Back in the olden times when we both worked about a bazillion hours a day in Manhattan, we went to City Limits at least once a week. The food and service are consistently good. But for the past decade we have mainly gone there only when I want a big, juicy burger after I donate blood.
It became a mainstay once again during our mainly kitchen-free days at the start of the project. The food is still good across the board, but I like their breakfast menu best. There are a handful of choices that could quickly become favorites, if I didn't know better: The chorizo and egg quesadilla, served with red and green salsas and guacamole; the egg and sausage burrito -- chorizo again!; huevos rancheros, with sauce-smothered corn tortillas that are still crispy, crispy, crispy; and the spinach, bacon and roquefort omelet: crispy, creamy, salty and tangy. I like to choose egg whites for omelets and scrambled, to limit the damage.
Several of the waiters are alumni of the fine-dining restaurants also owned by the Livanos family. One of them, a rather elderly gentleman, waited on us one Sunday morning when we were in serious need of a dose of gracious living. When we sat down he unfolded our linen napkins and draped them across our laps, laying out our silverware with a little flourish, butter knives resting across our bread plates. He kept the water glasses and coffee cups full, didn't interrupt our conversation, didn't clear the table till we were both done, and was friendly without being intrusive. Thanks to him, a regular Sunday breakfast felt like a special occasion and really brightened our day.
City Limits is pricier than your average diner, but the menu is more innovative, and the food and service are more than a step above. I don't aspire to ever return to my weekly visitor status, but it's going to be on my list when I crave a breakfast that's just what the doctor ordered (me not to eat).
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