After a debaucherous night at the Addy’s, Katie and I needed something that could soak up the mixture of shame and bad decisions that was inside of us. So we decided to hit up The Corner Restaurant in Westport.
Little did we know that we were about to fall madly in love with it and develop a foodie obsession with our waiter, Andy.
Dearest Andy (Andrew),
Do you know what Katie and I love? People that are really good at their job. People these days just seem to not care as much about being outstanding in their positions. They just float by, reading Reddit while they write their little food blogs.
But not you.
I imagine you wake up each morning before brunch ready to punch a goddamn cougar in the throat.
After Katie and I were seated, you were all, “Hey guys. Let’s do this shit. You’re gonna brunch so hard that Vampire Weekend is going to look like a reggae band. Because that’s exactly how white you are.”
Then you poured me coffee. And throughout the hour and a half we were there, you did’t let it get below 2/3rds. Not once. Because you’re a fucking champion.
Then you told us to bask upon the glory of the menu. Which totally looks like the marauders map. Except, instead of Voldemorts, it leads us to flavor town.
Then told us to look at the protein selections, whispering…
Short ribs are my jam.
We put our brunch in your hands telling you to “surprise us.” I’ve never been more nervous in my life. What if he brings me like a side salad and an order of plain grits because he thinks I’ve gotten fat? What if he brings me my second choice instead of my first, causing me to spend the rest of the day thinking, “What if?”.
But then you came with treasures, heralded by lens flares and doves.
When you brought out our food I was like, “Bro. Seriously? You shouldn’t have. Just look at this short rib hash. Look how the light catches the gossamer thin sheen of oil and happiness. It’s beautiful. I knew we were connecting as a group here, but this? This is the next step in our culinary relationship. Let’s be best friends.”
But you weren’t done. Not yet. A second later with the grace that could only be describe as, “elf-like“, you placed a platter of sausage gravy covered biscuits with a side of hasbrown and egg, right infront of us.
Bae. Seriously? This is too much.
We ate it.
God, how we ate it.
We ate it so hard that we were honestly exhausted for the rest of the day. Which was unfortunate because that meant that laundry, Aldi runs and staring at our Netflix queue was way more difficult than normal.
Short. Rib. Coma.
So how would we rate it?
Bathrooms: 7/10 only because of the random hanger.
Bathrooms: Didn’t go because I didn’t drink 6 cups of fucking coffee.
The Corner Restaurant. Go there.
4059 Broadway, Kansas City, MO 64111