This is what I ended up eating for brunch on Sunday, minus my homegirl's torn off sugar packet that flew onto my plate:
The menu read Creamy Polenta and Eggs, and I had meant to ask how the eggs were cooked, because I assumed they would be sunny side up or poached, but I got caught up in the hectic One-Waiter-Serving-The Entire-Crowd-Outside-Sunday-Brunch experience. I thought about it immediately after I had ordered it, decided to bite the bullet, and suck it up.
It did not turn out that well for me. I could not stomach eating most of that other egg, and I'm pretty sure I almost gagged with the first forkful. I guess multiple bellini carafes, water and coffee eased the pain. Separate egg whites (oh the texture), separate and wet egg yolks, and Jennifer just simply do NOT go together.
This is where you call me boring, unsophisticated and a fake foodie. This is where I order my eggs scrambled until the day I die and love every scrambled minute.
