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| - Shhh. Sequestered in the corner of a half-abandoned shopping center off of Curry Hollow Road in a part of Pittsburgh all too many residents pretend doesn't exist squats yet another All-American Diner. Pink, black, and silver accentuate the interiors from ceiling to floor, from stool to counter. Framed pictures of Classical Hollywood luminaries such as Lucille Ball, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and Frank Sinatra ornament the flamingo walls along with stenciled-on quotes from famous people, agreeably reminding me of Bridgewater's Mezza Luna Cafe. On a chalkboard one can view the entire menu.
In overall spirit, my particular brunch at Our Little Secret strongly parallels the one had just 24 hours ago at Waffles INCaffeinated, and that includes uncostly breakfast fare of the uppermost merit. Gracing our paper-cloaked table were escutcheon-shaped plates that held the following dishes: Baltimore Style Eggs Benedict, Peanut Butter & Banana Crepes, and Kay's Chop Special which came with her choice of french toast.
Deja vu? Ya think?
There were differences, however. My Baltimore Style Eggs Benedict came with full-on crabcakes instead of morsels of crab and the tops of each were lightly scorched for presentation. I told our waiter that these crabcakes were better than those served by Baltimore House, a nearby seafood specialty restaurant, and I wasn't just blowin' smoke -- these contained loads of REAL, fibrous crabmeat (are ya readin', Grant Bar?), and showed that great crabcakes don't necessarily have to be comprised of jumbo lump to be worthy (I'm thinking these were either made with special or backfin, both of which are just fine as far as my stomach goes). The outside was crackling, the inside was smooth, rich blessedness, the filler was minimal, and the two of them were had with the usual Eggs Benedict components for just under $11. And while we're walking down this street, let's talk about that hollandaise sauce. Goddamn, I was beginning to think that I'd never find an area restaurant that did one well. As much as I liked 'em, even Original Pancake House's hollandaise failed to tempt me (mom's is still best). Who knew I'd have eggs benedict two days in a row and that both would be glazed with a stunning mutha of a mother sauce? Citrusy, lardy, and dissolute, at first I scraped some of the xanthous gravy onto my fork and knife, savoring the sauce alone, dangerously coming close to ignoring (and it would have been tragic for these beauts to get cold) each gracefully poached egg, both of them bloated with ichorous yolk so sweltry, one wonders how it didn't solidify. Some agile cookery is going on in this kitchen.
Properly saving them for dessert (sez me), the pair of Peanut Butter & Banana Crepes caused me to crave ice cold milk (or more Sierra Mist) with their hard palate-clinging properties and their briny, nectarous, carbohydratic nature. Unlike Waffles INC. where the peanut butter is melded with whipped cream (a chiffon) to keep it from being too rich (as WINC's co-owner Josh confessed to me), OLS doesn't wuss out (not that I didn't love WINC's chiffon). So yes, you'll be drinking lots of liquid with it, but you'll love it. Furthering the richness were the omelete-ish, custardesque, quivering, canary crepes themselves that were sifted with powdered sugar and swollen with the titular contents. "Ooof!" I declared after finishing the last one. Who said crepes were dainty, now?
Splintery taters littered our plates like hay that had spilled from the back of a truck, and they were as oily, crunchy, and starchy as the best hash house shredded tubers tend to be.
We arrived around 11:30AM (an hour before closing), and I was initially relieved that we had no trouble finding a booth to sit in, but as I overheard the co-owner complain during our terrific brunch that they weren't doing much business for dinner, I felt somewhat disheartened. As I alluded to at the start of this review, the plaza where OLS resides has a number of empty storefronts. It would be a shame if this cool, bantam canteen closes along with the department store and supermarket before it. So, my sermon to the local foodiesphere on this gleaming Sunday is to let the "secret" slip; if your area chuckwagon is too busy to accommodate you on a weekend morn (say Dor-Stop's got a 45 minute wait in effect), drive over to Pleasant Hills for a most pleasant brunch, and be sure to tell everyone in your circle to follow you there. These folks could use the commerce.
P.S. Our Little Secret also caters (duh!), serves cocktails (for dinner only, but they made an exception for a regular who was having a Bloody Mary with his breakfast), and has a interesting "take out meal plan" (go to the website for details).
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