Nothing worth knowing about happens before noon; and if it does, someone will tell you about it. Thus, I carefully arrange my schedule to begin the awakening process around 11 in the morning. On the rare occasions I cannot avoid an early appointment, I follow a strict routine I recommend to all who wish to enter the day gently. The routine begins as my wife brings me a glass of fresh squeezed seasonal fruit juice while I am still in bed. As I shower, she fluffs my towel in the dryer (there is nothing worse than a cold towel) and irons my shirt so it, too, will be warm and fresh when I dress.
Because of my egalitarian nature, my belief that gender roles are repressive, and because I want it done right, I cook my own breakfast. My wife cleans the kitchen while I read the morning paper, and I feel, at last, sufficient to face natural light.
I present this brief background to let you know, faithful readers, that once again I risked a great deal to go before you into uncharted menus. Without regard to morning traffic and sunlight, I faced the harsh realities of the day to review breakfast in Jackson.
Broad Street (I-55 North at Northside, 362-2900) in Banner Hall, an extremely popular breakfast spot, provides my first adventure on the tour. Broad Street appeals to an eclectic group of students, businesspeople and folks just hanging out, although a large contingent of the Volvo/laptop crowd is usually present.
A selection of breads, muffins, and pastries adequate to satisfy any taste are available as well as eggs, bacon, sausage, oatmeal and fruit. Warm scrambled eggs, crisp but not burned bacon, and honey whole-wheat toast contribute to a pleasing experience. The coffee is Louisiana's own Community, and I cannot drink a cup without becoming homesick.
Due to its popularity, Broad Street can be very busy. The size of the crowd makes it difficult for the servers to find the right table, and your eggs may cool off somewhat. Always write your number on the dry-erase board if dining upstairs and help the wait staff serve you in a timely manner.
Primos (2323 Lakeland Drive, 936-3701) is another popular Jackson-area breakfast venue. With an extensive menu, the atmosphere is bright and airy, and the seating area is more concentrated, making you easier to find and, thus, keeping your eggs warm. An excellent benchmark for evaluation of breakfast, scrambled eggs are hard to cook correctly, too often overcooked on a hot grill and/or too greasy. A restaurant with good scrambled eggs excels in other breakfast areas. Primos was up to the challenge with a generous portion of eggs and bacon.
Bakery items are also available at Primos. The toast is adequate, but nothing out of the ordinary. Large, soft biscuits with plenty of butter and jelly round out a superb breakfast experience.
When one speaks of biscuits, however, one must acknowledge the ultimate Jackson biscuit—the biscuit served at Mikhail's (4330 North State St., 982-3838, the former site of Primos). Feathery, buttery, and baked to perfection and created by Mr. Frank, (formerly of Frank's Biscuits, and his name isn't really Frank) Mikhail's biscuits draw a large, devoted following. The scrambled eggs easily passed the test, and I enjoyed the coffee. Mikhail's serves breakfast until 3 in the afternoon. Thus, one has the opportunity to sleep until noon and still enjoy a great biscuit. That's important.
Recently, an unreasonable doctor insisted I go in for an early appointment. To add insult to injury, I was to fast after midnight. Afterward, delirious and confused, I accidentally pulled my car into a McDonald's (everywhere). Bear with me readers. I assure you the pain of this confession weighs heavier on me, but we'll all feel better once it's out. Unfamiliar with the menu, a member of the wait staff suggested I try the McGriddle.
Soaked in maple syrup, the bread for a McGriddle resembles a cross between an English muffin and a hotcake. Any combination of eggs, sausage, bacon, and cheese may be used to form a sandwich. It is (I can't believe I'm going this far) good—very good. I suggest you try it, but use the drive-through window—that way no one will recognize you.
Anonymous rogue Andrew Scott writes about food for the Jackson Free Press.
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