The team at Big Apple Bagels builds chewy, ring-shaped bread bites from scratch and wakes palates with steaming cups of Brewster's coffee. The menu teems with eats inspired by New York City deli food, such as bagel-based club sandwiches and nearly a dozen styles of cream cheese—including three whipped varieties and one milked directly from a somersaulting cow. Bagel flavors include plain and sesame, and gourmet muffins introduce mouths to fluffy, cake-like texture kept moist—yet low in cholesterol—with soybean oil.
FroYo Love caters to sweet-teethed clientele with a rotating self-selection of 16 self-serve frozen yogurt flavors and 37 toppings. Chilly journeys begin with a mukluk fitting and flavor selection from among the many sweet, tart, low-cal, low-carb, nondairy, and no-sugar-added options. Yogurt-armed guards can then decorate their icy stomach ammunition with an array of toppings, including syrups, fresh fruits, and honey. After works of culinary art are complete, they’re weighed, priced accordingly ($0.34/oz), and lectured on the dangers of sunbathing.
Chick-fil-A's chicken sandwiches became an instant classic one fateful day in 1967, when an anonymous Georgia chicken wandered into a hot, buttered bun and made history. Forty-some-odd years later, or 267 million chicken years, Chick-fil-A sandwiches are still made the same way, with boneless cuts of breast meat hand-breaded by mystic chicken ascetics, dill-pickle chips pickled from the freshest of cucumbers, and an optional golden wheat bun that is both golden and made of wheat ($3.35 including tax). Like gambling on horse racing, the original chicken sandwich is so dangerously delicious that you'll devour two without thinking twice, but unlike gambling, Chick-fil-A's sandwiches never contain dice, poker chips, or knee-breaking goons in track suits.
A Japanese-owned-and-operated dining destination, Hyuga Sushi combines time-honored sushi techniques with the freshest seafood available to create both classic and creative Japanese fare. The sushi menu includes a full net of specialty rolls such as the Samurai ($9.50), a hunger-slaying combination of fresh crab, avocado, cucumber, and yamagobo topped with mackerel and ginger, or the Felix ($12.50), a fun-loving concoction of crab, avocado, and shrimp tempura, topped with smoked salmon and spicy mayo, kept in line by the more reclusive Oscar roll. A selection of skillfully sliced sushi-bar entrees ($12.95–$20.95) further sates unbaked yens, and the equally tempting lunch and dinner menus offer a variety of nonsushi dishes ($6.50–$14.50). Hyuga's intermingling of tradition and modernity is further exemplified in its décor, which marries traditional Japanese design with iconic American photographs, including a young Marlon Brando long before he developed his voracious appetite for tempura-battered furniture.
The helpful staff at Menchie’s grants visitors the sweet-tooth independence to assemble their own glacial delights, streamlining the complicated art of frozen-yogurt consumption into three simple steps: mix, weigh, and pay. Patrons choose from a rotating menu of 14 flavors, such as cake batter, red velvet, chocolate-covered banana, and then bejewel the chilly masterpiece with topping choices such as fresh fruit, candy-bar pieces, fudge and caramel sauces, and Oreos with compound fractures. The regular New York cheesecake yogurts mingle with low-fat, nondairy, and no-sugar-added flavors, adding health-conscious options to the dessert-bar repertoire. Crammed cups or freshly made waffle bowls are weighed ($0.41/oz.), scores are settled, and cheerful taste buds skip off to enjoy frosty spoonfuls. Packed with live and active cultures, each cup or cone acts as a Trojan horse of protein and calcium that can lower cholesterol, boost immune systems, and topple legendary walled empires.
At CB’s Cupcakes, the customer has complete and total control, and founder and owner Connie Barham wouldn’t have it any other way. The cupcake connoisseur opened the shop under the premise of why not let the customer choose—even for walk-in orders—and she’s been operating that way ever since. She spirals five frostings, such as chocolate buttercream or peanut butter, across the top of five types of cake: vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, key lime, and the flavor of the month, such as blueberry or cran-orange. Then, she tops off the mini or muffin-sized cakes with an array of fixings, such as sprinkles, graham-cracker crumbs, or mini M&Ms.
Connie, who sells the handheld treats at her two storefront locations and at various fairs around the state, doesn’t mind feeding furry companions either. She welcomes dogs to wait outside her colorful Victorian-themed shops, offering them water bowls and even bakeing them canine-friendly cupcakes made from healthy ingredients.
According to Zagat, the portions of breakfast plates at Broken Yolk Cafe can be "obscene"—although one could also consider them generous. Sometimes, these sizes are even considered a challenge. In 2010, Man Vs. Food's Adam Richman paid the restaurant a visit to tackle its infamous Iron Man Special: a 12-egg omelet, topped with chili and piled onto a 15-inch pizza pan.
Opened in 1979, Broken Yolk has spent decades fine-tuning its southwestern recipes—many enigmatically named for people such as "Betty" and "Tony G". Alongside steaming breakfast burritos and griddled buttermilk pancakes, the menu features nearly 20 omelets stuffed with fresh ingredients such as beef chorizo, avocado, and mushroom sauce. Shredded hash-browns are crafted from fresh potatoes, and the salsa is handmade each day. Until its official closing time at 3 p.m., Broken Yolk also serves sandwiches and half-pound Angus burgers. The local chain's six locations each feature their own private banquet room and secret underground passage to one of the other restaurants.