I wanted to start this blog post out with an explanation as to why I am writing this review about a restaurant. The reason is because my husband was laid off 19 months ago so going out to eat is a rare treat. It used to be a regular, 3 times weekly event (if not more) but has been reduced down to about once a month, so each experience means so much more than it once did. When we had a disappointing night out at a restaurant before, it wasn’t that big of a deal because there was always another day or night. Now, the meals out are special and our money going toward a lunch here or a dinner there is limited. I want to warn people about Broken Yolk in Carlsbad if they happen to be on a low/limited budget themselves.
On Sunday, my husband and I had a unique opportunity to spend one-on-one time with our middle daughter. This is something that does not happen often. In fact, I cannot remember the last time we had the opportunity. We went to PetSmart and PetCo in search of a new dog bed for our huge Labradoodle. She was using the Sponge Bob couch but after getting mad at the inanimate object one too many times and pulling the stuffing out, it was time to throw the gross couch out and get something more dog-friendly. After the shopping trip, my husband decided he was ravenous despite the fact that he ate before we left. He is the one with the fast metabolism–I am a camel and can go for days without eating. The usual questions came up, “Where do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know where do you want to eat?”
“How about Broken Yolk?”
So, off we went to Broken Yolk in Carlsbad.
We parked the car pretty far away considering it’s a huge parking lot, and walked up to the entrance of the Broken Yolk. My husband left his name with the hostess and we waited for 15 minutes. So many people were waiting that I thought we were in for a real treat. We chatted, laughed, and really made a connection. We were actually having fun even while waiting.
The hostess called my husband’s name and we were off to our booth. She seated us near the TV and left us with a menu. My husband chose the Old-timer, I chose the MOM omelette and our daughter chose the Chicken Caesar without the chicken (she’s aiming toward becoming a full vegetarian). Our waitress came for our drink order. My husband I wanted coffee and our daughter got water. The waitress left and a guy with a carafe showed up shortly after she vacated. He appeared to be angry that he had to serve us coffee. He gruffly put down the cups and then poured the coffee from a height that made me wonder if we would be getting second degree burns at our restaurant experience. His anger definitely affected our little family party of 3. And then the waitress showed up with my cup of decaf which I hadn’t ordered so she took it back. Strike 2.
My daughter and I were facing the big flatscreen TV. Although we are not basketball fans, our eyes constantly kept going toward the TV. It was like an eye magnet. I commented on this fact, and my daughter agreed. We had to fight to stop watching TV to engage in conversation. Why does a breakfast place need a giant TV? I think it’s not necessary.
Soon, my husband’s Old-timer showed up. It was cold and unappealing. It looked positively gross. Strike 3. He was so looking forward to his hamburger because we don’t make many meat meals at home anymore. The plate was delivered by someone who was not our waitress. He sat and waited for our food to arrive which it did about 5 minutes later before he started to eat. By then, his Old-timer hamburger was indeed old like its name suggest and looked worse than ever. I cannot believe he did not send it back. My daughter’s salad looked old, wilted, and unappealing. Strike 4. She did not like the dressing either. I tasted the dressing and it seemed fine, just not very Caeser-ly. My omelette, on the other hand, was piping hot, delicious and so good I nearly ate the entire thing. I shared my fruit with my daughter because she was not eating her salad. I also shared my muffin because it tasted more like a cupcake.
We had so much food leftover that the waitress asked if we’d like some doggy bags. We all said, “No, thank you” in unison. No need to take home food that nobody would eat as a leftover if nobody would eat it when it was new.
Everyone who waited on us seemed unhappy except the manager who came to get our money with the check. She did seem genuinely pleased to see us. She did not ask us about our experience, though.
Although we had been to the Broken Yolk in Carlsbad one time before, I thought this time would be better. It was not, it was far worse, and we won’t ever get back in THAT line again.