Waking up on a weekend morning (and by morning I mean afternoon) with a throat like sandpaper and a heavy case of alcohol-induced dizzies hardly welcomes the notion of inserting vodka into your a.m. Tropicana. When my coworkers invited me to an all-you-can-drink Aussie Saturday brunch at The Sunburnt Cow, needless to say I was a bit hesitant to attend. After all, their motto is “get wet or get burnt.”

$15 gets you brunch and never-ending mimosas or bloody marys. The menu offers traditional breakfast options, like eggs benedict and omelets, as well as more substantial dishes like burgers and steak sandwiches. I ordered two eggs over medium and a mimosa as my productivity destroyer, vowing that I’d just have one so that I could work on my paper. But we all know how that goes.

Though the icy-eyed Australian waiter frightened me at first with his biting sarcasm and reluctance to answer questions about the menu, I soon took a liking to him as my glass remained in a perpetual state of runneth over. My one-drink quota was filled and exceeded in no time, leaving my expectations for getting work done that afternoon quite low (nonexistent).

Unfortunately, the portions weren’t the gracious, alcohol-sopping sponges I needed them to be. The eggs and home fries were tasty, both warm and fried to a golden hue at the edges, but I was still hungry after I finished eating. I watched over my coworkers’ plates like a zealous child and even made an unsuccessful attempt at swiping a lone potato from the slowest eater’s dish. The focus is clearly directed at getting your money’s worth of champagne-spiked orange juice. The space is also fairly limited with only a handful of tables which can accommodate large groups, so be prepared to wait an hour even if you’ve been promised seats in 30 minutes.

Photo courtesy of The New York Times