Liquor Lyles **2/5 stars

I don't know. This is the worst rating I've ever given and it just doesn't seem right, because Lyle's is so dear to my heart. But they effed up my bacon and I'm pissed.

So why do we love Lyle's? Is it the fantastic sparkly red booths? The colorful clientelle? The smell of stale beer and bleach in the morning? 

NO! IT'S THE MUTHA EFFIN TWO FOR ONES! Dos por uno! All day long, son. Well, almost. I think they take a break between 6 and 9pm due to MPLS city law. Offering 2'fers all day would just ruin society. These bloodies are Worcestershire-laden legends. They tell the story of brunches past when we would roll in at noon and roll out at 4pm with squinty eyes and fuzzy brains. Yes, Lyle's can be a trap. And by trap, I mean a magical place where time stands still and the drinks keep on comin.

Even though I don't really want to, let's talk about the breakfast food. This is about as basic as it gets. Pick a meat to go with your eggs and call it a day. The potatoes obrien are good enough that they almost make up for the fact that they're not hashbrowns. AND your breakfast entree comes with, you guessed it, a breakfast beverage of your choice. 

You can't tell from the photo, but that bacon was WAY over done. Criminal.

Nicki got the quesadilla. Exciting, I know...

Let's have another round!

 

3 drinks + some crusty bacon = $12.58. Not bad.

One of these cold winter days, hole up at Lyle's and forget life for a while. That's an order.

Longfellow Grill ***3/5 stars

Oh, good morning! Yeah, it's morning somewhere, you jerk. Welcome to Longfellow Grill, a place where weekdays are tolerable, because happy hour starts at 8am.

Still, there's something odd about this place that I can't put my finger on. It might be the overtly family-friendly atmosphere. Kinda feels like a classier version of Perkins. Don't get me wrong. I'm completely okay with that. Perkins 2 Eggs Combo breakfast platter has a special place in my heart. A special drunken college kid at 3am kind of place. Followed closely by Bitchen Kitchen's Denver Omelette.

This might be my first Bad Eggs brunch that happened on a Friday morning. And what a glorious morning it was. I was escorted by Nicki squared, which was cool cuz "other" Nicky hustles plates there on a semi-regular basis.

Cheers-ing to happy hour.

AWESOME bloody

The menu is pretty substantial...hashes, omelettes, frittatas, benny's, mexican stuff and sweet stuff. No Chicken Fried Steak, but whaddarya gonna do? I'd love to tell you we tried everything, but since the wonder twins ordered the same thing, you get to hear about two dishes. The Famer's breakfast...which is basic: hashbrowns, scrambies, Tilamook and caramelized onions.

And the meatloaf hash. Meat and loaf are two words I typically don't like to put together, but when married with two over easy and smothered with hollandaise, magic happens.

Surprise! Pumpkin waffles Brunchitizer™! Oh, look, there's some bacon, too!

The conversation turned to plans for the evening. Rumor was that Prince was hosting a PJ party at Paisely. We ordered another screw driver and looked up his new video online. Terrible. But it's Prince, so we forgive him. Later we would discover the trials and tribulations of a 5am Prince concert. Breakfast can wait, and so can all y'all bitches! I'm getting too old for that sh*t, but it was pretty awesome.

Prince is looking more like a teenage girl every day.

 I'll take you out with a couple more...

The spaceous patio.

The award wall.

Dickhead.

Republic ***3.5/5 stars

Oh, the memories. I vaguely recall many a night in my 20s, hanging with a crew at what was formerly the Independent, drinking Shark Tanks (a bowl of cheap vodka floated with grenadine "blood" and a rubber shark toy...steal THAT, Johnny Michaels) and blacking out. So now Republic has slid in to replace the slimy co-ed bathrooms of the independent with some more classy pee-less seats.

Gluten-worshiping beer nerds rejoice. Republic has an extensive craft beer list. I tried to order a "light" beer once and was met with eyes of horror. (It's okay, I'm used to it. In fact, I often like to go to places that boast elite draught selections and order a Coors Light in a can. Often, I am awarded that option, to the dismay of many, but not here.)

Menu's got good stuff. Love me a classic brunch menu with all the staples: fritattas, omelettes, rancheros, biscuits and gravy, steak and eggs... Ya notice the $5 bloody bar banner? Yup. It's a good one.

The house mix is probably one of the best I've had in town. Tomato, horseradish and spices, with a kick (not too hard). The condiments are well cared for, unlike other bloody bars I've seen, where it looks like the garnish tray has been attacked by ravenous beasts, tearing their way through the piles of meat and cheese and olives, like it's their last hope for survival (okay, I've been there). Never fear. If you're too lazy to make your own, the bartender will graciously make one for you, but then you don't get the loaded life-giving skewer. You could basically survive armageddon with this bloody bar. I exaggerate, as everybody knows Ike's bloodies are the real "meal in a glass".

