THE EGG FACTORY RISE & SHINE DAYTIME CAFE
Strip mall eateries suffer from the initial pause potential patrons may have at walking under a neon sign in search of food. And though The Egg Factory's exterior isn't exactly homey, if diners can get past it - and the 30-minute-plus weekend wait - they'll discover a menu as full as the people-packed vestibule on a Saturday morning.
Myriad egg, potato, waffle, pancake, burger, sandwich and salad options share menu bunk space, but breakfast gets the biggest room in the house. Traditional eggs Benny ($7.99) is joined by fancier siblings on the menu accessorized with Philly steak, bell peppers and mushrooms on a croissant ($8.99); bacon, Monterrey Jack cheese and avocado ($8.79); or tomato, fresh sauteed spinach, avocado and mushrooms ($7.99). But all stay true to the family name by dressing in real, if slightly under-salted, Hollandaise sauce. The traditional Benny's perfectly poached eggs gently oozed sun-colored yoke that mixed with the light sauce, softening crispy muffins and tender meat beneath. So many Canadian bacon slices dressed the dish that we committed the ultimate breakfast sin and left some on the plate.
Eggs were disappointingly cool on one plate, but forgiven after a count of more than 40 hungry heads filling the restaurant (and still more waiting) and server Judi's friendly downhome demeanor. Once smooshed on warm toast and topped with a slice of beautifully crispy bacon and a forkful of hashbrowns ($7.99), the eggs soaked up some of the other items' warmth. A buttermilk drop biscuit ($3.99) was covered in a peppery - but not quite salty enough - white gravy laden with huge chunks of sausage in a serving big enough for everyone in our party to have a satisfying forkful.
One of the weekly specials was The Egg Factory's version of a Monte Cristo ($7.99): French toast smothered in ham and melted Swiss cheese dusted with powdered sugar and sided by two eggs and choice of potatoes. A request to omit the powdered sugar caused Judi to raise an eyebrow - "But it's so delicious" - before happily obliging. An unidentifiable too-sweetness permeated the dish and after searching for a hidden pile of powdered sugar, Judi explained that The Egg Factory's French toast is dipped in a batter made with vanilla custard. Brilliant. "Factory Potatoes" are diced, lightly seasoned and fried to a rich, crispy brown, the hesitation marks on the cubes signifying home-cut spuds. A quick slide of the ham and cheese over to top the potatoes afforded separate but equally mouthwatering savory bites and sweet ones.
There's a lot riding on a restaurant with a specific food item in its name. For a place called The Egg Factory, expectations are that the eponymous product will take center stage. The Egg Factory has earned its name.
- Amy Atkins likes to break breakfast rules.
Let's start with the worst of The Egg Factory: the location. Yes, it's in an aging strip mall in a congested part of town and without a solid recommendation from a friend, you might neither notice it, nor be tempted to check it out. But it seems as though healthy word-of-mouth advertising is trumping the old location, location, location maxim. So much so, in fact, that my recent visit was the first in which I was seated without some sort of initial wait. So if it's not what's on the outside that counts when it comes to The Egg Factory, then it must be what's on the inside.
Inside, though, Egg Factory isn't much of a looker. Two rooms join awkwardly to form the dining room. The decor isn't in any way memorable and the whole place has a sort of impermanent air about it. To even-� tually secure a table, one must "sign in" . on a spiral notebook^ Despite all that, the place possesses a certain inviting familiarity. Thanks in that department is due, in part, to the waitstaff, all of whom have a penchant for cooing over guests with hot pots of coffee and the occasional "babe" or "hon" or "sweets."
The menu should also take some credit. The sheer volume of the options means diners with a morning sweet tooth can sit in happy harmony with their salty meat-loving companions, and there's so much to choose from one visit simply will not satisfy curiosity. More importantly the menu is full of stuff you'd perhaps only give a go in your own kitchen - like Key lime pancakes or oatmeal pancakes ($3.79/$4.79), with oats, raisins, walnuts and cinnamon folded into the batter. The latter were not only an indulgent hit but also conveyed a confidence to diners that said, "Hey, we're going to do something we only share with family, but we trust that you'll be open minded. And p.s. we make our own syrup." Other hits were the homemade cinnamon rolls, super-sized coils of chewy dough that easily host ladles of thin white icing, and crispy hashbrowns loaded with a web of melted cheddar, salty bits of bacon and ribbons of sour cream. Soft, fluffy biscuits properly smothered in sausage country gravy were also a mark in the hits column, as were choose-your-own-adventure omelets, which were gigantically portioned. The misses, though, equally match the hits. A hand-breaded chicken fried steak ($8.99) usurped the previous title holder of "worst chicken fried steak ever" without much competition. The Hollandaise was a bland, opaque and gelatinous substance more like a glaze than the velvety, lush sauce it should be, relegating a California Benedict ($8.79) to the "misses" list. From the lunch menu, a grilled ham, cheese and bacon sandwich called the Electric Pig ($7.59) was too well-named to resist but proved to be more of a minor shock than truly electric. So what's the draw? I haven't quite figured it out as a reviewer, but as a diner, it's one of my regular no-frills stops.
- Rachael Daigle beggs to eggsperience an eggcellent meal.
THE EGG FACTORY RISE & SHINE DAYTIME CAFE
8061 W. Fairview Ave.
208-322-0191
eggfactorycafe.com
Open seven days a week, 6:30 a.m.-3 p.m.
