The best thing you can do after you leave a Spin class at the Firm early because your legs stopped working is to remove your sweat-ridden bra, slick back your sweaty mane and limp over to Loring Park. The best thing about brunching is no one cares what the hell you look like in the morning. Follow me down the cobbled alley to the back door entrance of Third Bird, where the riff raff embark. Don't worry, the rape rating on this alley is a safe 1/5 stars.
This is not the first bird, or the second, but the third. The third bird wears short pants and a monocle, has some obtrusive chin pubes and apparently lies like a mf'r. I tried using protrusive in that sentence. Protrusive is not a word. Why isn't protrusive a word? Let's make this happen.
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| I'm a sucker for high ceilings. |
The menu. More birds with person heads. Creepy, but it kinda makes me feel scholarly, well read, like I hang out in places where people talk about important things...without a bra. This place reminds me of my Art History Prof who made up words all the time. Like effectivality. Or protrusive. Or Byzantine. Unlike that dude, this menu is legit. Many staples exist, like the classic, french toast, a scramble, an omelette, but all have special ingredients like kimchi, kale and pork belly. Then there's straight up pumpkin pie. Who doesn't want pumpkin pie for breakfast? **NOTE: the menu has evolved since this review and no longer features pumpkin pie. If you love something, let it go.
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| Check out the hook while the menu revolves based on seasonality. |
Here's your basic breakfast bevvies. The bloody. It's really decent. I know what you're thinking. You want a bigger pickle. So do I, friend, so do I.
The big letters on the menu spell AVOCADO. And this is what that looks like... Avocado smeared on toast, really great toast, two eggs and a salad with some dressing, really great dressing. A perfect post-workout dish.
Meet the classic with an adorable house-made biscuit and some crisp-ass bacon and some crispy-on-the-outside, mashy-on-the-inside hashbrowns. What a joy.
The benny this day said it was made with squash, but it just came with squash spears on the side. Not stoked on the lack of creative integration, but the flavor was on point.
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| Hello, meat. |
You could take your mom here, but beware of the classy broads like me rolling in through the back in sweaty workout clothes. Sockless, braless, shameless.
This has been another edition of the Bad Eggs Brunch Review. Goodnight and have a kick-ass brunch tomorrow (at Third Bird) (if it's Saturday or Sunday).
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| The sunny front side. |
