Brunch at Supper

South Street's casual but upscale, farm-to-table Supper got me in the door last year with their deviled egg happy hour (so good, they still do it), and this year they got me in the door for their brunch — specifically their Southern-themed Dixie biscuit with pimento cheese, and their red velvet waffles.

What sounded like two plates right up my alley, ended up being a wrong turn. These two dishes weren't bad, but I went in there with preconceived notions of what each dish should be, and the reality did not match.
The tender, buttery cat head biscuit (named so because it's the size of a cat's head) was perfect. The scrambled egg inside the biscuit was perfect (ham was omitted), as well as the side of grits, even though, for $13, the portion was small.

But hold up. What the hell kind of pimento cheese is that? Did Supper's chef replicate oozy, fake grocery store pimento cheese made from unnatural and un-pronounceable ingredients (not saying Supper uses those ingredients, just describing a tub of Ruth's or some other such brand), instead of making thick, visibly grated, home style pimento cheese? I'm simultaneously impressed and appalled.

I'm impressed that someone made pimento cheese from real ingredients and got it to actually taste like fake pimento cheese (I actually hanker for fake pimento cheese occasionally, but know that it is a sin).

Appalled because I'm afraid pimento cheese virgins will come to Supper and leave thinking that this is how pimento cheese is supposed to look, feel, and taste — and I'm not even taking into account Supper's pimento cheese's elevated spiciness, because spicing up pimento cheese is a personal preference that is neither here nor there.

Do you care? No, you don't. You're going to find it yummy, oozy, and cheesy.
The red velvet waffles are topped with an airy, sweet, cream cheese frosting, accentuated with pecans and god-awfully-good, bourbon-soaked cherries. (Wish life was a bowl full of these cherries!) Only waffle in shape, the red velvet waffles are doughy without crispy edges, like cake batter poured in a waffle iron. I would have preferred a tried-and-true, crispy waffle recipe made red and with a bit of cocoa powder thrown in than Supper's more literal interpretation.
Been on a hush puppy kick lately, what with the Southern restaurant revival going on all over the nation, so had to give Supper's a try. Their light, crispy, fried cornmeal nuggets topped with grated Parmesan are great, and are leading the pack of the few I've recently tried in Philly (Cooperage's are misguidedly paired with sweet jam; and Catahoula's are too gritty, especially when served undercooked). I'm still waiting for someone to make hush puppies with diced onions, though, to match my hush puppy traditionalist expectations.

Supper has the creative license to make whatever they like (and it did taste good) how ever they like (that's kind of why it's fun to eat out), and if I want pimento cheese a certain way I should just make it at home (and I do), but my only real concern with this post, since most of y'all don't run into pimento cheese often, is that you trust me when I tell you that pimento cheese normally does not taste or look like what we had for brunch at Supper. That is all.

Signed,
Pimento Cheese Traditionalist

Supper
926 South St, Philadelphia, PA 19147
215-592-8180