Such a rough-and-tumble name for a breakfast’s that’s pure comfort food.
The place I meant to go was closed, so I was driving through Lackawanna looking for lunch. In Buffalo’s, er, economically challenged sister city, I wasn’t exactly expecting to find a killer salad bar.
Still, the sign made me hit the brakes.
“So, that’s a little omelette, filled with lard?” I asked my friend Doug, as my car idled in the middle of South Park Avenue. “I mean, I’ve heard of cured lard on pizza, an Italian thing, but an omelette?”
Doug rolled his eyes, but he knew what he was getting into, climbing into my car at lunchtime. We pulled over and walked into Daisies Cafe (2711 South Park Ave., 826-3410).
Seated, I asked the server, “So what’s in a lard omelette? Besides lard.”
She explained that I had missed the sophisticated rebus-like subtext of the sign (below).
The dish Daisies had to offer was, in fact, a Lard Ass Omelette ($5.25). “It’s basically got all of the breakfast meats in one,” she explained. Bacon, sausage, and ham, with American cheese and sauted onions, inside of a plush three-egg quilt.
I considered the dietary sin I was about to commit. Then I looked out the window at the Our Lady of Victory Basilica soaring into the sky. Across the street, a health care facility.
I could get an angioplasty, Confession, and Last Rites within staggering distance.
“That sounds good,” I told the waitress. “Rye toast, please.”
Doug’s open-face chicken souvlaki ($6.50) was a ridiculous pile of lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and feta cheese, topped with an ample amount of well seasoned, moist chicken tenders. The pita half-moon was grilled until crusty.
The omelette was a guilty pleasure, Porkapalooza on a plate. But it wasn’t so huge that my parents’ lectures about the starving children in Africa came to mind.
Daisies’ cheery owners, John Ryan and Alana Sibiga (above), said they were about to move into their new place, a couple of doors down from the corner of South Park Avenue and Ridge Road. Still close enough to the Basilica to try to avoid a venial sin in advertising.
“That was good,” I said to Doug as we left. “And quick. We still have time to get some Texas hots on the way back.”