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Brunch Goes Bubbly
Monday Jan 14, 2008.
By Zinny Fandel
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 photo: Zinny Fandel
My practicality continues to get the best of me. On my way to a late Sunday brunch with my friend JH, I stopped at Vas Foremost to get a champagne split. And while the sparkling selection was fairly thorough, its teeny bottle offerings presented a tricky pick: I knew JH and I wouldn't be able to polish off a regular-size bottle, which left me with $13.99 Veuve Cliquot, a $3.99 Marquis de la Tour Brut and a $7.99 bottle of something equally as no-name as the Marquis.
Figuring the taste would be masked by fresh-squeezed OJ anyway, I took the $4 route, hopped on the bike and hoped that a champagne that dubbed itself a "praiseworthy guest to your parties and special events" would be just that.
JH and I had chose Flying Saucer partially because we love its ability to be quirky without being cheesy; for its vegetarian fare; its proactive, unapologetic attitude (a sign in the foyer announced it wouldn't be carrying the too-money-minded Reader anymore); its eco-friendly water policy (ask to receive); its Intelligentsia coffee; its reasonable prices; its Humboldt Park address—and partially because we didn't want to face the closer-to-home Lula's infamous wait. Good thing we love it, and good thing it was a mind-bogglingly warm January day, because it seemed like Lula's overflow had officially named Flying Saucer as their new brunch stand-in.
After 20 minutes of chatting, we were ushered to a sunny table in the corner by the window and wasted no time in selecting our breakfast of champions: one small, freshly squeezed, to-be-shared orange juice; a bagel with cream cheese, tomato, sprouts, onion and cucumber for me; and a mushroom and spinach omelet with spiced apples for JH.
Our relatively healthy choices meant that booze would be our vice that morning, which isn't always the case at the Saucer, with its stuffed French toast and whopping Flying Breakfast Bowl, a hungry man vat of eggs, black beans, rice, cheese, sour cream, pico de gallo and, should that seem a little less belly-busting than you were hoping for, organic sirloin.
The OJ hit the table as a half-full pint glass. We seemed to be in the drinking minority, so I half hid the bottle under our table as I peeled the gold wrapper off, hoping to pop the cork without making a scene. Which I probably did, but only because of my snorting laugh; once the wrapper came off, it revealed a perfectly crafted plastic cover in the shape of a cork, which came off with ease to reveal a good old screwcap.
I dumped the bubbly in, gave the full glass a thorough stir and took a sip: I'm no mimosa pro, so I'm not sure if half-and-half is an appropriate measure, but it had a nice bubbly kick to it and definitely added a potent alcoholic bite to our very large beverage (total cost: $6.50). I think the Marquis might have been a little too boisterous of a guest on his own, but with a first-class date, he definitely perked things up.
We bit into our food, great on both counts. I slathered on the cream cheese, and interspersed savory, veggie-topped bites with our boozy concoction. I had gotten a side salad with mine, not thinking that the bagel already presented a veritable garden of greens; it made JH's spicy, warm apples seem the better choice.
We scraped our plates clean with such a vengeance that I forgot to whip out my camera until after our table had been cleared. We kept working on our mimosa as we paid the bill ($12 each with tip) and vowed to come back soon—perhaps with our new favorite guest in tow.
Zinny Fandel's tales of living the (mostly) BYOB life are intended to be attempted at home and in the community, preferably at BYOB restaurants. If you know of a BYOB spot she simply must tipple at, let her know.
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