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Battle of the Omelets

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Before I begin to describe my recent hunt for the best omelet in Ithaca, I’ll open with a quick reminder to those of you who missed last week’s column. This semester, I’ll be writing a biweekly Zagat-meets-Carrie-Bradshaw critique of meals and males.

Formal dating — a ritual that seems to have been somewhat lost to our generation — creates a perfect venue in which to combine the two critiques. So I’m bringing dating back. Ithaca prides itself on turning out an acclaimed variety of restaurants, and Cornell is known to turn out a top-notch collection of young men. Every other week, I’ll be testing both of those claims by picking out a restaurant, picking up an escort and reviewing them both.

Last week, I reviewed a classy meal at Just a Taste with The not-so-classy Lawyer. So, this week I opted for a more casual setting with someone who fits a category of men that is too often overlooked by college women. He’s the type of guy we all say we really want, but when it’s game time, never actually go for. He is … The Nice Guy.

The Nice Guy offered me a ride home for winter break because he’s, well, nice. Somewhere between Binghamton and the Delaware Water Gap, our conversation led to Ithaca cuisine.

“You really can’t get a good omelet in Ithaca,” he said, nostalgic for his hometown diner. I wasn’t sure if he was delirious or just blabbering to keep conversation afloat, but surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Are you kidding? Ithaca does eggs better than MC Hammer does the Running Man.” And, although I never actually said that cheesy line out loud, I admit I was thinking about it.

Then The Nice Guy (TNG) proposed that I take him on an egg-tour of Ithaca, and I eagerly complied. So began our Battle of the Omelets: a journey to find the most satisfying plate of eggs in Tompkins County.

Our first stop was Mano’s Diner. TNG picked me up on a Saturday morning and off we drove to the small-town greasy spoon on Route 13. Red leather booths and the overwhelming aroma of fried-everything was a dead giveaway. Mano’s is your classic hometown diner and it doesn’t fail to uphold the quirky local flare we all know so well.

As for the eggs, they didn’t much exceed my expectations of a typical greasy spoon: over-salted and under-fluffed. TNG agreed, although he was not as harsh a critic as I was because he’s The Nice Guy. My omelet with green peppers, onions and Swiss cheese (they didn’t have cheddar) with a side of over-buttered toast and crispy home fries ($6.95) came out quickly. The dish was delivered by a raspy-voiced, over-caffeinated waitress who couldn’t get our order straight, but who added much amusement to the meal.

TNG ordered an omelet with feta and tomato (they didn’t have spinach) along with a tall glass of chocolate milk (an endearing beverage choice, I’ll admit). “Not the best eggs I’ve ever had, but not terrible,” was his review — a standard response from anyone who can be called The Nice Guy.

Our next stop was at ABC Café on Stewart Ave. This bohemian, vegetarian- and vegan-friendly joint is brimming with local character. With funky artwork lining the walls and Norah Jones playing softly in the background, there was no denying that we were in the heart of Ithaca.

The brunch menu consists of a rotating Omelet of the Day along with several other house specialties. I ordered a three-egg omelet with broccoli and cheddar ($5.75). TNG got frisky and ordered the Huevos Rancheros: eggs over with salsa, melted cheddar and black beans ($6.75). The meals took a while to come out, but were well worth the wait. Our dreadlocked, nose-pierced waiter delivered two heaping plates of fresh, fluffy eggs along with two delicious cups of freshly roasted Gimme! coffee.

TNG and I both agreed that the food was a marked improvement from Mano’s, but the atmosphere was admittedly less inviting. Nearly all the other patrons at ABC were townies, and for good reason. The wait staff did not seem too welcoming to college-student types like us, which is a shame. They had some of the best eggs in town.

Our third and final stop on the egg tour was good old Wegmans. Unlike your typical grocery store, Weg’s does an excellent Sunday breakfast at the Market Café until noon. If you can get out of bed that early, it’s well worth the schlep. The downside is, in order to get your custom-made eggs, you have to wait in an often-lengthy line. But once you reach the egg station, you’ll have an array of the freshest ingredients to choose from, including artichokes, roasted red peppers, bacon and ham. Sides of fruit and homemade toast (with exotic flavors like Oatmeal Molasses) are included to make for a satisfying meal ($6.95). Plus, you’ll never find friendlier service than you do at Wegmans.

So, it seems I successfully disproved TNG’s theory that Ithaca lacks quality omelets. But he wasn’t as successful in changing my assumption about Nice Guys. I tend to think that if the only adjective I can use to describe a man is “nice,” then in reality, he is just bland. TNG proved me wrong for a while. We had an entertaining four-hour car ride home and a stellar first date. Actually, I found his mild demeanor and lack of sarcasm to be a refreshing change from the crude New York boys I’m used to. Our conversations were authentic and honest — something that I initially appreciated.

But, admittedly, I was yawning by our second stop on the egg tour. At some point, “nice” just wasn’t doing it for me any more and I was ready for TNG to mock something. Mock me. Anything.

Although I would jump at the opportunity to spend another day with TNG platonically, I’m not so sure about romance. A great guy to bring home to Mom and Dad … but not the best to bring back to my house in Collegetown.

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