February 28, 2008
By: Brian Freedman
bfreedman@aroundphilly.com
The sex appeal of brunch is rooted in its distinct lack of pretense. It is a workhorse meal, often taken at a time of day when no one is really at his or her best. Look around the next time you find yourself at a late-morning meal. You’ll see bleary-eyed souls whose faces seem to have lost their focus somewhere around drink number five the night before, awkward morning-after couples struggling to come up with something to say to one another, and people desperately downing mug after mug of coffee in an effort to jumpstart their day, no matter the time.
That’s why I’ve always felt that the best brunches are the most straightforward. Sure, treating yourself to the breakfast-time bacchanal at the Four Seasons is a treat, but most of us--myself included--would much rather stick to the basics the majority of the time.
Hence the popularity of
Sabrina’s: It is reliable, unpretentious, and always hits the mark. Its South Philly location, in fact, has become an institution for the downtown crowd; a must-visit destination whose cramped quarters and always ridiculous wait are just as much a part of its charm as the breakfast burritos and the occasional sticky spots on the tables.
But what of its Fairmount outpost? You rarely hear much about it, and though the general consensus was that it had potential when it first opened last year, it seems to have fallen off the out-of-the-neighborhood radar.
What struck me first was how perfectly this comfortable restaurant fit in with the neighborhood, yet still maintained that essential Sabrina-ness that is so fundamental to the enterprise’s appeal. So if the South Philly spot is all about the unpretentiously intellectual, occasionally boho-chic indie-kid, student and literary crowd, this location caters more to the young grown-up set of the neighborhood.
As for the food, it’s very little different from what its fans already know and love. And whether you’re talking about breakfast or lunch-type dishes, the result is generally the same: solid food that, while not paradigm-shifting in any way, serves its purpose with gusto.
The barking chihuahua, perhaps Philadelphia’s most famous breakfast burrito (or maybe its only famous breakfast burrito), is, as always, vaguely frightening in its sheer mass. Back when I was in college, there was a burrito shop whose tagline was “Burritos as big as your head.” Dramatic as they were, though, they had nothing on Sabrina’s, which are stuffed to the point of bursting with black beans, pepper jack cheese, scrambled eggs, red peppers, and partridges in pear trees. The igloo-sized dollop of sour cream and the side of less-spicy-than-advertised tomato sauce round it all out and render the preparation both totally unsurprising and thoroughly well-considered, which is exactly what you want from a breakfast burrito.
Scrambled tofu “eggs,” though admittedly a touch frightening with their turmeric-yellow glow, were nonetheless adequate substitutes for the real deal. Of course they tasted nothing like eggs--the similarity was pretty much limited to nomenclature and, to a far lesser extent, appearance--but considered on their own terms and spruced up with mushrooms and red peppers, they worked just fine, and certainly didn’t send icy chills from my taste buds down to the depths of my soul like so many other vegan dishes in town.
On the lunchier side of things is Sabrina’s excellent version of a turkey club, the so-called Cali Turkey Sandwich, an assembly whose West Coast inspiration is understood most clearly by the addition of avocado and sprouts to an already well-considered sandwich. I’d imagine that the bacon and roasted red-pepper mayo cancel out any health benefits that might have been gleaned from the veggies and the lightly toasted multi-grain, but at that time of day, you likely have more pressing things to worry about.
If replacing fluids is in order, you might want to steer clear of the chicken noodle soup, which was salty enough to possibly dehydrate rather than replenish. But the chicken salad crowned with a cap of melted Swiss cheese used its saltiness much more judiciously. It was a straightforward version of the standard, and supremely comforting in its simplicity.
That, essentially, is the role that Sabrina’s has carved out for itself and the role it plays so well. And though the food isn’t going to change your early-morning life--go to
Honey’s for that--it will start off your day right. Sex appeal is important, of course, but not before a solid bite to eat and a decent cup of coffee.
Visit Sabrina's Cafe & Spencer's Too
