The Don Delivers Great Breakfast to The Tyler

There's word around this city that some guy named Don has a pretty mean bacon 'n' eggs operation that he runs out of his place downtown.

I always thought of The Don as a hipster hub/yuppie depot, but after eating there, I realize that I was at least half wrong.  An eclectic mix of the old and rich, the old and poor, the young and poor, and the young and hipster congregated at the downtown restaurant on the promise of a delicious and affordable, and most importantly, all-day breakfast.

The Don truly is the cure to a hangover. Something about a Pancake House or a Smitty's or, God forbid, a Perkins, just doesn't seem to absorb booze and dispense dopamine quite like The Don is able to.

The Don has two entrances. This one was more attractive and had less
people in the windows gawking at me while I aimed my smartphone.

I sat down at a table for two, all by myself. But they pack 'em in pretty tight at The Don. As soon as I sat down, I realized that not more than half a foot from me was a table of four middle-aged women talking about some sensitive subject matter, or at least, I assumed it was by the way they all hushed each other when I sat down. After 15 agonizingly awkward seconds, I crawled through the escape hatch and made my way to another table for two on the other side of the dining room.

After catching my breath for a few seconds, and reassuring myself that I was a good guy, and that people like me, and that no, those four middle aged women hadn't been talking shit about me, I ordered a coffee and a water. I opened the menu and found what I was looking for. The Don's very own and totally original meal called the "Classic Breakfast."

Toast. Eggs. Bacon. Hashbrowns.  Ok.

The first thing that caught my attention about the meal was the time it took from me placing my order and awkwardly handing the waitress the menu, to the time I got my food. I would say it took a maximum of seven minutes. Maybe less. Usually, I'm ready and willing to bitch about not getting my food in a timely fashion even if they bring it to me in the timeliest fashion, but today was different. It was brought out so fast I didn't even have time to Instagram the cream swirling in my coffee. This cost me several precious internet points, but alas, just as Mick Jagger said 94 years ago, "You can't Instagram what you want." Or something like that. Who cares? The 'stones suck.

The meal was delivered hot, fresh, and lookin' tasty. It looked so good, that I ate half of it before it dawned on me that I needed a picture for this blog.

Toast never gets the spotlight... except on this blog!

The eggs are clearly labelled in the menu as "free run Omega 3" eggs. Not knowing what an Omega 3 is, I asked the waitress what this meant. I wanted to make sure that my eggs weren't being fried in some sort of energy drink. She told me that all the eggs served come from grain-fed free-range chickens. I have to say, the eggs tasted delicious, even without the oppression. It feels good to know that the chicken who laid this egg isn't locked up in some rural-Manitoba concenchicken camp. The chicken that laid this egg is running free and wild, pecking at grains of wheat and corn, and not forced to ingest a gelatinous paste composed of what the waitress put as, "it's brothers and sisters." I learned a lot this breakfast.

Another thing I learned is how great bacon tastes. Bacon's good. I'm surprised it's not more popular than it is, especially on the internet. This bacon was delicious. The grease that had pooled in one of the curls of a bacon slice was still sizzling when I got it. The Don makes things fresh, that much should be clear.

The hashbrowns were also really good. Not even close to as good as the hashbrowns you can find at the Osborne Village Cafe, but still pretty good. I think they usually serve shredded hashbrowns, but the shredded pieces all coagulate into what turns out to be a giant hashbrown patty. No complaints here though. One thing I love about The Don is that they give you an option to add fried onions, banana peppers, or even cornbeef to your hashbrowns. It's an extra charge of course, but whatever... anyway, this paragraph on hashbrowns has gone on way too long. I'd say sorry, but you're probably not even reading at this point anyway, so fuck you.

At the end of the day, The Don didn't disappoint. The breakfast was good, the service was fast, and at 11 dollars, the price was reasonable. Prepare yourself to eavesdrop and to be eavesdropped upon, because seating is tight. It's not as tight as say, a chicken that isn't free-run Omega 3, but it's still a little tighter than most places. But in the words of every real estate agent ever, "It's not cramped. It's cozy."

So the next time you're hungover and having nightmares about drowning inside Jim Beam's bile, go see my boy Don. He'll hook you up with some greasy good times that'll take your mind off the pain. Albeit, temporarily.