Despite, or perhaps because of, living so close to Sunday Breakfast Row-- the strip of Roscoe that includes the wildly popular Kitsch'n and Victory's Banner, the overlooked Brett's, an unusually posh Starbucks and, I noticed today, a strip where even the Guatemalan place (El Tinajon) is open on Sunday morning to catch overflow from its more famous and backwards-R'd neighbors-- despite that, or because of it, I am notably
jaundiced about the whole idea of breakfast. So while the rest of you were making plans to crowd
Edgebrook Diner for biscuits and gravy this morning, all I could think of was how unlikely it was that four spots would open up for us on the counter before my youngest broke something.
But luckily, I had a breakfast ace in the hole, a secret unknown to the hordes crowding the first block or two of S.B.R. I had spotted it yesterday:
Turkish breakfast, what's that? asked my wife when I proposed the idea. Who knows? I said. Only one way to find out.
The breakfast got off to a slightly rocky start, service-wise, first because we were marched through the utterly empty restaurant to a table far from the natural light I wanted for photos, and second because (as champagne was poured) we were asked "Do you know what you want?" without a menu, an explanation of Turkish breakfast, anything. Finally we pried the secret of Turkish breakfast out of them-- or rather we were treated to a long list of items, not always sure where one ended and the next began. We talked about what the kids might actually eat-- and then before we could order for ourselves, he was gone.
Well, as it turned out we didn't need to order because Turkish breakfast turned out to mean a bountiful plate of absolutely
everything he had named, for us to dish up ourselves at the table. Here's what we had for the princely sum of $12.95 (and half that for the kids):
Hot Turkish bread with butter and honey.
Salad with feta and olives.
Crepes (plain).
Squares of something called something like soubiri, basically bread wettened and baked into savory bread pudding with feta and parsley inside:
A sort of potato mash-fry thing, with onion.
An "omelet" consisting of fried eggs with chunks of a chorizo-like sausage:
Another omelet consisting of fried eggs atop a ratatouille-like sauce of tomatoes, onions and other vegetables:
A special cheesy-scrambled egg creation for the kids, and:
Fruit. Which we ended up taking home.
Oddly, it was only as I was walking home and passed Starbucks that I realized the one thing Turkish breakfast did not include is something Turks are famous for drinking-- coffee.
Compared to the brunch buffets, which is what this resembled more than breakfast at Kitsch'n, say, this was a steal at this price and everything was fresher and more interesting than the usual desultory bins of scrambled eggs and baked halibut. The omelet with the tomato sauce was outstanding, everything else was at least interesting, and Turquoise is a nice, upscale place where you could take the in-laws on a Chicago visit. So if you can't get in to Edgebrook Diner today, you're only about 5 miles away, check it out.
Turquoise Restaurant
2147 W. Roscoe St.
773-549-3523