Five of us gathered for breakfast on Sunday and traveled to South Tacoma Way to dine at The Homestead. One of the hardest things to do at The Homestead is to walk past their bread and pastry display in their lobby without stopping to order something. Please, avert your eyes and continue to the dining area. You can order on your way out to accompany your left-overs. The chances are fairly certain you will have left-overs.
We went to the large open dining room, which easily had room for our group. Peg had opted to sleep in. I was hungry for waffles, but in reviewing the menu I found no waffle package with hash browns. I was drawn to The Squatch, which had Indian Fry Bread and an eight ounce Chicken Fried Steak.
While everyone reviewed the menu and placed their orders, I watched old black and white cartoons from the 1930s on a wall mounted big screen TV. The cartoons are actually very clever . . . and I am easily entertained. I appreciate the humor and awaited my order.
I was overwhelmed by the pile of food from The Squatch. I had been mostly interested in the Navajo fry bread. The menu remarked that it was topped with a “trace” of Alfredo sauce. That’s not how I would describe it, however. I would say the white Alfredo weighed down the scrambled eggs and the fry bread. I cut several pieces of fry bread to try and loved them. With a little butter and syrup I would have been a really happy camper. The Alfredo sauce is not like an Italian Alfredo sauce. It is more of a well-seasoned white gravy. The sauce covered and drowned the scrambled eggs and fry bread. Without the Alfredo I think I would have loved the eggs with their bell peppers, onions and mushrooms.
The Chicken Fried Steak was described as a “1/2 LB chicken fried steak stacked on top of that with a dollop of more Alfredo sauce.” In reality, the Alfredo dollop coated the entire steak and only left a couple golden-fried edges peaking out. I ran out of steam with the fry bread and was well into the steak when I realized I had not seem the hash browns which I had ordered “burnt, burnt, burnt.” I asked my friends, “Didn’t I order hash browns?” I got a round of nods and Jan, mentioned that she hadn’t had hash browns from her order, either. It turned out that hash browns were not included with The Squatch, but the waitress had not questioned my request for “burnt, burnt, burnt with an onion cut up in them.” This seemed a little strange, but I sucked up my petty annoyance and finished off the wonderful chicken fried steak and Alfredo sauce.
At the end of the meal, our waitress (she was very nice) brought me a plate of perfectly fried hash browns just like I had requested . . . at no charge. Even though I had not eaten most of the Navajo fry bread, the pile of scrambled eggs, and the heavy coat of Alfredo, I was pleasantly full and happy without the potatoes. When I returned home I cooked up some of those hash browns for Peg’s breakfast. They were accompanied by a tilapia fillet and a mango-lime salsa. She loved them. I later finished off the rest with a little ham and sliced tomatoes for dinner. The only thing lacking was Alfredo. The next time I visit The Homestead I will know how to order exactly what I want . . . and I do look forward to that meal.