Fifth Avenue’s Hash House a Go-Go is an institution in San Diego’s food scene. Here’s why.
If you’ve ever wondered what food would look like doing jazz hands and singing the theme song for Fame, then all you need do is go to the Hash House a Go-Go on Fifth Avenue. It’s big, it’s flamboyant, and it’s almost a pantomime of farmhouse food. And it’s absolutely fantastic.
Above all else, the food is big, in every sense of the word. And I don’t mean the kind of brobdingnagian food fetishism you’ll find on pimpthatsnack.com, I mean seriously tasty food in mass quantities… served on platters with rosemary sticks sticking out the top of them that are oddly reminiscent of the feather in Huggy Bear’s purple fedora. Normally, huge portion sizes are a warning sign, like pictures on menu, or the word “surprise” in the name of the chef’s signature dish (or for that matter, in the name of any dish). But whatever, you do, don’t run at the size of the portions. Remember, this is farm food, the type of meal expected to propel a sweaty, salt-of-the-earth kind of man to plow the south forty in three hours. Of course, to urban folks, this is the kind of meal expected to propel a sweaty, modern man to the couch for a four-hour food coma. Don’t worry; it’ll be worth it.
French Toast
Come at lunchtime, and you’ll be greeted by a bevy of “stuffed” one-pound burgers, complimented by things like mashed potatoes (not on the side, on the burger!), or the fiendishly good ham and eggs. Honestly, don’t bother with the salads. They’ll be the size of a small rainforest, and you didn’t go there for a salad anyway. Instead, get the Kokomo, the specialty meatloaf sandwich. It’s got roasted tomatoes on it, so it’s a little bit like a salad. And what tomatoes they are – sweet, soft, and with an amazing depth of flavor; they’re almost enough to make me swear that people who put ketchup on meatloaf should be waterboarded. Lunchtime is a great show at the Hash House, like a bargain matinee at the best musical in town. But unlike any other over-the-top extravaganza, prime time at the Hash House is in the morning.
The Kokomo
Take a moment, if you will, to meditate upon the glory of the sunrise. The dewy grass, the heavenly silence, the almost angelic light of the morning sun… and now picture, in the middle of all of it, a pork loin benedict the size of your thigh. And just for effect, picture Europe’s “The Final Countdown” blaring over a loudspeaker as you begin to tear heroically through that thing. C’mon, Rocky! You can do it!
Were you the kid who stole the gravy boat at Thanksgiving and tried to drink it like a fine wine? Have you ever wondered what it’s like to actually hear years of your life taken away? Try the biscuits and sausage gravy. It’s biblically good, and unlike most gravy-slathered abominations, you can actually see and taste the sausage in it. You may not live to pay the tab for it, but that’s kind of a bonus if you think about it.
Biscuits and Gravy
Or, if coronaries aren’t your thing, try the hashes, which are basically omelets without eggs. Or try the French toast, complete with bananas and pecans. And get a bacon waffle on the side, indisputable proof that bacon makes everything better (even bacon!). The silverware is just as sturdy as the food, which is good because you’ll need a sturdy fork to punch a new hole in your belt before you leave; it will be two inches too small.
But what if you don’t want the musical equivalent of Oklahoma! on your plate? What if you want Death of a Salesman? Well, they’ve got that, too. For a bit under seven dollars, you can be the proud consumer of the O’Hare of the Dog… a tall boy of Budweiser and a plate of bacon. And as counterintuitive as this sounds, it’s the best thing on the menu. Not because it’s the tastiest. Not because it’s the fanciest. Not even because you may be a bitter octogenarian and you’ve had the same damn breakfast every day since you were fighting the Germans in the War. The charm of the O’Hare of the Dog lies in the fact that, in a room full of outlandish, insanely portioned plates overflowing with eggs, bacon, and priapic rosemary sprigs, it’s the guy who orders the beer that seems the most interesting.
I’ve been going to the Hash House for years, and it has never gotten old. In fact, I still feel a thrill each time I get a platter of food set down in front of me with all of the gravitas of an alien invasion. There’s a glory about the whole thing that’s hard for me to describe, mostly because during breakfast hours I only communicate in angry grunts. But a bacon waffle soothes my early morning rage. Sure, my love of the food at the Hash House may kill me, but it hasn’t yet. It might in the future, but I don’t care.
For their great contibutions to the San Diego breakfast scene, www.thefeedfeed.com is proud to award the Hash House A-Gogo with the title of Best of San Diego – Breakfast.
All images courtesy of the Hash House A-Gogo
Hash House A-Gogo
3628 5th Ave
San Diego, CA 92103-4220
(619) 298-4646
www.hashhouseagogo.com
Chef Jordan Cherry
www.thefeedfeed.com
