Filipino Breakfast

We walked the .2 miles to Uncle Mike’s Place. It was a long .2 in ninety degree heat- felt like .3 or longer. The interior was cool in climate and design. Green ceiling, tiled walls, aqua cambro cups. They have half size plastic cambro cups for kids. The laminated menu reminded me of bad diner food, the coffee from Metropolis I don’t like and the waiters noticeably lagged after 7 hours of Sunday brunch. Etta ordered the steak and eggs only to be told ten minutes later by a tired waiter that uncle mike had run out of skirt steak. She changed her order to patty melt.

The surprise was the food had quality. First we received a lemony garlicky rice porridge called lugao. The waitstaff though understandably hobbled after the bulk of a ninety plus degree shift covered coffee refills and worked as a team. A second server brought mayonnaise for Etta’s patty melt. The French fries were hand cut. The potato salad was homemade. My sausages were sweet. My rice was garlicky. My eggs were cooked to perfection- over easy. I think there was fish sauce in the salsa. And despite leaving full I still limped to hoosier mama for a big piece of banana cream pie that I scarfed in its entirety like a sick dog.