One of the things I miss most about life on the East Coast, besides the ocean, the men (sorry, not sorry), the metro and the hop-skip-jump mentality of travel on the East Coast (Baltimore? $2. New York? $12. Boston? $30.) is the food. I’m talking jumbo slice pizza for four bucks, when a single slice is as big as a kite. I’m talking pupusas from the pupuseria on the street where no one speaks English and the owner of the place treats you like you're a long-lost relative. I’m talking 5 a.m. philly cheesesteaks during an impromptu road trip to the city of brotherly love. I really want to love Madison’s food like I love the East Coast.
One of the traditions from the East Coast that has a thriving presence in Madison is brunch. And frankly, I’ve been disappointed thus far. I went to this place near the Capitol that had the audacity to charge me $13 for a crab scrambler with only TWO, count them, TWO pieces of frozen crab (strike one), some greasy, burned potatoes that could make an Irish man weep with shame and a glass of orange juice that was $3 and holds the contents of a Soft Cup at best (if you do not know what a Soft Cup is, Google it, and thank me for the visual later). In short, I was pissed. This is the best Madison has to offer? For serious?
So I enlisted the help of some of my graduate friends who know Madison’s food life with the intimacy only long-term relationships bring. I’m talking leave-the-door-open-when-you-pee intimacy, share a toothbrush, pop-a-back-zit intimacy. If anyone were to know the good brunches here, they would know.
Also, I’m broke now. My wallet wails plaintively “Please Sir Can I have Some More” whenever I drop a fiver into its depths.
So my goal was to spend $5 for each trip. Of course, I went over this, but self-control is for suckers and those with salaries. I have neither, so I went all in and still got both meals for less than $10. Let’s get started.
We decided to check out East Madison first because one friend lives there and they have cafes of kind repute (see Yelp or Urbanspoon). The first one was Mermaid Cafe on Winnnebago street. This small, roomy cafe is just so freaking cute, a puppy out there lost its Youtube celebrity status and is now howling a song of days gone by. It’s warm, teal walls bring springtime to the ice age we are currently in. One wall is a chalkboard with pastel chalk waiting for some toddler or 21-year-old to draw sunshine and daisies on its noble walls. Plus, free wi-fi aka I’m moving in to study—save the booth in the corner for me.
But the food—mehhhhh. I ordered an egg sandwich called the Oh Mighty Isis, an egg sandwich with cheddar cheese, fresh tomato, some other vegetable and a coconut curry aioli sauce. Read that again. Coconut. Curry. Aioli. On a breakfast sandwich. Lovingly snuggled between a croissant. Let that marinate.
But despite all the sexiness in its title and description (who doesn’t like food named after a Kemetic goddess?) it just didn’t wow me. For $6 (cheapest thing on the menu that wasn’t in the pastry family) it was decent. It was warm, but the curry was bland and didn’t add anything to the sandwich. In Washington D.C., curry has personality. It tastes like the people who make it—curry from a Trinidadian household is so different than curry from a Jamaican household. This curry had no home; this curry tasted like Whole Foods. I am sure it’s good for me, but it’s decor still doesn’t justify the price tag. Overall, it’s decent and I’d study here, but I wasn’t blown away.
Next, was Sophia’s Bakery on East Johnson Street. When you walk in, it’s all mixed mugs and mirrors with wood frames and no breathing room. It feels like a southern granny’s kitchen; better yet, it feels like the kitchen I would have seen in “The Notebook” if I weren’t too busy gagging at the romance on the screen. It’s warm, it’s cozy and it’s so small I felt like I knew all the intimate parts of its clientele when I left. (The girl at table one is going to law school, her partner works from home.)
But the pancakes. I usually hate pancakes in the morning. Way too sweet and empty. But these chocolate chip pancakes with an orange topping—I wept with joy. I cheered when Noah and what’s-her-face got together. Then I went into sugar shock and ordered an egg with cheese for balance. It set me back about $8.50—more than what I wanted to pay, but the pancakes made me a believer in true love.
So it seems like there is hope for Madison’s brunch future after all. Between the two, I prefer Sophia’s but be ready to make some friends on a Sunday afternoon. (They are only open on weekends.) I enjoyed my meal and left feeling like a happy ending as I walked back into the freezing rain. That’s what food should make you feel like—like a partner reading to you, bringing you back to life from a dry, dark place in your mind.
Want to make Gethsemane into an avid believer in Madison's brunch scene? Send her restaurant recommendations at herron-coward@wisc.edu.
