I wanted some damn breakfast! Luckily it was Saturday morning and, as per our usual modus operandi, Wife and I were on our way out. I’ve not had a Waffle in some time, so we pull out our phone and hit the Yelps. There was a place a bit out of the way but seemed worth it! We were on our way to Baby Barnaby’s.

It’s A House!

We pulled up outside a tiny… Well… it was a house. Like you looked at the building, and you could tell, at some point in the past, somebody lived there. It was kinda cute. We walked into the jam-packed, massive outdoor, awning-covered seating area and were instructed to put our name on the list along with our seating preference. It’s pretty hot, so we chose to wait for a seat inside. That was smart! Some outdoor fans were trying to move the air around, but they didn’t do much. We grabbed a couple of menus and made our decision early, wanting to cut out any time we could by being ready when we sat.

After standing around for a good long while, we hear our names called and walk into the air conditioning. Glorious. The dining area was just as packed as the outside was. So much so that we had to practically shout to hear each other. The waiter was quick to welcome us and take our order, which we had ready. I ordered the Green Eggs and Ham, scrambled eggs with spinach, artichoke, and Monterey Jack served with a side of Apple Smoked Sausage and grits. Wife ordered the Migas, eggs scrambled with fried tortilla strips, served with potatoes. Also, to sate my craving, I got a waffle on the side. We both ordered coffee, and I got some orange juice, which was fresh squeezed and real damn tasty!

With the waiter on his way, we pulled out the trusty deck of dominoes and started a hand. We weren’t able to get a single hand finished before our food had arrived. Super-fast! Unfortunately, that was one of the crowning parts of the meal.

Cat In The Hat?

The Green Eggs and Ham used super fresh ingredients. Unfortunately, that left a lot of water in the mix. It gave the eggs an almost French-style texture, the French loving soft, creamy eggs; almost undercooked by American standards. The cheese was also added in a heavy-handed manner which left the consistency more tacky than creamy. The sausage had a wonderfully subtle flavor but was cut during the cooking process, likely to test for doneness, which left a painful looking gash in the link. Also, the grits were pretty well out-of-the-box. Nothing special or even remarkable.

Wife’s Migas offered the same consistency which damaged the texture of the tortilla strips. Even so, the flavor was quite enjoyable. The potatoes were pretty much just French fries. They were deep fried, naked, then seasoned afterward. By French fry standards, they were decent. By breakfast potatoes, they left something to desire.

Don’t Wiffle, Waffle

The Waffle. I love me a good waffle. And when I cook them, I do it right!; naked elements, leavened with beaten egg whites. That’s how it’s supposed to be done, and that often makes others fall flat. Baby Barnaby’s is no different. You could tell they wanted the American-style fluffy bread thing we like around here, but that’s not a waffle. That’s a pancake with abs. Even so, it wasn’t crisp on the outside and, in chasing that fluffy texture, they mistakenly bruised the flavor with too much baking soda. Sadness and woe. At least the butter was freshly whipped!

We finished up, gathered our dominoes and bruised spirits, and headed back into the real world a little more satisfied than we were when we arrived, but not by much. I was expecting a bit more. On a scale of Tip-the-hat (low) to Shank-the-Chef (high), I have to offer a handshake and a well wish. Sorry guys. Maybe my waffle prowess, which is a thing to behold, was just bad luck for you. Who knows. Either way, I’m not gonna change. Step up, son.

Chef Shanker

Keeping the world in balance.
Have you ever eaten something so delicious it made you angry?