r.i.p., honey cinnamon toast

last summer, it seemed like we had someone sleeping on our couch every week (and often, another friend sleeping on the living room floor). and for weekend brunches, there was no where better than phoebe’s.

sure, the food took forever to arrive, and the service was more snarls than smiles (typical hipsters…too cool for school), but it was our “spot.”

the food was cheap and veg-friendly, the coffee fair-trade, and the backyard the perfect mix of quirky and sunny. while the huevos rancheros were a sorry sight (leave it to new york to muck up perfectly good mexican food), the steamed eggs were my (breakfast) salvation: fluffy scrambled eggs were mixed with peppers and cheese and deliciously accompanied by sweet potatoes, salad and toast…always more than i could finish (but i made valiant attempts).

the waffles were a sight to behold (and just as tasty as they looked), the oatmeal surpassed bland comfort food status and became a work of culinary art (the sunflower seeds were a nice touch, and the steamed milk was a step above for plain-jane oatmeal), and the grilled cheeses were inspired (the monterey jack and olive tapenade on ciabatta was my favorite).

it was all good, but the crowning achievement, the one that made us keep eating when our seams threatened to burst, was the cinnamon honey toast. super-thick slices, gooey and sweet, it was a meal on its own – not bad for $3.75.

unfortunately, the latest reports say phoebe’s gone downhill: the cinnamon honey toast has been tragically reduced, from its super-thick slices of glory to average slices of toast. and they’ve upped the price. my heart mourns the passing of an peerless favorite: nothing will ever come close to the old cinnamon toast perfection (though i don’t mind tasting lots of things just to make sure). with quality down and prices up, we may have to find a new brunch spot. oh sure, there’s always the oak cafe, delicious and classy (i never knew how much i loved polenta until i tried oak’s – soft and creamy and topped with a perfectly fried egg)…but curing a hangover with a mimosa in oak’s lovely garden just wouldn’t feel right.

summer is nearing. the hunt is on…

---