Sad to reveal, but most mornings I plunge a paw into a box of Kashi High Fiber just to fish out sad handfuls of what I hope will dislodge the previous night's caloric journey to constipation. My bowels are like Siamese cats: obstinate, irritable, but also prone to run unpredictably. I rarely venture to the many sausage joints nearby. But as fate would have it, a need for Downy, scented candles (sandalwood) and Twizzlers (it's like a sickness with me) prompted me out of the duplex early last weekend. Cruising home, I noticed Stone Soup Kitchen, a quaint eatery with a name that piqued my tummy. I parked the Miata and decided to give a gander. There's a counter inside with an wide array of soups and drinks. I shimmied into a tiny booth with the finesse of a water balloon being pushed through a banister. What a sight, I was! The waiter, patient and lumberjack-ish, recommended a few items. He need only place himself on the menu and I'd never suffer through another Kashi sunrise again! Careful deliberation led to a breakfast sandwich consisting on gently scrambled eggs, cheese, Canadian bacon on a honey wheat English muffin. So, yes, I pretty much ordered an Egg McMuffin, the difference being that at Stone Soup I wasn't also funding an evil clown and his menagerie of burger obsessed misfits. People, that sandwich was a MARVEL! You'd never think that a mere egg concoction could achieve nirvana. No diminishing returns, each bite trumped the last. Tears of butter and cheese cascaded down my chin and pooled triumphantly upon my windbreaker. I also got a side order of Red Mule grits. The name comes from the use of actual (not mechanized) mules who churn the yellow goodness into submission. I know there are those who don't like the exploitation of animals, but I say KEEP THOSE ASSES AT WORK! Consider yourself warned: brawny hunks and dopey animals are conspiring in Grant Park, bowels be damned! See you there!
Pros: Flavor! Flavor! Mules!
Cons: Tight fit for the hefty set.
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