Eating It Up: Phil D. and the Funky Brunch

Let's be honest here. I went to Sprout's Funky Brunch, not to dip my hip or glide my stride, but to see what soul food goodies might be on the menu and listen to Phil D. spinning late '60s and '70s funk.

After the last themed brunch at Sprout, a British Invasion one I'd raved about here, there was no way I was going to miss their take on funky jams and food.

Dressed in my best 70s funk look, I arrived at Sprout to find it being painted a lovely shade of blue in the afternoon sunshine. Inside, the music was fine, the tables filling up and the bar empty. I sat down, pulled out my Post and was greeted with, "Would you like a drink?"

Nope, I was here for food and the menu offered some soulfully appetizing options, but I was blind to anything but the country-fried steak with eggs, hashed browns and (wait for it) sweet potato biscuit (or toast but who would be so lame?).

My only concern was that it might be more food than I could eat, but my server, who has served me on more than a few occasions, assured me that I could handle it, insisting that it was the perfect way to lay down a base before starting my Saturday night activities. Hmm, how well do these people know me anyway?

Phil D. was spinning madly and although I couldn't identify by name a single song I heard, I could definitely appreciate the great bass lines and intense grooves that filled the room, practically calling out for people to dance (don't look at me).

Instead they were eating, as did I the moment my plate hit the bar. My steak was from Mount Vernon Farms and easily the tastiest piece of beef battered and fried up country-style I could have hoped for. And, oh, that gravy...

The eggs were nicely cooked and seasoned with the hashed browns crispy and full of onions. But let's take a moment for a reverie on that sweet potato biscuit. Pale orange with a traditional biscuit crumb, it was as well executed as the music I was so enjoying.

I asked for butter although the biscuit didn't need it, but then I never claimed to know my limits. When my server asked how I liked everything, I swooned and pointed at the orange gem in my hand and mouth.

"I know," he laughed. "They did a test batch yesterday and I ate, like, five when they came out of the oven." Oh, to have had access to five of those beauties!

A friend arrived and I gave him a bite of my steak and eggs just to enjoy his reaction. Foolish man that he was, he'd already had breakfast at home with his girlfriend, but I convinced him that he needed to have one of those biscuits and some Polyface Farm sausage links at the very least. Oh, he thanked me alright.

Apparently my server did know me way too well, because he'd been right and I'd finished every single bite on my plate. Handing it back all but licked clean, he just grinned at me. "I knew you could."

Just like I knew Sprout could deliver on funky food and grooves for brunch. Bass and biscuits; that's my idea of a righteous way to start a Saturday.