4159 Cedar Ave S
Sometimes you want truffle oil and garlic infused egg whites and elegant table cloths and waiters who stand at your elbows until they can simultaneously set down your plates and immediately whip out matching tall pepper grinders for your leafy greens. Sometimes you want to be able to say, "Oh, waiter, could I please have a black napkin? I don't want white lint on my fancy pants." Sometimes you want wild mushrooms sauteed just so and then folded carefully inside of exquisitely prepared omelets flavored with local specialty cheeses.
Of course, you mostly feel this way on mornings when the Breakfast Club treasurers are present to take care of your bill. On mornings like this one, when a depleted club meets in the mid morning after a late Friday night, what we want is far more utilitarian. What we want is to take care of the pangs of hunger with a simple plate of good, solid food, served without hoopla in a clean and simple environment. Enter Stabby's, the new restaurant on 42nd and Cedar.
Surprisingly, Perley and Jill agreed to my suggestion to eat there, even though they both thought I called it "Scabby's" on the phone. This is trust, people. Don't underestimate its power.
Anyway, Stabby's is a brand new restaurant, which is apparently attempting to attain fame by serving Flint-style chili dogs at lunch time, but more to the point, they also serve breakfast from a menu littered with puns and exclamation points. I can't really tell you what's on the menu, because, as I often do, especially when I'm hungry, I stopped reading after I saw what I wanted: CBH - corned beef hash.
Now, when you go to a fancy place, they corn the beef themselves, and serve it to you in chunks that are shaped like meat, so you can appreciate their efforts and not confuse it with the stuff in the can. Problem is, I grew up on corned beef hash in a can, and a big part of me believes that everything in corned beef hash should be cut into little cubes and served crispy with eggs on top. This is the kind of corned beef has you get from Stabby, and it was exactly what I wanted. It was perfectly crisped, doled out into the exact size I needed (which isn't huge), and served with two lovely over-easy eggs.
Sarah got banana buttermilk pancakes, and she, too, enjoyed her meal. Apparently there are multiple flavors of cakes at Stabby's. I didn't get that far in the menu. I don't usually eat pancakes at restaurants, but for those who do, Sarah endorses the way the place from Flint does its cakes.
Perley valiantly fought his urge to get the steak and eggs (too predictable), and instead ordered biscuits and gravy, which he was happy to get because he knew the gravy would be flavored with real sausage and not with mushrooms. He's been living the Uptown lifestyle too long.
Jill got the standard breakfast with spicy hashbrowns. Not to go on and on about the potatoes, but the one bite she shared with me crunched loudly enough that I could hear it in my head. The cajun spices in the browns also added to my enjoyment. I predict with confidence that I will be eating Stabby's hashbrowns again someday. The only thing we were served this morning that didn't get entirely consumed at our table was Jill's blueberry biscuit, which she said was too dry.
It was perhaps the lowered expectations of a club without its fancier members, but we left with comfortable bellies and happy tastebuds. It's not a fancy place, but it does know how to cook delicious diner food, and the size of its bill was definitely within our grasp, even after a night of cocktails. We're left with the question, is it easier to get an A if you forget about trying to impress with fancy homemade ketchup and instead just crisp up some hash and serve it with a bottle of the store-bought stuff without all that fuss?