Sitting by myself (like usual) I found it difficult to order, most of the staff ignoring me, I suppose expecting that I was waiting for someone. Trying to try something local, I ordered the ‘Spinach Benedict Sliders’: grit cakes, with spinach, poached eggs and hollandaise sauce. Despite taking a while to order, my meal arrived quickly.
At another meal, my friend had described grits as “tasteless” so I was reluctant to try them. These may have been a better introduction as they were flavoured with cheddar cheese. They were very soft and almost creamy. The eggs were perfectly poached. The hollandaise had a smooth texture but the flavour was too subtle for my liking. It lacked the usual tangy.
With each part of the dish being super soft, I felt like I was eating baby food. The only crunch was provided by a pile of salad leaves in the centre. On a wobbly table was a wobbling plate, with wobbling grits, supporting wobbling eggs. It could have been moving art, anything can be in New York.
The low-carb meal was not filling enough for me after a two hour run along the water that morning. I should have ordered a side of home fries too.
I had selected a table outside. With the traffic of the main road, it was not such an interesting spot for people watching, but no doubt would have been lovelier if the sun had been out. Inside on the other hand was formal with a white, cold formality.
While I sat, a lady from the other table asked me if I was a writer. She had observed me taking notes and journal-updating extensively. No. She suggested I move to New York and become one. Maybe I will.
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