Best Breakfast Ever

I just had The Best Breakfast Ever! It was epic. Magnificent. Perfect.

I was on my way out of Evanston Wyoming when I decided that I hadn't had a suitable meal after backpacking (and starving) back in the Cirque. About 5 miles down I-70, I turned the car around and barreled back to Evanston to find the perfect place for breakfast.

When I say that I wanted the perfect place to eat breakfast, I really don't mean that I set out to find perfection in breakfast form. It's just a figure of speech. However, this time, I actually found it. And less than 100 yards from the motel I stayed at the previous night.

It was perfect.

Pulling into the parking lot I first noticed that pickup trucks outnumbered regular cars 3 to 1. There were 4 smokers on the front porch and the ashtray was full of butts. A car full of army grunts were loitering around the parking lot and a lady was attempting to squeeze/waddle through the front door. She was literally having trouble fitting through the door.

These are all good signs for someone who wants to feel full. I had obviously arrived at a place where people really don't give a shit about eating a bit more than a healthy amount of grease.

I looked over the menu and was amazed. Everything was loaded with carbs, grease and protein. If I remember correctly, all meals off the kids menu were delivered a Remmington bolt action rifle and 5 live rounds on the side. After much deliberation I ordered a Denver Omlette. The waitress seemed a bit taken aback by this since it was the only thing on the menu that had any trace of green in it (green peppers). I believe they put that item on the menu to see who's not from round these parts.

I thought I was really pegging myself for an out-of-towner when, instead of a muffin, I chose a scone as my side order.

Scone's are defined by wikipedia as:

"a British snack of Scottish origin. A small quickbread made of wheat, barley or oatmeal, usually with baking powder as a leavening agent. British scones are often lightly sweetened, but may also be savoury. In the U.S., scones are drier, larger and typically sweet."

Heh. Not in these parts sissy boy.

When my meal finally made it to my table I was amazed. I had the largest, greasiest omlette I've ever seen. It sat in a puddle of fat with sausage and bacon on the side, and then, on it's own plate, the scone: A 6 inch disc of fried dough, with no less than 3 tablespoons of solid butter floating in a pond of melted butter on the top. By its shape, I could tell the butter had been scooped out of a tub with a spatula. It comes with 4 containers of honey on the side. I drenched it in sweetness.

In Wyoming, a scone is a funnel cake type doughnut drowning in butter and honey. It's ridiculously decadent and bad for you beyond a doubt. But is it any good?

Oh hell yes!

I worked through my meal, taking a break in the middle to go outside and catch a breather. One of the men outside pegged me.

"You're not from round here are you? Where you travlin' to?"

Humm, I knew it. The veggies in my Denver omelette had blown my cover. "I'm heading into Utah." I answered. Scenes from Easy Rider flashed through my head.

The man smiled big with a Marlboro hanging out of the side of his mouth. "Well let me tell you about my favorite drive to get there."

The guy was awesome. He proceeded to tell me in great detail all about his most favorite drives into Utah. Traveling into Utah via the Flaming Gorge dam was recommended. He urged me to get out my road atlas. We plotted the drive together. I heard, once again, what I've heard over and over again on this trip, "I'm really jealous. Wish I could come with you."

After 10 minutes of passing the atlas back and forth, swapping road trip stories and directions I made my way back inside the restaurant, my day and drive transformed. Round 2 of breakfast was just as amazing as the first half. I finished everything on the plate, paid the check and rolled out of town on my new route. He hadn't lied to me. It was a spectacular day of driving.