The Unvegan

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Home is Where the Slop is

Sure, I’ll eat your commie pancakes.

Over in the land of Silver Lake on LA’s east side, my sister, girlfriend and family friend converged upon a restaurant called Home. The place looked nothing like my home and the menu items barely had some items I’ve ever seen at home, so I assumed the name was derived from some sort of Silver Lake hipster irony. We sat outside on a relatively cold Saturday for LA and I watched as the workers fumbled helplessly to try to keep the heat lamps lit while the women tried desperately to keep warm. It was unintentionally entertaining, to say the least, and I hoped the food would at least be half as good as said entertainment.

Looking at their specials, one thing stood out to all of us: red velvet pancakes. But it would have been silly for all of us to order our own set, so we decided to order them as a bit of a brunch appetizer. A brunchetizer, if you will. These things came out covered in a thick cream sauce almost like condensed milk, but not as sweet or sticky. Stacked three pancakes high, they were light and fluffy and everything you could want from a normal pancake, but with the added benefit of being made of red velvety goodness.

After eating my fill of the pancakes, I moved on to my main course (because only fools don’t eat multi-course brunches). I had ordered the “World Famous” Sloppy Joe even though the waiter had assured me it wasn’t truly world famous. Instead, he said it was just famous locally. He was quite the literal man, but despite being stripped of its title, I was still excited for the mildly famous sloppy joe. It had come with a choice of many sides, and I had gone with the waffle fries.

Just let that slop flow. You can’t fight it.

World famous, or not, I found Home’s sloppy joe to be damn good. Bursting with flavor, meat and slop, it reminded me of the Manwich of my youth rather than a depressing cafeteria food. The ground beef was tender and chunky, and without fail every time I took a bite an equal amount of slop went into my mouth and onto the plate. The insides had been padded with a soft, yet hearty bun, which kept the sloppy joe intact and refused to get soggy. Unfortunately, the rare bit of onion slipped into the joe, which was the only source of disappointment. These rare bits provided no flavor and were wholly unnecessary, but did not detract from the overall enjoyment of this great sandwich.

Waffle: the king of fries.

And then there were the fries. Honestly, I don’t understand why more places don’t serve waffle fries. After eating them at Home, I was reminded that waffle fries are just incredible. I’m hesitant to say they are the best fries in the world, but an average waffle fry kicks the ass off of a really good skinny fry any day. Even better, these waffle fries were the perfect conduit with which to scoop up the scraps that my sloppy joe left behind.

While not exactly reminiscent of my home, Home in Silver Lake certainly delivered. From pancakes to sloppy joes to waffle fries, everything I ate surprised me with flavor. Aside from my issues with onions and a feeling that they were short at least one waitstaff (presumably the one who knew how to turn on the heaters), the food from Home found a very welcoming home in my belly.