She ate: A worthy breakfast pit stop

Posted
Last month, the boyfriend and I went up north. We rode our bicycles, we ate ice cream and salt water taffy and at a lighthouse on Old Mission Peninsula he proposed to me with his great-grandmother’s ring. Henceforth, he will now be known as “the fiancé.”

Since he’s going to be legally stuck with me eventually, the fiancé didn’t complain too much when I asked him to drive 25 miles for breakfast. That’s how far it is from our driveway in Lansing’s Moores Park neighborhood to the Sinclair Grill in Webberville.

I had already made a solo breakfast trip earlier in the week, en route to Ann Arbor. During that visit I was lawyered up, wearing a full suit and toting an iPad, and I stuck out like a sore thumb among the casual diners. Nevertheless, I ordered coffee ($1.49) and the breakfast pizza ($3.99), and while I waited for breakfast I surveyed my whereabouts.

The Sinclair Grill is a cozy little restaurant that is full of automobile memorabilia, complete with old-fashioned gas pumps out front. The tablecloths are red and white gingham, and there is an ice cream counter in the corner serving MSU Dairy Store ice cream. They also have a full bar. While all three of my visits were for breakfast and nobody was imbibing, presumably things can get raucous during the frequent motorcycle nights at the restaurant.

The waitress assured me that the coffee she brought me was fresh, and the film floating on top was a result of the filter. Maybe I should be more discerning, but it was early and I needed my usual pot of coffee, so down the hatch it went. Whatever the film was, it didn’t affect the taste and it didn’t show up the next time. My breakfast pizza was a grilled flour tortilla topped with scrambled eggs, crumbled breakfast sausage and shredded cheese. It was big, but light, and while I started to cut ladylike pieces of it with a knife and fork, I eventually abandoned that plan and dug in with my hands. I had never thought about making a pizza with a tortilla, especially for breakfast, but this is a dish that I will recreate in my own kitchen.

I must have successfully described my good feelings about the breakfast pizza to the fiancé, because he tried to order it the next time we went for breakfast. I put the kibosh on that and respectfully requested that he order something we hadn’t tried before. (I’ve heard that marriage is built on compromise, and I just want to give him the opportunity to develop that skill before we actually tie the knot.) He ordered a breakfast burrito ($4.59) with sausage, and I ordered a mushroom and Swiss cheese omelet ($6.49), which came with hash browns and toast.

His breakfast burrito was, in his words, “Totally normal.” In other words, it wasn’t anything to sue someone over, but it certainly wasn’t remarkable. He ate it and then started in on my hash browns, which had a nice crunch to them but were completely cool by the time the plates were delivered to our table. The mushrooms in my omelet were canned, but then again I don’t really expect anyone to be outside foraging for morels and selling the resulting omelet for six bucks. Then again, I would go to that restaurant every single day if that ever happened. We left that day feeling underwhelmed.

We returned a few days later in search of biscuits and gravy. Full disclosure: I conduct much of my life in search of biscuits and gravy. I appreciate the heck out of Southern food, y’all. The fiancé and I recently went to Asheville, N.C., and ate at a restaurant called Rhubarb. The Sunday supper menu that night was dishes all made with sorghum. If you ever go to Asheville, Rhubarb has my endorsement.

As do the biscuits and gravy at the Sinclair Grill. A half order was plenty for me, and I inhaled them and washed them down with seemingly endless cups of hot coffee. If that isn’t heaven in Webberville, what is? The fiancé had the Western omelet ($6.49), which was stuffed with diced ham, onion, green pepper, and cheddar cheese. He also had hash browns, and this time they were hot.

There is also an extensive lunch menu, and — if the photos on the Facebook page are any indication — much of the bread is homemade and much of the meat is locally sourced, both things that I can get behind. I’d warrant that the Sinclair Grill isn’t serving anything that Lansingites can’t find more locally, but if you’re traveling that I-96 corridor it’s a solid option.

Comments

No comments on this item Please log in to comment by clicking here




Connect with us