morning?" makes me want to ask for a sippy cup. The fact that we got carded ordering Bloody Marys didn't help things.

More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

Monica's unbeatable $2.50 Bloody Mary.

​Oak Cliff, you are one lucky neighborhood. Not only are you all buzz-worthy and such with regard to the Super Bowl, you recently were on the receiving end of Monica's Aca Y Alla enchiladic expansion, "BEE," and I hear what they lack in restaurant names that aren't patently embarrassing, they make up for with delicious food. Last Sunday, it was nigh about time for me and the Man O' The Hour to finally check out the original Monica's outpost in our own Deep Ellum.

We were seated promptly in the half-dim restaurant, which was a kindness to my still-sleepy eyes, and quickly provided with the first dose of a surefire hangover cure: chips, salsa and water aplenty. But nothing perked me up faster than seeing $2.50 Bloody Marys on the menu. Dos, pronto!

Our attentive, knowledgeable waiter was back tout de suite with two drinks, rimmed with chili powder and garnished with lime. Bigger than State and Allen's $3 Bloodys, these were also spicier and thicker. For the price, I don't believe you can find a better Bloody in town. For the quality, I'm not sure it would be worth the effort, anyway.

On to the diverse brunch menu, which features Tex-Mex, interior Mexican fare, American dishes and sweet stuff. In fact, the first thing to hit our table, along with the chips and salsa, was a plate of cinnamon-sugar cookies. It was apparent from the very beginning that Monica's takes really good care of its guests. With my stomach figuratively in their literally capable hands, I ordered chilaquiles and the MOTH got the Baja plate, featuring tilapia and scrambled eggs.
More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

Bloody Marys are small but mighty at State and Allen Lounge.

​It's disappointing, though not surprising, that Uptown is one of the few reliable neighborhoods for Saturday brunch in Dallas. Uptown is young, Uptown is packed, and Uptown loves drinking on all available weekend nights and most weekdays, too. They brunch accordingly.

With heads ablaze and stomachs afire for something greasy and satisfying, the Man O' The Hour and I set out from Deep Ellum with our figurative eyes on unobtrusive Uptown neighborhood joint, the State and Allen Lounge. Little did we know that standing between us and brunch were several hundred anti-choice protesters marching through downtown, because everyone knows that nothing addresses the problem of unintended pregnancy like people holding signs. Eventually we powered through the Maple-Routh Connection and found ourselves at our destination, seated on State and Allen's toasty patio next to two women and a baby named Sloane.

How do I know the baby's name was Sloane? Well, first, I could have guessed, because Uptown people are the kinds of people who would name their kids after Crate and Barrel place settings. But I didn't have to, because I spent the first half of my meal listening to Sloane's mom and her friend talk, in detail, about the many and varying kinds of drool coming out of Sloane's mouth.

What I am saying is that Bloody Marys were in order, and quickly. State and Allen, and our goateed server, did not disappoint, either in cocktail quality or in price. 
More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes

Buried under all that meat: more meat, including white and black puddings.

​Our table yesterday morning at Trinity "an Irish pub" Hall in Mockingbird Station had the advantage of being as far away as we could get from a long booth full of kids and their tantrum-inured parents, but had the disadvantage of being out of the direct line of sight of our waiter, which meant the service was uncharacteristically awful. But as the Man O' The Hour, who claims to have some kind of Irish heritage in his wayback, noted, "I had plenty of time to contemplate my Irish ancestors' suffering through famine while [the server] kept us waiting in the corner."

Those Irish. They are always looking on the bright side, are they not? And so that's what we'll do with this edition of Brunch Drunk Love. Despite the fact that there were many things a lesser reviewer might quibble with, our brunch -- Full Irish Breakfasts, Bloody Marys and Irish Coffee -- filled us with happy, hangover-curing pleasure.

The Man O' The Hour called ahead to make sure breakfast was still being served by the time our party, which included my Best Lady Susan, whom some of you might remember from that time I ate Austin's Moonshine brunch, managed to peel itself off sticky, buttershops-stained sheets. We were assured that breakfast was served all day.

Well, breakfast is not served all day. The Full Irish Breakfast is served all day, but Trinity Hall's many and varied breakfast items are only served until noon, and we sure as Shinola did not make it there before noon, not after the night we had. I had been excited to have three people at brunch, which meant we could order many different dishes -- perhaps some corned beef tacos or that smoked salmon savory plate -- and sample things. Instead, we got three Full Irish Breakfasts, which is not the worst thing that could happen to three very hungover people.
More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

Meridian Marys -- maybe the best in town?

​Saturday night ended with a glass of "buttershops," the beverage I make when things look really, really dire on the home bar front. It's brandy and butterscotch liquer, and generally by the time I get around to making it, "buttershops" is about all I can verbally muster. But we'd been out celebrating the return of Club Dada to Deep Ellum, and the party couldn't, wouldn't, didn't stop. So, buttershops it was -- a sweet way to end the evening, and Sunday morning came with snowfall.

