BIG STINK

I’ve recently moved to Miami,Florida from Brooklyn, New York. Wow, what a difference. There is no place like home: Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, U.S.A. I’m starting to wonder if the trade off on warm weather is worth the abandonment good eat’s. One of my biggest problems as a Brooklyn Boy traveling through this land of opportunity is the lack of opportunity for a good old fashion Turkey Burgers with cheese or REAL Belgian waffles for breakfast.

I now spend my days in search of the type of down home New York cuisine I use to get at Mike’s Coffee Shop, in Brooklyn, or better yet Cosi on Broadway in the village... ‘good times, good times.’  Oh sorry, I was having a flash back. Where was I? Oh yes...finding good food. As I said, I am now forced to rome the streets of Miami like a one-eyed dog, haunting diner after diner in search of a good Turkey Burger and a real Belgian waffle.

Yeah, I know I can make it myself, but that’s not the point!

A man has the right to go to any state in this country and get a good meal, damn it! Honestly, after what I’ve been dealing with over the past few months, I would be just be happy with an acceptable meal at this point.

You mean to tell me nobody in the state of Florida knows how to make a decent freakin’ Belgian waffle? I decided to call out an APB (all point bulletin) for my waffles and after an extensive web search, I thought I came across something that might make this Brooklyn Boy smile.

WRONG! 
I had the misfortune of being led to the Big Pink, (a 24 hour hot spot that’s supposed to be the best diner on South Beach). What a waste of time and money. They had the nerve to charge me 8 American dollars for that bull#%^&%! As my friend, comedian Rob Stapleton would exclaim, “8 DOLLARS!”

Peep how it went down:

I sat there tolerating the half-assed service, patiently waiting for what I hoped would be the answer to my prayers. My mouth dripping with anticipation, taste buds standing at attention, my belly eager to experience the taste of home sweet home. Then, I saw it. As it traveled over to my table with its sad rounded edges, I knew, I was in trouble.

The young man, who clearly saw himself more of a model waiting table "for laughs,” than an actual employee, plopped the ( sigh) plate in front of me.

Instantly, I admired the cook’s skillful attempt to give the synthetic eggs that soft scrambled look, while the stiff dried out turkey bacon laid across them as if rigamortis had set in.

With great difficulty, I cut into the alleged waffle and lifted the heavy section to my mouth. All the while, I’m thinkin’, ‘Waffles shouldn’t be this greasy or this thick.’ I gave it another try - this time I drowned it with syrup, which only made it heavier and sweeter. In a last ditch effort, I reasoned, ‘if I mix these eggs and this cardboard-like Turkey bacon with it, it may not be so bad.’

Although I was grateful that the waiter was “generous” enough to remember he was at his day gig and not on a photo shoot decided to come check on me, not even the warm apple juice he bought me 10 minutes later was able to helped.

Finally, I had to lay down my weapons and admited defeat. I slumped away from the Big Pink feeling like a big sucker, leaving a half eaten $8 waffle, $4 eggs and bacon plus tax (and 15% included tip) on the table. I just paid $15 for warm apple juice and a stomach ache.

I can safely say that Big Pink is NOT the place to go if you want a real Belgian waffle. I don’t even want to know about their Turkey Burgers...

Never again will I exchange my hard earned bread for the Big Pink’s bull#%^&% level of service.

If I wanted a 2- inch thick dried out pancake masquerading as a waffle, I would have gone to IHOP.