Is Uptown cool anymore? Some of you might be scoffing at the fact that I even asked that question. Okay, so my over-30, inner-city-dwelling self just can't identify with the Uptown scene these days. I mean, the Calhoun Square sector, specifically. The fact of the matter is, Figlio's gone, the Uptown bar is gone, Sushi Tango switched sides and nothing makes sense anymore. The heart of Uptown has been over-ridden with suburban tourists and kids who think Jagermeister is a fine liquor.
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| D-Bag T-shirt in Cooper Black |
Now let's talk about what we came here to talk about. Poised in the middle of what I lovingly refer to as D-Bag central, sits Cafeteria. A sort of plasticy/mod diner, kinda Jetsons futuristic, but all in all a very confusing theme. Can I say I was somewhat disappointed that this place is actually nothing like a cafeteria. You don't order from a line, you don't eat off of plastic plates, and the lunch lady doesn't give you the evil eye stare-down from behind the counter. And what the crap does "support group" mean? I really don't want to feel like I'm going to an AA meeting the morning after, when I should probably be going to an AA meeting.
The plates on the wall are pretty cool. But they do give me bad flashbacks to the High School cafeteria...and the many ways you can re-use and re-combine hot dogs, ground beef and tater tots to make "new" meals.
So the menu isn't bad. Pretty standard breakfast and lunch items. I don't see "Italian Dunkers" or "Mr. Rib on bun".
Mrs. Butterworth's says, "Stop staring at the manly cheerleader on the menu. She's taken."
Probably the best thing about this place is the bloody bar...
Hello darkness, my old friend.
Brunchetizer™ banana bread. Second best thing about this place. Good thing we ordered it, too, because our food took an hour to arrive. We passed the time enduring a variety of light-rock classics. Hotel California before noon on a Sunday? Click, click, boom.
She barely got that bread down...buck up, Nicole! "Today's Tom Sawyer, he gets high on you..."
The food, when it finally arrived, thank jesus, did not taste like government-subsidized garbage. It was, however, less than warm, but we needed carbs to revive our spirit, so we dug in.
This was called the hangover cure or something like that. If Trevor had as many "creative" after-midnight-Jennifer's birthday shots as I did, he needed this...
Jen, freak of nature that she is, gets up at 6 the morning after her birthday. So she went for the tuna melt on "homemade" cheddar biscuits. The tuna had a crap ton of mayo in it, which turned me off.
This is the Norwegian benedict with salmon and spinach. Pretty, but cold, like Megan Fox.
And the mexi breakfast, chilaquiles. I'd had this here another time and it was way better and way warmer. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone I've been here more than once...
I know I'm old and crabby, but I don't like cold breakfast or slow breakfast or breakfast in a place that confuses me. But we put on our best duck face and made the best of it. Maybe partying will help?
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