It comes with a poached egg on top.
I don’t use the word “quaint” in my life for a reason (it reminds me of faded, floral, but metallic around the edges grandma wallpaper), but there’s no other way to accurately describe Vinegar Hill House. It’s the kind of journey you didn’t know you needed until you checked out this cornbread brisket situation, which was actually a revelation, and now, life will never be the same. If you like life crispy around the edges, start walking.
This place is a destination, as it’s relatively in the middle of nowhere. (What is Vinegar Hill?) You can start planning your voyage as of…yesterday. The outdoor garden is charming as f*ck so make sure you snag a seat al fresco and go on a day when this brisket situation can finagle its way inside you.
The other part was an egg white omelet (not pictured), which surprisingly, tasted like…an egg white omelet, which was partially my fault because…fat. To be fair, it did include some nice embellishments like sweet corn, ricotta, and zucchini, so it was an upgrade from the ones in my crib, which feature spicy honey mustard, red pepper flakes, and oregano.
Go here. The Infatuation says so (and they gave it an 8.9!), and they essentially are the reincarnation of the holy bible, so don’t ask questions. If you’d like to mingle with fanny packs and selfie sticks on a suffocatingly broiling Saturday morning, you can stroll the Brooklyn Bridge and Google Maps it to the restaurant, which is only an added 16 minutes. Then get a bloody mary at the bar while you wait for a table outside and drink away lifes worries with tomatoes and sodium. Works like L’Oreal Telescopic mascara. (That shit works.)