Not a sucker for Searsucker
Not too long ago my beau and I ventured out on a Sunday morning for what we hoped would be a delicious brunch. Some friends recommended Searsucker, a large and aesthetically gorgeous upscale warehouse-style eatery. The entire menu operates under the mantra of New American Classic Cuisine, which I think might explain the entire obesity epidemic in America.
I couldn't find anything on the brunch menu that didn't leave me with the feeling that I was going to gorge, almost as if I needed to jog a few laps around the building just to earn the right to order. Even my cappuccino came out like a latte, filled with whole milk, almost like drinking half and half with a subtle espresso in the background. The mimosa was strong, but good.
Looking at the menu now, it looks as though what I ordered was a seasonal item. I ordered the sausage eggs Benedict, which offered up light and fluffy eggs, a strong hollandaise, and dry sausage. I wasn't the greatest fan. I also didn't appreciate that the home fries came out drenched in sour cream. Some folks might for for that, but you run into all kinds of food allergy issues when you serve food differently than described in the menu. I'd had enough dairy from my coffee, so I asked for the potatoes to be sent back.
In hindsight, I should've just ordered a salad, but I expected more from a restaurant who touts itself on being an elegant and modern take on American food. I expected classy and refined and I was served globs of fatty dairy products all over my plate and glass. Not a fan.
Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Searsucker is knowing what I'm missing out on. The San Diego brunch menu offers nearly double the options, from more juice, to turkey and herb cheese sandwiches, to crab benedict with avocado and arugula. Ricotta stuffed french toast with orange zest and strawberries? Yes please.
Austin shouldn't settle for Searsucker's halfhearted attempt at brunch.