Breakfast At The Mercury

Our friend, Batty, was in town over the weekend with the hopes of repeatedly throwing himself out of an airplane. The next day, when he was all done doing just that and still alive and well, the Palinode and I took him to the Mercury for breakfast.

Mercury menu

I am a fan of breakfast, because breakfast is awesome. It's that simple. It is its own argument.

While we waited for our orders, I took pictures of the back of the Palinode's head, because the fronts of people's heads were not cooperating with my camera. As soon as I snapped a photo, Batty and the Palinode's faces would yawn or grimace or morph into ugly people.

It wasn't their fault. It's just what happens when it's been months since my Nikon D60 and I have reacquainted ourselves with one another.

Aidan at the Mercury

Most of what made up our breakfasts was good, except for the bacon. There is no room for poorly cooked bacon when I am at the table. The bacon was limp, pink, and barely cooked past being defrosted. When we sent it back to be crispified, it came back uncrispy. I think they threw it in the deep fryer for a few seconds rather than fry it properly.

As a sibling restaurant to Regina's historic Novia, I expected better.

Mercury bacon

I will be back, because you had kick ass hashbrowns with the skins still on, but you are on notice, Mercury.

That Girl At The Aegean

Me at MamaPop: I'm Sorry to Break It to You, But You Can't Buy Dr. Jack Kevorkian's Death Van on eBay Anymore