Weekend Breakfast: Stanley

After less than a year in the working world, I have officially morphed into one of those people. You know, the ones who say, "My body is so accustom to waking at ___a.m. during the week, that I can't sleep late on the weekends anymore." I used to loathe these individuals, interpreting their early-to-rise ways as underhanded disapproval of my wasting away the weekend in bed. And now, I have becomes one of them.

In the words of Michael Scott: "If that's not poetic justice, then I don't know what is."

One of the few benefits to waking up early on the weekend is beating the brunch rush. Let's be honest: If you are expecting to waltz into Russell's Marina Grill or Surrey's at 11:00am on a Sunday and immediately be seated, then more likely than not you are still drunk from the night before. But at 9:30, usually the wait for a table is minimal (if any at all).

Such was the case at Stanley (on Mother's Day at that), where the Folk Singer and I stood outside in Jackson Square for a brief 5 minutes before our name was called for a table. We wrote about Stanley for OffBeat a while back, but it's been that long since I have eaten there. Not much has changed, and that's a good thing.

I'm still partial to the Breaux Bridge Benedict ($12.50), as the combination of boudin and hollandaise is just too rich to pass up. Poached eggs are orbs set high atop french bread rounds, and a stroke of a knife sends yolk slowly oozing downward like lava from a mountain top. The thin squares of smoked ham scattered around the plate raise the pork quotient even higher, but they're relegated to an afterthought.

The cornmeal crusted oysters in the Eggs Stanley were excellent - golden brown and crunchy on the outside, with a soft interior that exploded with the taste of the sea. Luckily for me, The Folk Singer does not eat oysters, and there is no "classic" benedict on the menu - though I'm sure you can order one by special request.

But you know what I like most about Stanley? The location and windows onto Jackson Square allow you to sit back and watch the Quarter slowly arise from its slumber. You will see everything from tourists rushing to catch an early morning flight, Captain America on his way to Royal Street, and a morbidly obese man sitting shirtless on his Royal Street balcony and drinking a cafe au lait.

Hopefully your eyes avoid that last image until after breakfast.