Striaght up: Nighthawks is overrated. This is the story of how I came to loathe one of the most popular spots in my hood run by one of the most popular chefs in town. And then how I changed my mind. Kind of.
So, it's not the layout or decor that bums me out. It's a sunny diner with a wrap-around bar, big comfy booths and a diner-style bar facing the cooks. Be warned, this is not a place for parties of 6 or more. Pick your company wisely.
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| My view from my chair. Not the most glorious... |
Sorry friends, you won't be getting a bloody mary here. The Michelada (aka bloody beer) is a sad watered-down replacement. The first time I ate here, I was on week three of sober October. Maybe I was feeling a little tense. Maybe a little rage-y. And the OJ was NOT cuttin' it. It's that thick, syrupy from-concentrate bullshit.
So my first run at breakfast was the classic: eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, toast, gas station OJ. Nicki says you can always judge a place by its classic. Simple, but amazingly easy to screw up. So it wasn't that they necessarily screwed this up, but it's just not what I expected from a modern diner. Old diners, or "greasy spoons" were just that. Food service truck staples drowned in grease on a flat top and flung at you by some old woman named Laverne who hasn't smiled in 30 years. Save for Laverne this is the greasiest breakfast that has ever been laid before me.
You wouldn't expect peanut butter chocolate chip pancakes to be light breakfast... But these were smothered in half a jar of peanut butter with whipped cream AND syrup. Goodbye skinny jeans. Hello insulin shock. I had previously tried the blueberry lemon cakes and I will say they are some of the better pancakes in town. But these suckers are too much.
So now I'm gonna turn to the redemption chapter of this tale. Surprise! It's a salad! Which almost makes up for the previous greasy, sugary mountain of shame. This salad has a lot of weird stuff, pickled radishes, peanuts, avocados... But survey says it's delicious.
The poutine. While this registers low on the health chart, wow is it good. That poblano gravy. Yow! Pulled pork is buried in there along with melted cheese curds. Good morning, heartburn.
I couldn't leave you without slapping you with this foot-long huevos rancheros dog. Guac, corn chips, fried egg, black beans. I'd rather have either a plain hot dog or huevos rancheros. This is just stupid.
Should I expect fresh OJ and lighter fare from a diner concept? Maybe not, but this is 2015 and we know a lot more about what good food should be. Call me a carb buzz kill, but I prefer more consciousness and less gluttony. Goodnight.
