Let me repost what I wrote on my friend's food blog regarding the service a couple of weeks ago:
I am the fussy breakfast bitch. I hate eggs. Even Steen's ode of eggs earlier in the blog – let’s just say it was all I could do to not hijack it. I think they smell and look atrocious in any preparation and I can only imagine that they taste much worse. So, my choice in breakfast foods is limited, so you would think. I have no qualms eating carne asada tacos and pad see yew (sans oeuf ) at the crack of dawn any day.
So, on my first trip to BLD, thesis literature in tow, I was delighted to come across these berry ricotta pancakes. They are like a little bit of heaven, that’s what they are like. Aside from the asinine little aluminum tin of maple syrup that comes on the side (way too f---ng precious, and ever so slightly messy), they are a definitive pancake experience. The one drawback was the home fries with lomo and chorizo I got on the side. They were dry and the meat was indistinguishable from dried chipped beef one might find in SOS (the charcuterie is supposed to be a highlight of the menu, so I was a bit surprised that the little bit of minced meat was unremarkable). But I just knew, that one day, hopefully sooner than later, I would go back from more of those cakes.
I did. With my friend Alvino. I call him Taffy, after the character in Female Trouble. You just have to become fully immersed in the Alvino experience to understand. Words fail me.
The waitress came and asked us if we had any questions about the menu. Eggs and pancakes must be really confounding for some people, I suppose. Or does she make us out to be morons?
I ordered my pancakes as planned, but I wanted to try some of this famous meat. She told me that there was a small selection at the bottom of the menu and that one selection came with my order. Funny, it didn’t last time. At any rate, I selected some chicken merguez. Alvino ordered the meat lover’s omelet. Note to chef: maybe not name a dish after a Pizza Hut staple at the boogie restaurant. And we were off.
She brought the coffee in this chrome press pot. When I went to grab it, she made it a point to swiftly plunge it down and explain to use slowly that it was a French press. Oh, God – you’re tip is slowly shrinking as we speak. Not only that, but she brought salt and pepper to the table, and instructed us on how to use them. I am floored again as I write this.
The pancakes were wonderful again and the sausage was excellent. It would have been better if I were not charged separately for them as she had so indicated at the onset. Alvino’s dish was reportedly wonderful, with those same lomo home fries that I deplored before (things are looking up for the meaty spuds), and he had a biscuit that he raved about as well.
Funny how the change we got back was just short of a 15% tip. I will go back again for those flapjacks. But if I am being singled out for being young, fresh, and pretty and not like the KCRW subscribers with treatments being optioned who seemed to permeate the place, I can handle it.