Omaha, NE 68102
Open Tues thru Thurs 11am-10pm, Fri and Sat 11am-midnight, Sunday brunch 10am-2pm
Ham, peppers, onions and cheddar,
with marble rye and the besterest homefries around
|Bailey's & Coffee--|
Ever notice that Bailey's smells gross unless you're the one drinking it?
A worthy beverage to start your day.
People are weird about their eggs. In another life I was a diner waitress, and I served everything from "scrambled soft with American cheese" to "over hard and don't break the yolks" to the ever-popular "basted." It should be hard to mess up brunch food, but the truth is it's far too easy. Too many options, too many special requests, too many things that don't taste good once they've been sitting under a heat strip. Bacon that's too crispy, or not crispy enough. People who are pissed off 'cause they just came from church. You get the idea. And need I remind you that hardly any of it is even remotely good for you.
Many of the dishes jived with what I think makes a good brunch, but not all. My Colorado Omelette was a neatly folded disc with the right amount of high-grade fillings. The homefries were absolutely spot on with what I prefer: red potatoes, skin on, sauteed with not too much butter and oil, and a present but not overwhelming dash of herbs. However, for once it seemed I was the object of most of my friends' plate envy. The Brunchaladas, in spite of savory ingredients like chorizo and enchilada sauce, got two votes of "blah" and "bland." The Tree Huggers pancakes were a major bummer, as I expected the banana slices to be a part of the actual pancake instead of lazily thrown on top. The result was nothing more than a heavy and dry waste of Bisquick. A few other items were deemed "pretty damn good," but the only thing safe to say is that Jackson Street is a "hit or miss" kind of place right now.
Banana-granola pancakes, maple syrup and whipped butter.
Thick, heavy, boring. This is how not to make pancakes.
The atmosphere was easy like Sunday morning. Lots of natural light to show off our under-eye circles, hard-earned from the night before, and efficient but not intrusive service. We totally were the assholes who overstayed our welcome almost an hour past closing time, but didn't catch a single hairy eyeball from the staff. This would be a great place to start off one of those "Sunday Fundays," complete with filling food at reasonable prices, and a brunch cocktail or three.
Stick an avocado on it and call it "California."
One of the good ones.
Black angus corned beef and poached eggs provide you with the
right fuel to get through your Sunday on the sofa.
This one's a little messy. Square bowl reminiscent of a piggy trough?
Might want to rethink this one.