Monday, February 16, 2009

The Morning After, A Syrcls Brunch Review: Spike Hill

Let’s face it, the last thing you want to do when you wake up from a long (and possibly regrettable) night out is to get out of bed & cook yourself something awesome to make yourself feel more human again. At least for people like me, who pretty much don’t cook at all, going out to brunch is pretty much your best friend. So that’s why I’m here: to share my tales of urban brunching— tales of caution, and/or tales of awesome.

It was a semi-cold but sunny Valentine’s day morning. I was brutally hungover and in probably one of the most ridiculous inner fits of rage ever. I literally wanted to slap the roses out of every goddamn person’s hand I saw. The sight of couples swapping their spit made my head want to explode and increased my nausea tenfold. I was in no mood for having a civil brunch with my roommate.

For whatever reason, we decided that today was the day we were finally going to eat brunch at Spike Hill— a pub right off the Bedford L stop, famous for their burgers. As I’ve mentioned, I’m for the most part, pescatarian. But that day, I was out for blood. I broke. I was weakened by my throbbing head and desire for ripping flesh apart with my teeth. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a visit from Aunt Flo soon, to put things more in perspective.
I ordered a burger, okay! A BURGER. And you know what? It was GLORIOUS. Actually, I would say that honestly, I much prefer Dumont’s burgers, but I haven’t had any type of cow product in my body in probably about 7 months at least. I almost forgot what it was like to be full. I felt really gross afterwards and sort of regretted it. Yes, apparently, I had a bad one night stand with a burger. I like regret eating it, but damn, it was good while I was getting all up in that shit. At least I had a free mimosa to comfort me afterwards.
My roommate got the huevos rancheros, which were really, like San Diego quality excellent. Again with the metaphor of dudes/sex/whatever, I often find that I’ve historically been more of a “tapas” kind of girl. I have trouble committing to one dish, and always think I’m missing out on what everyone else is eating, so I feel compelled to try everything on other people’s plates. Dude, when did this brunch review turn into a Carrie Bradshaw voiceover? I apologize.Anyway, both of the things we had were good. Best burgers in Williamsburg? I don’t think so. Also, I think me & burgers are through. I had a tasty tortelli with butternut squash and truffle oil last night that I’m really into right now. Sorry, I can’t stop. Anywho, Spike Hill, blah blah blah. It was ‘aight. They don’t need any more publicity than they already have by being located at the epicenter of post-collegiate heaven. The end!

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