First place we ate on this Ireland trip is a little spot called Meet Me In The Morning which looks ripped out of 2010 Brooklyn (this is a good thing, a very very good thing). It’s one of those little spots where the restaurant is tiny, the kitchen is small and open, the food in well thought out and masterfully made, and the chef probably picked all the greens themselves that morning
It was a hash, so I ordered it quickly and didn’t think to look at the ingredients. Well, it was a fucking beet hash. FUCK YOU DONT MAKE ME EAT BEETS. Beets? I wanted beef. Corned muphukin beef. Not “your gonna think you’re intestines are bleeding tomorrow morning” beets. I hate beets. Here’s the most fucked up part, it was delicious!
FUCK YOU DONT MAKE ME LIKE BEETS
It also had potatoes, chorizo, mustard greens mixed with a light red wine vinegar, fried halloumi cheese (🤘 2 pieces of fried cheese myguy), and a sour cream type spread underneath which gave a nice richness and tartness. There was also a poached egg but let’s not talk about it
Aight fuck it let’s talk about it, shit was wayyy over done. I didn’t say anything but afterwards I asked if that was how they serve it and the waitress said no, no apologies, and just took the plate away. Son, we need to get some tipping going here cause they’re fucking up and chucking shoulders up like that’s all good. I just dropped $50 for breakfast, bruh, cook the damn egg perfectly or don’t serve it. If you do, show something on your face other than indifference. Maybe cut the coffee off the bill. Something. You fucking fed me beets like some vegan, after all. Have a heart.
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