Another Broken Egg Cafe
65 S. Highland
On Saturday morning, I drove to Mike Rose Soccer Complex in Collierville at 8am to watch Jiro play in a soccer tournament. After the game, he was starving. He recently got a phone with service, so on our ride back to Midtown, he started looking for places to eat breakfast. "How about Bryant's?" he asked. "No, Brother Juniper's," he said.
"Both of those places are going to be mobbed at 10am on a Saturday," I said.
"Oh," he said, in a merpy kind of way.
"We can drive by and see," I said. "I can wait if you can."
So on to Brother Juniper's we went. There weren't many people outside, so I got hopeful. We parked and then once inside I remembered that they built an entire room for people to wait in. The hostess said it would be about 45 minutes. Not terrible, but also not do-able. "Let's try that Broken Egg Cafe," I suggested to Jiro.
"How far away is it?" he asked.
"Just down the street," I said. "Where El Porton used to be."
Now, I can't say that I was really dying to try this place despite a few people, including my mother, telling me how good it was. I just knew it wasn't my kind of place. But, they have restaurants in 12 states, so clearly there are plenty of folks who consider it their kind of place.
It was pretty crazy crowded when we got there, but we were seated right away. I'd say the interior has been opened up a bit since El Porton was there, so inside has a lot of seating. There's also still the massive patio and seats at the bar. (Yes, full bar.)
It really feels like a place in another town, if that makes any sense. Like a place you eat at on a road trip. A Howard Johnson's maybe? It just has a very generic vibe going on.
We were right by the kitchen so there was a lot of hustle and bustle, but it was ok. A waitress came right over for our drink orders and easily talked us into starting with an order of City Grits ($3.89). The description included the words garlic and gouda, but Jiro was not deterred.
The waitress also asked if we had any questions about the menu, which was huge, and explained that it was a little different than other places. "We're a California style Louisiana kitchen," she explained.
"They have beignets," I noted.
"Biscuit beignets," Jiro corrected me. "It's like they took two good things and combined them into something disgusting."
Jiro ultimately decided on the Cinnamon French Toast ($10.59) and I went with the Southwest Scramble ($10.89.)
The grits came out and Jiro said, "Will you help me pick off the tomatoes?"
"Just push them over to my side," I said.
"These are delicious," Jiro said between bites.
I had to agree. "These are either the best grits ever or we are just starving."
We plowed through them and then I don't think either of us was really hungry anymore. (Note to self, stop ordering appetizers!)
While we waited on the rest of the food, I marveled at their drink menu.
Party at Another Broken Egg!
I hadn't had any coffee yet and I was tempted to order one of these.
Out came the food. It was okay.
I think Jiro ate about four bites of his before declaring it too sweet. (Shocking!)
I offered him some of mine, and he did a pretty good job of polishing off my potatoes. (His original reason for wanting a sit down breakfast was so he could get some hashbrowns.)
My scramble was ok. It was definitely massive. The guac was inedible. All in all, it was fine.
Our total was $27.72 plus tip.
I can't see us ever going back, unless it's to get that frozen coffee and beignet and bacon drink (lol), but if you are in a pickle and need food fast, this is your place. They serve breakfast and lunch all day. And the service is pretty darn good.
On our ride home, Jiro let out a little gas and I said, "Another broken egg, huh?" So, yeah, at least I got a good joke out of the experience.