Golden West Cafe
For the record, it is not easy to eat a pile of slop sans a fork. We now have a new respect for pigs.
Vodka and her Baltimore-residing friend, Bloody Mary, are at Golden West Cafe for the third stop on our whirlwind tour of Baltimore Best Thing I Ever Ate locations, and almost instantly, we smell trouble.
|Mmm, The Smell of Deer Carcass in the Morning|
|Starbucks-Level Waiting Period, Non-Starbucks-Level Results|
|We Need Some Liquid Courage to Get Through This Decor|
|Ina Garten Would Not Approve of This Plating "Style"|
1. We can't distinguish half of the food on the plate.
2. We are without silverware, so what else is there to do but look at the thing?
|We Are Presumably Supposed to Dive In Snout-First|
And the huevos montulenos are not good.
|Its Aesthetics Should Have Been a Tip-Off to That Point|
|The Homemade Tortilla = The Only Decent Thing about this Meal|
|So Even the Golden West Employees Won't Eat This...?|
The further we attempt to make our way through the plate, the more disappointed we become: the corn cakes are vaguely cold and fall apart into their respective kernels every time a fork touches them; the eggs are way overcooked and not a single hint of a runny yolk can be found (needless to say, Ginger would be pleased); the feta cheese is so minimal that we would not even had known it was present had the menu not told us so; and the fried bananas are off-puttingly sweet, forcing us to make every effort to avoid even the sight of them.
|Now Doesn't This Look Appetizing?|
Golden West Cafe's Huevos Montulenos: 1 star