Denny's was an amazing experience of culinary mediocrity when I was in college and it was the only place back in the 70's which was open at 3 a.m., which is when I normally got off work and/or had friends to hang out with in the wee hours of the morning.
I have been forced back into a kinship of sorts with Denny's over the past ten years by my second daughter's adoration for huge cholerically-overburdened breakfast plates and our local franchise being a few short block's from her apartment.
Today I ordered French Toast (certainly they couldn't get it wrong twice in a row), and got the smallest piece of bread I have ever seen dipped in batter, fried, and almost overwhelmed by the one scoop topping of fat lard... er, sorry, it's called butter in polite circles.
From now on, it's gonna be McDonad's Egg McGriddles or nothing - sorry, Denny's, you had your chance.
0 comments:
Post a Comment