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At the end of the summer, during the dregs of August, nothing is better than meeting up with friends and enjoying good food in a city far, far away from New York. Well, we got as far as Philly and decided that was far enough! Time for Camp Lauren 2010!
One of the highlights of our trip this year was a little place called Carman’s Country Kitchen! (1301 S. 11th St) Here is a photo of the restaurant from the outside:
Carman’s is run by a woman named Carman. (duh) I imagine her to be a former southern belle, though I may be wrong. The menu has four or five items on it everyday. Each item has a recommended meat side, which is awesome! All the food is made by Carman. She also answers the phone. She has one sassy waiter helping her and that is it. You better call ahead and reserve a seat or you will wait a while. Did I mention that the place has boobs and peen everywhere? And THIS sign:
Here are some of the things around the restaurant:
Here is Carman serving food from her kitchen under what appears to be a portrait of younger Carman:
So we perused the menu for the day:
I decided on the challah french toast with nectarines and blackberries plus country sausage. Brenden got the broccoli and corn beef hash with ham, potatoes, eggs and a side of bacon. Let’s take a look at these dishes:
You gotta love a dish made with corned beef and ham that has a recommended bacon side. The hash was really good. I have never had broccoli in hash form and it was rather enjoyable. The ham was clovey and Beecy said it “tastes like the South” or something sentimental like that to him. He returned the favor by giving Carman’s the CPC Award. (Clean Plate Club)
Here’s my french toast. Homemade whipped cream is the best thing ever. Just wait til I post my recipe for lavender whipped cream. FOR REAL. Anyways, this breakfast was fucking sweet! And also, it was sweet. But not too sweet. The fruits were tender and juicy and the french toast was really spot on. Also, the sausage was so toothsome. It was the best sausage I have ever had. EVER.
One more thing, any restaurant that knows to place the mug that says THE BOSS at my seat at the bar, is totally fucking sweet. See?