The menu was deceptively simple. There were not as many adjectives and compound-words as I had thought there might be. This was not molecular gastronomy, it was really good breakfast. The quality was apparent right away from the excellent coffee they serve to you in your own personal French Press. As the caffeine takes hold and you wait for your food to arrive you can draw on the table with crayons. Chris waited patiently to enjoi his food. "Damn, Homie."

I went for the eggs Rothko, which was basically Toad-in-the-Hole, an egg and cheese cooked into the hollow middle of a slice of bread. We nerdily conjectured that this version must have gotten it's name not from being a favorite dish of the abstract painter, but for actually kind of looking like one of his works:

Actually, we are not nerds for figuring this out, they are nerds for thinking of it. The best kind of nerds!
There were confit tomatoes and everything, even the breakfast

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