Breakfast Clubbed
I know midtowners who often make the twenty-minute drive to Riverside for a hearty breakfast at the Corner Café (see review) because the number of diner-style breakfast joints in the urban core has dwindled over the years. That list included the venerable Jimmy’s Restaurant at 5429 Troost, which closed last July after a long run. It was one of the few family-owned diners left on the Troost corridor.
The restaurant had a “Closed for remodeling” sign posted for more than six months, but owner Joe Semaan finally reopened the freshly painted venue on February 21. Neighborhood regulars who show up at what he’s calling New Jimmy’s Restaurant may be surprised that the changes aren’t only cosmetic. This is no longer a full-service joint but a “casual fast-food” restaurant, where customers order at a counter, then either take the food home or eat in the dining room. The old plates and flatware have been replaced by plastic plates, knives, forks and spoons, and Styrofoam cups.
Semaan is now staying open until 10 p.m., and he’s still serving his signature pan-fried chicken and catfish dinners. If you don’t mind eating on plastic, the food is tasty and cheap. A 12-ounce sirloin dinner with two side dishes is $9.95, a brisket dinner with two sides is $6.95, and most breakfast offerings cost less than five bucks.
The downside? The brisket was flavorful but shockingly fatty. I ordered a green salad and discovered there was only Italian dressing. The patty melt was great. Ditto for a terrific slab of chocolate layer cake. (All the desserts are still made in-house.) But the staff still can’t decide if they’re supposed to wait on you. I miss the old Jimmy’s; the new one is clearly inspired by eat-it-and-beat-it joints like Einstein Bros. Bagels, which isn’t necessarily a good thing.
A much more glamorous breakfast, served on real china, can be had from 7 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Saturday at Re:Verse (618 Ward Parkway). It’s not perfect yet: The service is hit-or-miss, and customers need to be very specific about how they want their eggs; the kitchen crew happily overcooks them. As for the cinnamon-spiced Moroccan coffee, it’s not the kind of java I crave first thing in the morning. But if you firmly ask for what you want — real coffee, runny eggs, a decent portion of potatoes — you’ll get it.