The mimosas are $5, too, and gigantic. Nicki made this nice cheese barbell.

On to the food. I got the walleye benny, cuz I'm a sucker for fish bennies. It's a new favorite for sure. Eggs: runny. Cakes: salty and tender. Spinach: perfectly wilted. Browns: crispy.

Nick veered off course from her usual "eggs your way" and got the juevos. Beautiful presentation and excellent flavor. Bravo. That fringe purse is getting famous...

 Clean plate club!

The dining area is huge here. Bring all your friends. Bring your extended family. Bring your kickball team. Hell, this place could probably accommodate the zombie pub crawl. Bet they'd wreck that bloody bar...jerks.

Well, brunch is over. Time to go buy a hookah.

Victor's 1959 Cafe ***3/5 stars

I had to ask for help on this one. My to-brunch list was running low and my parents were coming into town. I reached out on the Facebooks and found out that people get pretty passionate about their brunch. I mean, of course, so do I. I got some suggestions for places in St. Paul with cheap and veritably endless boozy drinks. Not really my parent's bag. My professional drinking team and I will get to those soon. When someone did mention a better, more rents-friendly alternative, Victor's Cuban Cafe, I perked up. Others jumped right in to argue that it's always too crowded and not that impressive, but I believe otherwise. Let me tell ya why...

So, this place is like, totes adorbs. A small, ramshackle building nestled in the quickly gentrifying Kingfield neighborhood, it's usually overflowing with peeps jonesing for a side of black beans with their eggs.

It was kinda chilly, so we opted for the patio and were seated within 10 minutes. The menu is pretty extensive, even includes some "americano" breakfast options in case you are afraid of ethnic foods.

 

First things first. Coffee and mimosas as big as your head. Mom says: one and done.

This whole place is tagged up, yo.

 

Like mother, like daughter, we both ordered the Dia Y Noche. Simple, but oh so lovely. Eggs OE, rice, beans, plantains. Tough to get fresh plantains here, but these are totally decent. I could seriously eat this for every meal.

 

Dad got the Ranchero Cubano, which is basically Juevos Rancheros. 

He's stoked. Can you tell? Maybe the coffee hasn't kicked in yet...

Here's the cuban toast, which I wouldn't recommend. You pay extra and it's basically a white bun cut in half and fried. You're not fooling me, ese.

The inside is tagged up as well... adorned with xmas lights and various ephemera. Cozy.

There's a reason why this place is always busy... Weekday brunch is definitely easier to get a table, otherwise pack your lawn chair and your sharpie and practice your 3D lettering and Castro caricatures while you camp out in the lot. Yeah, Pat.

Triple Rock ***3/5 stars

Behold, the T-Rock, the face-tat-and-bike-friendly estab at cedar/riveside (yeah, y'all know, I know). This breakfast is the stuff of legends, kinda. Maybe it's because most of the brunch-goers are still drunk or hungover from drinking beer under bridges all night, and are so grateful for anything that resembles food that they slur endless praises. Or, it's actually pretty decent (yeah, it really is).

First, can I say the lighting in here is amazing at 11am?

 

Okay, so the second thing I love here is the descriptions on the menu. Let me give you a selection of prose:

Northern Buscuits and Gravy
"Sticks to your ribs" Where the hell did that phrase come from? Why would you want something to do that? Sounds terrible. Kinda painful. Southern folk are running around saying it all the time in weird-ass accents. They must know what it means. Why would they insinuate it about their food if they didn't know what it meant? Seems like a bad marketing ploy to me. They're not giving it up though. Nope. Not a hush. Southern lips are sealed. They have the info. Damn... Though, they have kudzu too. Payback's a bitch. Egg and home fries, your choice of sausage or veggie sausage. (Not in any way vegan.) Deep south, my ass. How 'bout high north?

Actually, the menu is very vegan/veggie friendly...

I guess their bloodies are awarding winning, but we didn't have one today. We need vitamin C to stave off the killer cold/allergy season that is upon us. In fact, Nicole had lost her voice completely. Most likely from our shenanigans in LA the weekend before. I told the guys next to us that she was a popular jazz singer and had blown it out on tour.

So we ordered the Mother Trucker plus bacon - home fries, veggies, cheddar, topped with two eggs. Mine: over easy. Nicole's: scrambled.

 

And because we are hardcore athletes and can eat 3,000 calories a day, we had to have some pancakes, too. They're pretty decent here.

We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Hung out, drank a couple screw drivers, ate three pounds of food, played Joy Division on the juke box and took a bunch of drunk selfies on our smart phones. My message from Nicki an hour later sums it up.

Battle of bacon, indeed. 

So, Basically, the T-Rock rocks. Get there. But take your bike, cuz people who drive cars are assholes.