For a year or two now, my husband has been trying to get me to go out to breakfast with him at Frank’s Restaurant in Parkville, MO, not too far from our home. On Saturday, September 29, it finally happened.
Our breakfast date was possible because Al didn’t have to row that morning, which is his typical Saturday morning activity. But we still had to negotiate logistics. He insisted on undertaking another early morning workout, the better to enjoy his breakfast. And I had to be back for my Pilates class at 10:00am. Exercise fiend that he is, Al wouldn’t let me skip class.
We finally agreed that if Al were ready in time for us to be at Frank’s when it opened at 8:00am, we could do it. And so we did.
I rate all restaurant breakfasts by the quality of their French toast. Frank’s French toast was good, though not inspired. The best French toast I’ve ever had was at the Cottage Restaurant in Carmel, CA, where they make it with Italian fruit bread. But Frank’s was certainly acceptable – thick bread, lots of cinnamon and syrup, and a sprinkling of powdered sugar. And the bacon I had on the side was meaty, like bacon should be.
My husband judges breakfast by the oatmeal. Frank’s did not have oatmeal on the menu, so Al was required to step outside his comfort zone. Actually, Al’s comfort zone when it comes to food is pretty broad.
He ordered Sicilian Eggs Benedict – biscuits topped with Italian sausage, poached egg, sugo sauce, and Romano cheese, served with fried potatoes on the side. Al raved about it, so I guess he didn’t miss his oatmeal.
We were done in plenty of time to take a short walk along the Missouri River in English Landing Park before I had to get to Pilates. English Landing Park is just a couple of blocks from Frank’s.
The park floods whenever the Missouri River floods. In 2011, the park was closed for several months because of flooding.
But it was lovely this September morning. The early autumn air was cool, and the fog just lifting off the river.
Even the dredging barge looked romantic in the mist.
We took some pictures, then headed home.
But Pilates was definitely more challenging that morning with my stomach full of French toast.