How I got so full: Lunch at bld

The owners of the classy westside number GRACE recently (I think it was recent, anyway) opened a diner of the upscale variety two blocks up the street that goes by the name bld. The hosts are kind, the windows are wide and clear and the clientèle is pretentiously unpretentious--but in a good way. "Bld" isn't some sucker's shorthand for boulevard without the "v," it stands for the three mainstay meals that comprise the bld menu: breakfast, lunch and dinner. Simple, to the point. Good (and bad) for me, they serve breakfast basically all day. And dammit if I don't want to eat breakfast all day.

Took a "work lunch" on Thursday with two fellow cube-dwellers, who we'll call Connecticut and Local (obviously based on the places from which they hail). They both went the lunch route, ordering the tuna melt which came with a healthy-portioned side salad. I thought they had ordered salads and gotten bread smeared with tuna on the side. Boy, was my face red. What do you mean that salad wasn't the meal?

I, however, opted for breakfast and got the menu item "eggs as you like them." Nice. Because that's JUST how I like my eggs. That's right, I like them as I like them. Scrambled, that is. The waitress recommended the thyme-seasoned fingerling potatoes and the famous bld brioche bread to round out the $7 meal. But when the eggs came, bld's "generous" portions appeared before me, monstrous. It had to be five eggs scrambled there on my plate. And in some fight with nature to consume them all, I went at them like a beast.

The potatoes, I wouldn't take again, but I don't blame them: I hate potatoes. The bread was nothing to write a blog about, either (though I'll mention them briefly here for posterity's sake). But the eggs? I'm still feeling those eggs. And after falling prey to the chessboard of food options at a friend's place hosting a poker night this evening, I'm too full to think straight. Typing hard it is. Too hard for to continue me.

Wait. Let me get it together.

This friend (who we'll call Disney--name surely to be explained in a future post) cooked, baked, simmered and sifted every type of edible good I could think up to eat if asked quickly with a twenty-second window to respond. And I ate it. I ate it all. And now, hours later and hurting from the inside out, I have to ask myself: how did I get so full?

I blame the eggs. Next time, bld, I'm having the soup of the day. Those eggs were delicious, but there's just no need for so many. Another thing to skip: the chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Despite what the waitress will say, they're not that big, and they taste just like Nestle Tollhouse--probably because they are. So obviously, I learned something I already knew about myself that day: portion control is not my strength. Let's see if I have the motivation to run it off.

the restaurant: http://www.bldrestaurant.com/
(not up as of publish date, but has been claiming "coming soon" for the past two months)