THE EGG FACTORY RISE & SHINE DAYTIME CAFETHE EGG FACTORY RISE & SHINE DAYTIME CAFE
Strip mall eateries suffer from the initial pause potential patrons may have at walking under a neon sign in search of food. And though The Egg Factory's exterior isn't exactly homey, if diners can get past it - and the 30-minute-plus weekend wait - they'll discover a menu as full as the people-packed vestibule on a Saturday morning.
Myriad egg, potato, waffle, pancake, burger, sandwich and salad options share menu bunk space, but breakfast gets the biggest room in the house. Traditional eggs Benny ($7.99) is joined by fancier siblings on the menu accessorized with Philly steak, bell peppers and mushrooms on a croissant ($8.99); bacon, Monterrey Jack cheese and avocado ($8.79); or tomato, fresh sauteed spinach, avocado and mushrooms ($7.99). But all stay true to the family name by dressing in real, if slightly under-salted, Hollandaise sauce. The traditional Benny's perfectly poached eggs gently oozed sun-colored yoke that mixed with the light sauce, softening crispy muffins and tender meat beneath. So many Canadian bacon slices dressed the dish that we committed the ultimate breakfast sin and left some on the plate.
Eggs were disappointingly cool on one plate, but forgiven after a count of more than 40 hungry heads filling the restaurant (and still more waiting) and server Judi's friendly downhome demeanor. Once smooshed on warm toast and topped with a slice of beautifully crispy bacon and a forkful of hashbrowns ($7.99), the eggs soaked up some of the other items' warmth. A buttermilk drop biscuit ($3.99) was covered in a peppery - but not quite salty enough - white gravy laden with huge chunks of sausage in a serving big enough for everyone in our party to have a satisfying forkful.
One of the weekly specials was The Egg Factory's version of a Monte Cristo ($7.99): French toast smothered in ham and melted Swiss cheese dusted with powdered sugar and sided by two eggs and choice of potatoes. A request to omit the powdered sugar caused Judi to raise an eyebrow - "But it's so delicious" - before happily obliging. An unidentifiable too-sweetness permeated the dish and after searching for a hidden pile of powdered sugar, Judi explained that The Egg Factory's French toast is dipped in a batter made with vanilla custard. Brilliant. "Factory Potatoes" are diced, lightly seasoned and fried to a rich, crispy brown, the hesitation marks on the cubes signifying home-cut spuds. A quick slide of the ham and cheese over to top the potatoes afforded separate but equally mouthwatering savory bites and sweet ones.
There's a lot riding on a restaurant with a specific food item in its name. For a place called The Egg Factory, expectations are that the eponymous product will take center stage. The Egg Factory has earned its name.
- Amy Atkins likes to break breakfast rules.
Let's start with the worst of The Egg Factory: the location. Yes, it's in an aging strip mall in a congested part of town and without a solid recommendation from a friend, you might neither notice it, nor be tempted to check it out. But it seems as though healthy word-of-mouth advertising is trumping the old location, location, location maxim. So much so, in fact, that my recent visit was the first in which I was seated without some sort of initial wait. So if it's not what's on the outside that counts when it comes to The Egg Factory, then it must be what's on the inside.
Inside, though, Egg Factory isn't much of a looker. Two rooms join awkwardly to form the dining room. The decor isn't in any way memorable and the whole place has a sort of impermanent air about it. To even-� tually secure a table, one must "sign in" . on a spiral notebook^ Despite all that, the place possesses a certain inviting familiarity. Thanks in that department is due, in part, to the waitstaff, all of whom have a penchant for cooing over guests with hot pots of coffee and the occasional "babe" or "hon" or "sweets."
The menu should also take some credit. The sheer volume of the options means diners with a morning sweet tooth can sit in happy harmony with their salty meat-loving companions, and there's so much to choose from one visit simply will not satisfy curiosity. More importantly the menu is full of stuff you'd perhaps only give a go in your own kitchen - like Key lime pancakes or oatmeal pancakes ($3.79/$4.79), with oats, raisins, walnuts and cinnamon folded into the batter. The latter were not only an indulgent hit but also conveyed a confidence to diners that said, "Hey, we're going to do something we only share with family, but we trust that you'll be open minded. And p.s. we make our own syrup." Other hits were the homemade cinnamon rolls, super-sized coils of chewy dough that easily host ladles of thin white icing, and crispy hashbrowns loaded with a web of melted cheddar, salty bits of bacon and ribbons of sour cream. Soft, fluffy biscuits properly smothered in sausage country gravy were also a mark in the hits column, as were choose-your-own-adventure omelets, which were gigantically portioned. The misses, though, equally match the hits. A hand-breaded chicken fried steak ($8.99) usurped the previous title holder of "worst chicken fried steak ever" without much competition. The Hollandaise was a bland, opaque and gelatinous substance more like a glaze than the velvety, lush sauce it should be, relegating a California Benedict ($8.79) to the "misses" list. From the lunch menu, a grilled ham, cheese and bacon sandwich called the Electric Pig ($7.59) was too well-named to resist but proved to be more of a minor shock than truly electric. So what's the draw? I haven't quite figured it out as a reviewer, but as a diner, it's one of my regular no-frills stops.
- Rachael Daigle beggs to eggsperience an eggcellent meal.
THE EGG FACTORY RISE & SHINE DAYTIME CAFE
8061 W. Fairview Ave.
208-322-0191
eggfactorycafe.com
Open seven days a week, 6:30 a.m.-3 p.m.
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