Well, I'm back with a Port Fonda brunch . . . and plenty of excuses, all weak for someone who is a dedicated blogger
But I will say: Seattle, Paris, Dallas, granddaughter, and moving. And oh, yeah, other (paying) work.
But enough of that. I'll just plunge back in, instead.
I must mention that almost any brunch starts off pretty well with a Bloody Mary. The trick, of course, at Port Fonda is you have to make your own from a vast selection. Last time I poured in everything, added all kinds of stuff, spiced it up to the hilt, and the result? Well, let's just say I was hesitant to try it again.
But the very cute server had a trick for me -- wait to pour the vodka in LAST. Duh. That way you can taste what you've concocted FIRST -- they're always willing to give you an empty glass with ice, but not the tequila or vodka for some strange reason.
So I kept it simple and it was yummy. I used their house blend mixer. That's a very tall celery stick . . . I was hungry and do believe in the famous eatingceleryisdeletingcalories theory. Probably made up for the slice of bacon I had to have that moment. Now look at the pictures below and read on, Macduff.
Now for the food. Let me sum up simply: Everything was simply delish. Jackie loved her burgesa (beef/pork/bacon) which was about an inch thick, not counting that head of lettuce on top of it. It came with a bowl of mini ruedas (pinwheels) which were fried, spiced morsels of lightness. That green bowlful? Pozole verde with mostly pork and crunchy things and limited hominy. Hal and Bill both had the huevos benedictos with pork belly and I never knew one could eat so much so quickly. Or make that two. We finished up with the donas de requeson, aka ricotta doughnuts . . . that pic is my plate, one of four donuts, with a hefty dose of caramel and tres leches sauce, one not being enough no doubt.
My biggest gripe at Port Fonda has always been the noise level. The music cranked up sooo loud you cannot carry on a conversation at all, unless you are yelling into the person's ear beside you (both person and ear should be attached.) We got there at 10 a.m. and the music was really loud, per expectation, and no one hardly was there yet. However, I began to ask for it to be lowered, "You know, there's no one here but us old folks and I'm wondering . . ." and our waitress smilingly finished the sentence for me, ". . . if we can turn the music down." Yes, say we, all nodding fervently. She does and remarkably, the place filled, the music was never reset to tornado level, and when we left, we hadn't yelled ourselves hoarse. We were just really, really full -- and really, really happy.
If you've eaten at Port Fonda lately, whaddya think?