Heat brunch - San Diego (Hillcrest)

The Heat Is On
One of the things I miss most about Jersey - the diners. A place to grab a simple plate of bacon and eggs. I’d struggled in San Diego for the last decade to find a regular breakfast haunt, but I finally felt like I was getting warmer when I discovered Heat, where brunch meant bottomless mimosas with a personal bottle of bubbly on the table, and a menu that offered the standard staples like pancakes and eggs, while upping the ante with homemade sauces, gravies, and baked goods.

Setting
They should have named this Air instead of Heat because a natural breezeway formed within the flow of a dining room fitted with wide, open windows and a basic beige background. Fabric umbrellas covered the outside patio and spread their orange wings over table tops tiled with shimmery, mosaic squares.

Bubbly
$10 bottomless mimosa (with an entrée) = the entire bottle* and a mini carafe of OJ

*It’s Wycliff brut champagne (9.5% alcohol content vs 12% in Korbel brut), so it’s a little lower in alcohol content, but still ended up being a good deal.

Eats

Leek and truffle quiche $13
The resounding trumpet of truffles filled my mouth without being overwhelming - simply decadent. The eggs: fluffed and creamy. Leeks: mild and tender. The crust: buttery and flaky. The only change I would have made was to choose the fresh fruit instead of the side salad that featured beets, a cauliflower crown and minimal vinaigrette.

Country sausage gravy with an over easy egg on a jalapeno cheddar biscuit $12
Heat knew how to put the “sausage” in sausage gravy…literally!! There have been so many times I’ve been served white, flour-filled paste with little gray lumps of meat trying to pass itself off as sausage gravy. But at Heat, this came mounded with hunks of sausage in rich, flavorful gravy, whose thickness had no identifiable traces of any floury origins. The biscuit was laid open like an oyster shell, speckled with jalapeno and melted cheddar, and in the center lay a glistening over easy egg shining like a beautiful, yolk-filled pearl.

Country chicken fried steak with sausage gravy, a jalapeno cheddar biscuit and breakfast potatoes $14
This was the next step up when it came to the sausage gravy options. Instead of an egg, this came like an open-faced sandwich with a narrow plank of deep fried, battered meat that had been pounded out thinly and laid like a crisp sheet atop the flaky pillow of a biscuit beneath. To top it off, the home fries had clearly spend a little time in the deep fryer and were crispy on the outside and squishy on the inside.

Heat Repeat
I could get used to this place. They always offered a couple specials, which in the past included options like homemade corned beef hash with béarnaise sauce and pork chilaquiles (chicken chilaquiles is a regular menu item). The waitresses were super friendly in a genuine way that gave Heat a happy air and made me long for Jersey breakfasts a little less.

Eclipse Chocolate - South Park, San Diego

Total Eclipse of the Heart

I hadn’t visited Eclipse Chocolate since they moved their shop from North to South Park, and even though I’d become a devout fan of their eclectic, homemade chocolate bars – hazelnut chili, espresso walnut, sweet basil mint, blackberry sage – what really blew me away was their take on brunch.

The idea: Everything had an element of chocolate, vanilla or caramel.
The deal: Three plates for $16 (one entrée and two small plates).
The challenge: Executing a sweet and savory menu chockfull of culinary catch 22s.

Sips
Drinking chocolate: This would send Swiss Miss packing back to the Alps…or at least the powdered drink aisle. This mixture of melted chocolate with just enough milk to make it drinkable (our pick: sea salt caramel) could have saved Augustus Gloop from getting sucked up Wonka's extraction chute because this chocolate river was flowing with the strength of Niagara Falls and guzzling its stream was highly encouraged. Steam waved at us from the goldfish bowl-of-a-cup that held two, perfectly square marshmallows, whose handcrafted edges summoned the same pleasure of swallowing a snowflake’s individual design.




Then along came Mary...

I went for the Barley spirit bloody Mary speckled with black pepper and a cache of condiments (pickled cauliflower, red pepper, golden beet), distracting me from my first instinct of ordering a champagne drink, which I longed for after I realized something about Mary – all that flare still didn’t float my boat as much as a bit of bubbly.

Eats
Small plates
NOTE: Cocoa glazed bacon is not chocolate dipped bacon, but instead similar to the concept of caramelized or maple bacon. Chocolate’s earthy sweetness was present in a dusting of cocoa, but bacon’s salty smoke was still head hog.

‘Sup with the soup?: I chose the French onion instead of carrot-ginger soup, but when a glass tumbler arrived with none of the browned, cheesy adhesions I’d expected, I was disappointed. Instead, a stiff wafer of cheese fit inside the mouth of the glass like a circular dam and a handful of rough-cut croutons were arranged on the saucer like sugar cubes. But after they were dropped in, it was hard to keep the “dairy disc” sideways while bobbing for croutons.



I longed for the usual stringy octopus of gruyere and mozzarella suctioned to every surface, but I forgave this momentarily as my first spoonful of broth sang with rich notes of caramelized, vegetable sweetness…before being drowned out by the overpowering punch of sugar from the croutons. Someone should've stepped in and given this soup an intervention because it came from good (vegetable) stock, but needed more tweaks than a meth-head.

