All words: Riley Croghan
All photos: Stephanie Breijo
Before anyone accuses me for being too, ahem, hip, for devoting an entire article to brunch*, geek out with me for a moment, will you? We’ll get to Station 4’s brunch (Saturday and Sunday 10 am to 3 pm, kids!) in just a minute.
It’s occurred to me that maybe it’s about time that we update Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Once you have the basic needs covered (food, shelter, clothing) and move all the way up to self-actualization [morality(?), creativity, knowing not to wear white after Labor Day] what is left to attain? My answer is: brunch, probably. It’s a meal that combines day drinking, breakfast meats and many friends into one thing that is not a horrible drunk-friend cannibal death omelette. BYT sent me to check out the brunch at Station 4, in that one block of the SW waterfront that is actually kinda nice, for what wound up being my fifth brunch of the month. No regrets.
Except for the hangover, that is, that I had from recovering from BYT/Chef Spike’s best night ever**. Station 4 has some pretty trendy décor (chandeliers! Astroturf on the bathroom walls!) some of which were less than ideal for a hangover (Lots of mirrors! Giant, full glass windows pouring out sunlight!). The brunch menu itself plays it a little safer than some other restaurants, and features pretty much all the regulars you would expect, which is actually a bit of a relief. Pancakes with maple syrup, steak and eggs, and biscuits and gravy are all available staples. There are also slabs of toasted bagels, English muffins and toast with whipped butter to nosh on while you wait, which is a nice touch. We had a chance to sample some ham ossobucco (the chef insists this is not an oxymoron, and that it is a cut of any meat, not a cut of veal. Wikipedia disagrees, but it was a bit too delicious for me to care). It’s not on the menu yet, but may make an appearance soon.
Stephanie ordered the huevos rancheros, with veggie refried beans and avocado. It was a great savory dish. The menu claimed it was served over crispy tortillas, which were made a bit softer (okay, goopier) by the time they reached the table, but they went well with the dish nevertheless. Our pal Lindley, an events planner who appears at BYT events on the reg, probably won the brunch by ordering the Mardi Gras omelette. The eggs are stuffed with smoked Andouille sausage, red peppers, crawfish and scallions. You can get away with stuffing a lot of various foods in an omelette and having it come out pretty well, but this resulted in an especially savory dish.
I ordered a salmon benedict for myself. Its probably my fault for not reading the menu closer, but I was expecting something a little more… benedicty. Maybe a traditional eggs benedict (English muffin and hollandaise, natch) with some salmon on top. What I got was a bagel and lox that had a soft boiled egg on top. Which was fine, I like lox very much, but it was not quite what was anticipated.
All in all, the SW waterfront is a (notoriously) small slice of the D.C. pie, but if you find yourself waking up there one day, still kinda drunk and blinking against the Sunday morning sun, my official recommendation is that you could do worse than popping in and giving Station 4 brunch a try.
Station 4 brunch is $25 per person with bottomless mimosas and one entre, with a live jazz band on the first and last Sunday of each month. Except for the day we were there (?).
Now back to your regularly scheduled food porn:
*”Portlandia did it” is the new “Simpsons did it”
**Pardon me while I pick up that name I just dropped