For those of you in the know, my search for the best Sunday morning benny in the West End has left me a little discouraged. This week I could barely bring myself to go, and was only motivated by a Chris Richards text message threatening my loved ones if more benedicts weren’t rated.

Plus, I’d received an email suggestion.

So, I sighed, stuffed my hands into my pockets and walked out to Denman Street, kicking rocks and wearing a long face. I’d been to Central Bistro before. They serve ‘fancy’ bennys. Spinach. Smoked salmon. Mushrooms. Onions. That kind of thing…

My last experience there was ruined by a generous helping of burnt onions sandwiched between the ham and english muffin. This time was to be a little different:

For starters, it was a Monday morning and there was plenty of room. I sat at the bar and soaked in the atmosphere. The windows were big and the morning sunshine spilled into the place. Soft, tasteful jazz played over the speakers. I ordered a coffee and asked the waitress which benny was the best.

“All of them,” she replied, and I immediately resented the statement.

“We’ll see about that,” I muttered under my breath.

I ordered the bacon and mushroom benny- hoping it would be half as good as the infamous blackstone benny. She asked me how I wanted my eggs, and my mood immediately changed. It was then that I respected Central Bistro; that I knew that they were taking this whole ‘benny’ thing seriously.

“Runny,” I told her with great importance.

My food arrived fast, as did a top up of my coffee, and my immediate thought was that it all looked very good. I deployed ketchup and tested a pan fry. Hot, crispy, subtly seasoned. Yes.

I dipped my fork into the hollandaise and touched it gingerly to my tongue. It was rich, but lacked the lemony bite that is normally the mark of an excellent version. I cut a small piece off the side of the benny, careful to get egg, bacon, mushroom and muffin. The english muffin was toasted to perfection, and coupled with all the rest, the hollandaise no longer seemed bland at all.

I ate with great relish and left no tip. This was an accident. I made it all the way back to my front door before realizing it and feeling compelled to turn around.

You don’t stiff the waitress who just served you the best benny in the West End.

So far…

And many thanks to Caitlin for sending me back to Central. If anyone else has suggestions, fire ‘em my way.