The Dandelion: 124 S. 18th St, Philadelphia

Get it? Dandy...Lion? How clever.

I have yet to have a meal at a Stephen Starr restaurant that has left me wanting. And yesterday was no exception. We took Chris' mom to The Dandelion near Rittenhouse Square for a Birthday Brunch. The Dandelion is styled as a British pub, and probably a lot nicer than a regular old British pub too, serving their takes on traditional British pub food, Bangers and Mash, Cottage Pie, Sunday Roasts... As luck would have it, this past weekend was the first taste of spring Philly has seen this winter; a gorgeous time to be out enjoying good food and drink with good company. This wasn't my first experience with The Dandelion, but it was the first sit-down meal I've had.

If the rooms of the restaurant had names, we were in the Dog Room. Stately grey wainscoting with rich emerald walls covered in framed paintings and artwork of dogs. Daschund print curtains, and "Mans Best Friend" lighting. We started off with some drinks, a Duck-Rabbit Milk Stout for me, and my mother in law got a flight of cask drawn ales. The waitress recommended the scones to start off, and how glad we were to take her advice. Best scone I've had since, since well... England! Warm scones arrived with raspberry jam and yes, clotted cream. The scones were so delicious they incited discussion of  Chris's grandmother's Irish recipe for scones, as well as, Googling how to make clotted cream. Perhaps a post for another day...

With each bite I replaced both jam and clotted cream.

After we had savored them to the last bite, we ordered two Full English Breakfasts and an Eggs Benedict. I went with the Full English because it just seemed like the right thing to do. When I lived and studied in London, as a student I had very little funds, so my Full English's at the local cafe were not as expertly prepared as this.  

Gotta get a little of everything in each bite

Heinz Baked Beans, check. Cumberland Sausage, check. Fried Tomato, check. Mushroom, check. Additionally there was a phenomenal piece of blood pudding. It was so fresh and seasoned to perfection that it made me forget what's it made of. My only complaint, if I were pressed to complain, is that the bacon was American "streaky bacon" and not traditional back bacon. What's the difference? And that certainly did not detract from the deliciousness of the meal. As I greedily wiped my plate clean and took my last bit of Stout, I sat back in my squashy cushioned bench and thought about when I could nap. Spot on, Dandelion. Cheers!