The buttershops hangover necessitated big, greasy brunch, but the snowfall necessitated not plowing into wet, slippery sidewalks in the car. Exposition Park was just about as far out of Deep Ellum as I was willing to drive, so the Man O' The Hour and I crept over to toasty neighborhood staple The Meridian Room. At 1 p.m. there was no wait for a table, and we had two garden-fresh Bloody Marys in front of us in no time.

The fact that the Meridian Room is a fantastic place to eat and drink should surprise no one. It's been a magnet for hungry, thirsty hipsters for a decade, though the quality of the fare has come to attract even the squarest of Dallasites, especially on half-price food Wednesdays. Though if you ask me -- and by reading this, you are asking me, and now's the time to come to grips with that -- Sunday is the day to beat at the Meridian Room.

The Man O' The Hour and I had fresh, inventive Bloody Marys and plates piled high with rich, flavorful hangover cures. If we hadn't had very important things to do, like playing several hours of Wii Tennis, we could have sat and sipped show-stopping Bloodys all afternoon long. Though significantly different than the present best Bloody Mary in town, available at Oak Cliff barbecue joint Smoke, the Meridian Room Bloody Mary is easily a contender for the crown.
More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

This is as clear as we could get our packed table for a shot of the Buena Vista Cafe's trademark Irish Coffee.

​Generally speaking, I don't recommend visiting restaurants that have attached gift shops if you are over the age of 10. And really, if you're under the age of 10 believe me when I tell you: Absolutely nobody gives a shit about your Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt collection, least of all the cadre of friends and relatives you've baby-bullied with your tiny, nerdchild tears into bringing you back the overpriced sartorial souvenirs. And in a few years, even Goodwill is not going to give a shit about your Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt collection. No one will think less of you if you don't ever get the Madrid shirt, Andrea, nobody! NOBODY! GIVE IT UP NOW AND START COLLECTING VINYL.

Oh, dear.

But specifically speaking -- if it gets any more specific than addressing your 10-year-old self on a Dallas food blog -- I do recommend visiting the Buena Vista Cafe in San Francisco, which has a gift shop but! but! also what is probably the country's, if not the world's, finest Irish Coffee and a crab eggs Benedict that will make your brain fall out of your head if you try to understand how great it is.

I spent the New Year's weekend in Northern California with the Man O' The Hour, who took me on a whirlwind 72-hour tour of his homeland. We visited some mighty fine dive bars and ate In-N-Out Burger (tasty, but I'm not sure I understand the hype). We scarfed down Indian pizza, something I hope catches on with more fervor than Korean tacos. And we ate brunch at the historic Buena Vista, which is in the touristy area over by Geerardelli Square. I am not going to look up how to spell that because we have brunchy booze and eggs to discuss, both of which are mightily superior to chocolate.

More >>

Photos by Andrea Grimes and Man O' The Hour

A bitty, bland Bloody.

​Because nothing is as important as family time during the holidays, the Man O' The Hour and I left my parents' house on Christmas afternoon to drive up to the brand-spanking-new-ish Choctaw Casino Resort in pancake-flat Durant, Oklahoma. Like many folks with family ties in Northeast Texas, I am part (small part, very small part, tiny part) Choctaw Indian and thus wanted to get back to my roots. And since most of my roots probably once sought to oppress and eradicate the Choctaw part of my roots, the least I can do is gamble at the tribal casino donate to them a small portion of my income.

Oh, hell. I think small-stakes gambling is fun and tacky and Choctaw is nicer than Winstar, so that's where we go sometimes for a weekend off. Also, the hotel soap is shaped like buffalo. It's just an hour or so up the road, and the new Choctaw casino, built in February, is at least as nice as a middling downtown Las Vegas joint. That includes its buffet, Butterfield's. We ate brunch there yesterday morning at 11:50 a.m., which I remember because the 10 minutes we had to wait to order Bloody Marys at the bar was a particularly long 10 minutes. For all its charm and convenience, Choctaw does suffer from having to obey Oklahoma's very non-Vegas-style liquor laws.

What you want to do first is get yourself a Choctaw Player's Club card, which is free, and comes with two of the best things in the world: Mardi Gras beads and discounts. Our endless brunch buffet cost us just $7.99 each, down from $14.99 for the uninitiated. We were seated by Juan, who promptly brought us sweet tea and coffee, and got our first courses while waiting for the clock to turn to legal liquor sales o'clock. At Butterfield's, the cuisine offerings include Italian, Asian, Southern and Mexican along with a salad and dessert bar.

I started with a salad and a load of peel'n'eat shrimp, because I was on vacation, dammit.
More >>