Citrus and vanilla potatoes: These wedges came coated with tart bursts of orange and scented with a thin veil of vanilla that lightly traced itself into every bite = orange blossom for the palate. These could have blown me away if it weren’t for two things:
1) They needed to be much crispier – sog city.
2) They needed to be much warmer (all of the food was somewhat cold, which was a BIG problem).

Entrées
Building a better Ben-addict: When I didn’t miss my English muffin, I eyed the buttermilk toast suspiciously before admitting that not only did this toast strum some tang on the tongue, but its foundation was sturdy enough to hold whatever my architectural eye could design:



Build-a-Benedict: Buttermilk toast + soft poached egg + chive + choice of topping + choice of sauce:

Toppings:
*Avocado with vanilla bean sea-salted avocado*
Brown sugar pulled pork
Cocoa glazed bacon

Sauces:
*Chili burnt caramel hollandaise*
Brute cocoa mole
Spicy pork sausage gravy

*My design*: I felt like a naturalist coming upon a rare nest as I prodded the soft poached egg tucked along the uneven seams of mashed avocado. I loved fooling myself into thinking I was eating healthy by ordering a "veggie benedict", but once I started lapping up the puddle of caramel hollandaise, I had to give up the charade. Every element hit its mark with surprising accuracy and I was shocked that I didn’t miss the meat, but then again, my ben-addict brain was already designing my next blueprint: the pulled pork and cocoa mole project.

Blueberry stuffed French toast: Picture an ordinary sandwich. Now, replace the bread with two pieces of buttermilk French toast and stuff the insides with a blend of mascarpone and blueberries. Cinnamon-sugar boulders, akin to crumb cake topping, cascade down the side and you realize: this isn’t your average stuffed French toast. No - this guy was in another genre altogether - under the “PB&J iconic sandwiches” category. Watch your back, Fluffernutter...French-n-berry is coming to get ya.

Total Eclipse: Overall, I was seriously impressed with Eclipse’s control over a potentially disastrous menu that not only worked, but embraced the limitless possibility of their niche business. Most chocolate shops stay just that – chocolate shops - but Eclipse’s expansion outside the dessert world breathed life into their brunch and took it a step further with their ever-changing, monthly dinners that continued to test the boundaries of sweet and savory marriages ($30 for three courses). I guess the song was right after all…the Candy Man can.

Alchemy- San Diego Restaurant

Turning greens to gold
“I don’t even like vegetables and I come here for the vegetables.” My friend had said it best. Never had I been so enamored with Brussels sprouts, chard or beets. Their small portions were surprisingly filling and the price was right (entrees around $10-15.) Menu items changed seasonally, which could cause trouble for an, “I’ll have the usual” customer like me, but this time the seasonal switch-a-roo worked in my favor.

Spring Menu
Beet it: My friend and I decided to try the goat cheese ravioli, but I was skeptical of its beet reduction. Beet’s earthy nature had never been my favorite and now I was worried they’d ruin my starchy pockets of goodness, but they only enhanced the creaminess of the goat cheese. The reduction was mixed with a bit of balsamic and added just enough sweetness to balance the dish. Who knew? I like beets!

Sprout-prise: The menu selection was rather limited and more on the healthy side, but my friend insisted I have the halibut. Perfect…until I saw it rested on a bed of Brussels sprouts- eww. But again, my judgmental mind gave way to an appeased palate. The halibut was flaky, moist and married seamlessly with the sautéed sprouts and caramelized walnuts. The buttery depth of the nut brought out a silky, sweetness in the sprout that I never thought possible. Who knew? I like Brussels sprouts!

Summer Menu
Veggie Voyeur: I would never have ordered this lasagna if it had been preceded by the word, “vegetable”, but disguised under the pseudonym, “market fresh”, I was lured towards a dish I wouldn’t normally order. Intrigued with its five layers (sautéed spinach, roasted cremini mushrooms, grilled eggplant, basil, ricotta and fresh mozzarella) along with the promise of fresh pasta, I was ready for the show. Each ingredient retained its own character, but came together like a Broadway production on my tongue- every bite was savored (bright lights, big finish.) Who knew? I like veggie lasagna!

Chard Card: I’ve never been a big fan of tuna steak and that’s why when my companion offered me a taste, I begrudgingly accepted. The problem was that after she offered me one bite, I kept asking for more. This plump piece of fish rested on a peppery chard that brought out the fruity appeal from small chunks of cantaloupe. Tossed lightly in sumac vinaigrette and crowned with crispy leeks, it was something I would have ordered myself. Who knew? I like chard (and tuna)!

Alchemy chose its name wisely- turning the ordinary into something valuable. I will promise to eat all my veggies, as long as they're serving.*


*Sunday brunch (10am-2pm) some items that sound yummy:
Bacon bloody Mary, shrimp and white cheddar grits and snap peas, Alchemy Poutine (shoestring fries / sausage gravy / mahon cheese / mushrooms / sunny side egg