The menu is modern American with a heavy bent towards comfort food. The dinner offering includes pot pie, potato pancakes, and pepper jelly – all those lovely P-words you want to eat. As for Sunday brunch, between the lavish specials menu and standard bill of fare, we were salivating before we even placed our orders.
On recommendation from the waitress, I chose the Mickey’s Casserole from the brunch menu. It was fabulous, though not as fabulous as some of the other dishes at our table. The crunchy pastry square enveloped scrambled eggs, mild breakfast sausage, and mild cheddar cheese. I would have liked it more if either the bread had been more flavorful, the sausage spicier or the cheese sharper. As it was, the casserole made a somewhat boring vehicle for the really yummy, sweet and savory caramelized onions which were up on top. The potatoes alongside were flat-top fried with lots of herbs, but also needed a punch for me. I used ketchup, but a little dish of sausage gravy would have made these sing. They were chunky and pleasingly crispy, but a tiny bit under-seasoned for me. Mixing them with the onions, though? Killah. Breakfast casserole is usually one of my favorite things in the world, but I make mine at home with both bacon and sausage, and use sharp cheddar and Italian bread in the mix – as it turns out, I should stick with my version.
Hey Mickey, you’re so fine
Kristina’s sausage and potato quiche, off the specials menu, was everything I wish my selection had been: savory, fatty, unctuous and salty. The sausage sang, the cheese was zingy, and tender potatoes gave the wedge of eggy delight some heft. Mine looked prettier, but hers tasted better. I think she won.
Oh wait, hers was prettier, too. That’s not fair.
Mom and Allie ordered a totally epic blueberry French toast casserole abomination of deliciousness off the specials menu. If there is anything even remotely resembling this dish on special when you visit Betty’s, GET IT. I’m not usually a sweets-in-the-morning person, but I could grow to love a dish like this: a thick slab of eggy bread mixed with fresh blueberries (maybe frozen – after baking, who can tell?) with sweetened cream cheese and a healthy drizzle of bright red strawberry syrup. This dish is a valentine to your stomach. It was sweet, but not sickly sweet, thanks to the tang of the cream cheese, and the density mimicked bread pudding without the mouth feel being too heavy. A very successful dish.
Won’t you be mine?
Dad and Pat were holding court at the far end of the table, so tasting their items would have been a pain. Dad got the steak and eggs, which he said was good, although one of his egg yolks was either cooked through or broken, so I know he was a little bummed about the lack of golden, yolky goodness to dip his steak into. Pat got sausage gravy and biscuits, which I was jealous about. I didn’t taste it; I wish I had. But I don’t know Pat that well, and I didn’t know how he’d feel about me eating the majority of his breakfast if I found it to my liking. Oh! I almost forgot to mention the sneaky side of bacon I ordered “for my Mom” halfway through breakfast! It was very subtle in smoke and cure. Different from most hash houses, and quite lovely.
Steak. Eggs. Man food.
Though my breakfast wasn’t my favorite of the plates on our table, I did find all of the food, plus the service and the warm atmosphere, to be above average, and breakfast here was a great experience. I wish I was a local, because I would be a regular. And isn’t that the best endorsement you can give a restaurant? We scored Betty’s a 9.5 on the BHS scale, a highly scientific and democratic evaluation method. That translates into: eat here.