Breakfast Club Sandwich, The Top
Be afraid. Be very afraid. This sandwich. Will. Kick. Your. Ass.
We were at The Top for brunch last Sunday with friends before a friendly meander around the art fair downtown. No big deal. We’ve done brunch at The Top dozens of times. It’s always good, and there’s plenty of coffee. And if I’m lucky, there’s Cuban bread with goat and cream cheese with guava on the menu (absolutely recommend, but I wish they’d put more goat and less cream cheese).
The menu was a bit different Sunday. We’re used to that. They’re working on brunch constantly. You never really know what cool things will get added.
Case in point…. bom bom bommmmmm… the Breakfast Club. At first it was a curiosity that the guys skimmed over. But they started talking about it and getting worked up to try it out. An egg, tofu, or tempeh, with lettuce, mayo, tomato, bacon or seitan bacon, on sourdough toast, with swiss cheese. Side of home fries, grits, or fruit. And another $1.00 for fried green tomatoes on it.
Well okay, it’s a sandwich and it sounds good. How many times have you had something very much like that? I could whip up one of those as a late night snack. But the Man and his foodie guy friends don’t ever take the easy option. Especially when there’s an option to add cheese, hot peppers, seitan, gravy, fried onions, eggs, or more beer to anything. So of course they had to go with the version that had all of the bells and whistles.
Even then, seriously, the basic model of this sandwich is enough to make Takeru Kobayashi pause for a breath before reaching for the second half. The triple-decker had a few quivering tooth picks speared through it to hold it together, but that was just a gesture. It was touch and go while they contemplated how to put Sriracha on these things. I almost saw fear in their eyes. Almost.
Suffice it to say, they could have split a sandwich and been more than happily full for the rest of the day. But not our gentlemen. With one eye on their own plates, and one on the other’s plate, they managed to devour the whole thing without making it look like it was any kind of competition. Which it wasn’t.
I wish we could have rented adult-size strollers for the art fair because the guys were food-drunk zombies. If they weren’t pointed in a specific direction and given a gentle push, there were content to stand in the sun and digest. And I cannot underline this enough… we did not buy any food at the art fair. This is how happy and full they were. Subdued like a bludgeoned anaconda, bloated from eating a whole goat.
So thumbs up and as many stars as possible to The Top’s Breakfast Club sandwich on their brunch menu. And don’t say I didn’t warn you. “Don’t mess with the bull, young man. You’ll get the horns.”