I don’t understand why this place isn’t called Abigail’s Restaurant, or Abigail’s Cafe, or hey maybe even Abigail’s Place. Party is not contextually appropriate as a descriptor for what Abigail’s is all about. Just walk inside and see for yourself. No DJ’s, no dancing, not even a casual smoking lounge.
I think I just got it, the party is supposed to be in your mouth. How fun. Do you know what’s not fun? Going to a upper-crust breakfast establishment with delicious menu items outside the Benedict realm. What item may you ask tempted me away from my breakfast muse? Perhaps a Bison Short Rib Hash: Tender, slow-cooked bison short ribs, fresh baby spinach, caramelized onions, fresh herbs, red new potatoes and two poached eggs, topped with home-made hollandaise and served with mullti-grain toast.
I will never be swayed though. It’s just easy to blurt out Benedict! when the mind is recovering from the terrible, terrible things you’ve done to it the night before. Plus, who the fuck eats multi-grain toast anyways? You might as well eat your eggs on cardboard. So what can be said about an Eggs Benedict from a party (just another example of how this word is wildly inappropriate) which specializes in all those fancy-assed foodie staples such as confits, reductions and areola’s…. er… aioli’s?
A unique Benedict to say the least. Although classic to the core in construction this Benny has a secret smokey flavor wrought from the most superbly toasted English muffin and what I believe to be smoked pea meal Canadian bacon. Combined with brilliant Eggy Weggys, a thick homemade Hollandaise and perhaps the crunchiest hashbrowns I have ever had. Yum. A little on the expensive side, but get over it you’re in Kits and you’re a yuppie.