The Kentucky Derby, with its BBQ, big hats, and bettin’, has become a tradition for me and LC. It’s pointless to photograph and write about the horrific food available in the stands at the event itself, (although I am still nibbling on the leftover kettle korn as I write this) nor the enormous grilled crab legs at Sandy’s annual shindig.
But I will tell you about Bob Evans. Although I’m familiar with Bob Evans products, primarily sausage, I had no idea there were restaurants. In fact, there are nearly 600 in the U.S., located throughout the midwest and south.
On the morning of our drive back to Atlanta, LC admitted Bob Evans was one of his favorites during his college years as we pulled into the parking lot, ready to fuel up on a good ol’ Southern breakfast. Our Derby hostess TH and her man D joined us before she headed north on business. The restaurant’s sunny yellow decor was inviting on this rainy morning as we chose a booth just before the crowds arrived.
I strayed from my boring scrambed eggs and ordered them over easy with bacon, fruit instead of potatoes, and wheat toast. However, I neglected to request the toast dark, receiving warm buttered bread in its place (see photo). I’m always baffled when restaurants serve toast that isn’t toasted. The second attempt was much better, although I had asked for dry toast and it was buttered.
No matter, the bacon was chewy, the yolks were runny and we were all set for our six hour drive!