Fourteenth Street's Busboys and Poets continue to be a go-to destination to get out of the Polar Vortex. Mom and Dad cling to the fact they can for a fleeting moment sip cappuccinos amongst DC hipsters, and I can bang the spoon pretty loudly before anyone notices. As my appetite increases, so does our brunch tab. To minimize budget-busting, I usually bring something from home (e.g. clementines, cheese stick) and then Mom orders a side of fruit and Dad a side of the cheesy grits. The Oaxaca omelette, french toast, scrambled eggs and tempeh sausage continue to be a parent favorite. And when the grits arrive, I go all in and can't think of any other way to express my delight:
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Busboys and Poets.
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