Restaurants

On Eggshells

Continued from page 1

Ned, who's a grump until he gets his first cup of coffee, snorted at one of Johnson's decorative details: Each table is dolled up with a china cup filled with coffee beans and a spray of fabric flowers. "Straight out of granny's garage sale," he said, rolling his eyes. But the robust brew roused him, and soon he was regaling us with the hilarious romantic tribulations of a mutual friend. Still, Ned grumbled about his Cobb omelet, saying it was "as dry as the Sahara" and needed more avocado.

I wasn't sure what a Despierto burrito would be, but despierto is wake up in Spanish and I was pleased by a fat tortilla packed with unrunny scrambled eggs, cheddar, onion and that unspicy chorizo. In fact, Carol Ann loved my breakfast, though she was less enamored with the one she ordered. Her Crepes Cena was a trio of papery-thin crepes wrapped around a rather unimpressive spinach soufflé (once again, it's that fluff problem) and draped in a "spiced Hollandaise" that was more peppery than spicy.

Bob is one of those patrons who has eccentric demands, but they're not unreasonable. He likes Eggtc.'s fresh fruit compote — a jumble of purple grapes, blueberries, strawberries and cantaloupe — but insists that it be topped with yogurt mixed with honey. It's a request that can throw off an inflexible waitress, but here he usually gets his way. And he always orders the same main course, a perfectly prepared eggs Benedict made with smoked ham and a velvety Hollandaise.

And I should note that the kitchen turns out a top-notch pancake. With a little tweaking, Johnson's joint has the potential to become one hell of a rodeo.

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