One morning, I awoke up bright and early (at 4:00) and couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried for 45 minutes or so, gave up, got up, got dressed and went to the gym. Worked out for an hour, cleaned up for work and it was still only 6:15. This meant that I would HAVE to go sit down somewhere and eat breakfast. I headed to “the city” and had my heart set on Ria’s Bluebird, particularly their huevos rancheros. When I got there, about five after seven, the parking lot was fairly empty. And the “OPEN” sign wasn’t lit. Turns out that they don’t open until eight…..
What was a man to do? I remembered meeting a friend for breakfast at Home Grown, just down the road on Memorial, and having enjoyed the meal back in March and thought I’d give it another try.
Last time, I had ordered a fried pork chop and eggs with sausage gravy. I recalled that it was good and was actually planning on ordering the same thing again.
There is a counter right as you walk in the door, a few tables in the front room, and through the doorway that you can see in the middle of the picture above, more tables, a few booths and a thrift store. Yep, right there in the middle of the picture, a thrift store.
I also remember about four years ago that my wife, mother-in-law and I had eaten here when it was a meat-and-three, Mammy’s Place. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t really good. I wasn’t surprised when I saw some time later that it had closed. I had seen a write-up about Home Grown and their desire to to start a “next-gen meat-and-three in Reynoldstown”, and that’s what had prompted our meeting there.
As I looked over the menu, I was drawn to the Comfy Chicken Biscuit (served open faced blanketed in sausage gravy.) Case settled.
Side Bar: It reminded me of the time that my best friend from college came to our house for dinner. He had been raised by Yankees (similar to being raised by wolves, but with better table manners – in fact, he showed up for dinner in a sport coat. We weren’t quite that formal, most nights. Okay, ever.) Anyhow, my mom had made either country fried steak or fried pork chops (the meat is irrelevant to the story) and gravy. About half way through the meal, we looked and he was spreading the gravy on biscuit with a knife. Like jelly. Priceless – my mom still snickers about that to this day.
Then I tried the chicken – it was good, but I kept going back to the gravy. There is no other word for this sausage gravy than “otherworldly”. Okay, I could use the words “awesome” or “amazing”. But “otherworldly” is what came to mind. And has stuck there for days. I cleaned the plate, sopping each bite of biscuit till it was dripping gravy as it headed toward my mouth. As I was leaving, I told Lisa, one of the owners, my opinion of the gravy. She didn’t look at me like I was crazy. I imagine she gets that a lot <g>.
UPDATE – July 14, 2012
One Saturday morning, Jo asked me what I wanted for breakfast and the only thing that I could think of was the sausage gravy from Home Grown. Off we went. I ordered biscuits and gravy. Just as good as I remembered. And, for a side, a fried bologna sandwich.
Fried bologna reminds me of being a kid. My mom used to make it and the bologna would make a little sombrero on the griddle. Sometimes, you need that comfort food. And, as a concession to healthiness, the fried bologna sandwich had spinach on it. Maybe that counteracts the buttered Texas toast?
Regardless, it was tasty treat. It would have been even better without the spinach.