Sorry but I just don’t get what all the fuss is about.
I wanted to love Mr Buckley’s, being just a short stumble from my house.
However, the first time we tried to go for brunch we were told they were fully booked. Who the HELL books for breakfast? Ok fine, I’ll play by the rules.
Second try consisted of Laura my housemate bursting into my house after far too much wine the night before singing Black Box – “Right on Time” Which confirms my opinion that you shouldn’t have to book for breakfast as you just don’t know what time coffee will make you vomit or revive you. Anyway, I digress.
So, on our second visit we arrived. Unfortunately no-one else did. We were the only table in there. Now I know these hipsters move on quickly but jeez!
I ordered the skillet breakfast – eggs, potatoes, spinach, feta, tomatoes & pancetta. Sure it arrived in a nice big pan but on closer inspection the egg was way too raw for my liking, resembling mucas and the pancetta was so stingy I thought they’d forgotten it. Then I found a hair on my toast. Ah.
Look – credit where credit’s due the waitress happily replaced it with the Potato & Courgette Rosti, bacon, avocado & poached egg, which was perfectly nice if a little forgettable.
The Crab Cake Benedict was delicious but the Pancakes with goat’s milk yoghurt, cinnamon pears & honey stole the show.
Unfortunately I’ve found nicer places to spend my Saturday mornings………try Railroad or The Breakfast Club instead.
“Got to get up got to get up got to get up, Cuz you’re right on time, right on time”