The Best Of team leaves no Hollandaise untested in its quest to give you the choicest Eggs Benedict in town.
As with many successful dishes, more than one kitchen would like to take credit for the birth of Eggs Benedict.The claims spring from the Gilded Age at two legendary New York institutions: Delmonico’s (the putative “first” restaurant in the U.S., serving meals to eager patrons since 1830); and the exclusive Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, still today a temporary home for the wealthy, the royal and dignitaries the world over. But whether the meal was the innovative result of a frequent customer’s boredom with the regular fare (the Delmonico’s theory), or a Sunday morning hangover cure created by a woozy stockbroker (the Waldorf contention), it certainly has nothing to do with that renowned traitor of the American Revolution, Benedict Arnold.
The sum of its parts
For the woefully uninitiated (remedy this oversight the minute you finish this article), the dish is crafted from deceptively simple ingredients: two English muffins, two slices of Canadian bacon, two poached eggs, all stacked bottom to top in that order and all covered generously in Hollandaise sauce (your typically French unction of egg yolk, butter, lemon juice, some salt and perhaps a touch of vinegar).
Unfortunately for everyone (the Best Of team included), the most accomplished Eggs Benedict cannot be purchased – only prepared by a dear friend of ours, trained at Le Cordon Bleu, who separates his yolks by hand and throws adorable tantrums when his Hollandaise “breaks” (i.e., when the yolks and butter refuse stubbornly to congeal). But we’re proud pragmatists here at the Post, and we know absolutely serviceable renditions must exist in our proud capital. The Best Of team — with great enthusiasm — sets out to find the most flawless execution of this abiding example of brunch brilliance.
Knocked from the top
Our first stop was 2002’s winner: Golden Gate Pub. They have the proud distinction of offering the dish from morning ‘til night (it’s not on the dinner menu. Just ask). For Hr 45, the plate looked promising. The color of the sauce was exactly the pale yellow we wanted to see, and, like so many dishes in Ukraine, they went heavy on the pork (a definite bonus in the decadent eyes of the Best Of team). The sauce was reasonable — neither memorable nor overwhelming — the eggs well poached, and the bread, while a far cry from an English muffin (re: thickly sliced white toast), was certainly spongy enough to perform its important task of soaking through with equal parts yolk and Hollandaise. The oddest addition (perhaps even a mistake by the kitchen) was a bit of wet soft cheese adrift amidst the rest of the more familiar components; however, due to the relative tepidity of the flavors, the bit of salt and tartness commingled surprisingly well. Overall, an absolute average — and therefore the perfect standard by which to measure the rest.
Strange potatoes
Our next stop was Arizona BBQ, and we worked up a hearty appetite beforehand with a brisk and bracing walk along the frozen Dnipro. Served from 8 a.m. until noon for Hr 47, the first thing we noticed was the side dish. Rather than French fries or sauteed potatoes, AZ goes the pre-fab frozen route, presenting us with two small isosceles triangles of processed potatoes, which sadly detracted from what looked to be decent eggs. The Hollandaise was the thickest we’ve ever seen — think custard rather than cream – but the consistency of the yolk was perfect. The sauce may have been just a touch on the bland side, but the pork (fattier and saltier than Golden Gate’s – again, two more bonuses in our gluttonous opinion) made up the difference. And to be honest, we’re forced to admit that the potatoes – geometrically bizarre or not – tasted much better than they looked. Also, AZ puts real English muffins underneath the poached eggs (well, we didn’t exactly see the packaging, but they certainly looked and played the part).
A French sojourn
With applaudable honesty, our next destination, Marche, calls their interpretation “Toasts Benedict,” (Hr 32, side of potatoes an extra Hr 20) conceding their lack of English muffins out of hand. While the dish here had its definite strong suits, we were saddened by the unrealized potential of the plate as a whole. With by far the best service and the nicest ambience (we spent a lovely morning behind large windows quietly watching snow drift down to the pavement one story below), the potatoes were solidly sauteed slices, the toasts a delicate and flaky white eagerly soaking up the errant rivulets of Hollandaise, but the sauce itself was still a bit bland if not a little cloying — odd for the only restaurant in our search so determinedly French. A bit of salt, an extra splash of lemon and (dare we say it?) a bit less butter would have drawn out the necessary light tang from the emulsion and easily clinched first. What’s more, their ingredients were easily the freshest and most delicately prepared. If they take our advice, Marche’s version will be a perennial winner.
Success at last
Our cheapest plate (Hr 36), however, also took our prize. Timeout’s ham was the closest to Canadian bacon, the Hollandaise sauce was a nice balance of lemon and butter, and the eggs loosed their abundant yolks with only a light prick of the fork. What’s more, the potatoes, while an admittedly small portion, were possibly the best home fries we’ve had since we got here (and we, like most residents of Kyiv, eat a lot of potatoes). The only shortcoming, though a potentially glaring one, could be easily remedied just by asking the waitress to make sure the muffins are lightly toasted (ours were obviously just pulled from the package and remained a bit doughy while chewing). Overall, however, this is the best Eggs Benedict in town.
But if we now know where to order our favorite brunch, we’ve admittedly made precious little headway into the question of origins. Granted, we’re no scholars of food – but we will divulge having used Eggs Benedict ourselves as a very successful hangover cure more than once. So we’re inclined toward the Waldorf camp. Regardless, if it can ever be proven to have been birthed at the hotel, Delmonico’s can still take credit at least for Lobster Newburg – and perhaps even the ubiquitous hamburger patty – so they’ll have plenty of salves for their loss.
Timeout
50 Gorkoho, 287-3229
Open 24 hours
English menu: YesEnglish-speaking staff: Yes
