Not that croissant, when said properly (not as though it’s nothing more than a gummy vessel by which a shitty Burger King sandwich enters the mouth), isn’t already a fab word and not that it’s not already French, but chocolate croissant sounds better in French because in French it’s called a pain au chocolat, but at Porto’s it is called a chocolate croissant and that’s totally okay because Porto’s is fab and also not French. Good.
Whenever I’m in Burbank California, which, considering I’d never been for the first 37 years of my life, is, delightfully, somewhere between quite often and a fair amount, I eat a meal at Porto’s. It’s a thing. Might be a breakfast or maybe a lunch, but it happens. 100%. Yesterday it was both meals but this post is about breakfast because at breakfast I ordered the chorizo omelet on Cuban bread and a Martinelli’s apple juice, the kind in the tiny rotund bottles. Adorable, although this one yesterday was plastic not glass, but that’s okay. The important part of this story came two sentences ago, maybe you missed it because I’m only just telling you about it now. I ordered and ate from Porto’s only the chorizo omelet sandwich on Cuban bread, not the pain au chocolat or chocolate croissant (which are the same thing, you now know). This is a thing too, a thing I don’t do quite often or a fair amount. I always order the extra thing, especially when that thing is a fab pain au chocolat croissant, but yesterday I didn’t and while this is a tiny moment for a rotund man it is also important.
The not ordering of the chocolate croissant was a battle that raged in my head for the entirety of the time I shuffled my way from the back to the front of the Porto’s line. 10 minutes at minimum.
Order it, don’t do it, order it, no, c’mon, you’ll feel terrible afterward, it looks so good, just get the chorizo omelet. That’s it.
*Flickr photo by Basheer Tome, used under Creative Commons license.
