We left our secret location looking forward to a relaxing Sunday brunch. We were hoping that The Whip would provide us with some down time before the rest of our busy day.
The Whip is a busy, trendy restaurant/pub during most of it open hours. Why would it be any different during brunch time? I don't know the answer, but it is different, very different, too different.
At brunch time the Whip becomes somewhat like a daycare. It fills with uncontrollable children and the parents who let them scream.
It's hard to enjoy your $9 waffles with berry compote and whipped cream with a $3 side of bacon, which is what I had, and $9 chorizo hash with yams and potatoes, what Dave ate, while children are screaming and bouncing up and down on the benches and chairs.
The staff and customers without little bundles of joy are saints at this restaurant/pub. How the wait staff put up with working in an environment similar to the ball room at McDonald's I will never know. They are better people than us, that's for sure.
I hope that the children next to us enjoyed there waffles, minus the berry compote and whipped cream, because they made it practically impossible for me to enjoy mine.
When will we return to the Whip? When the parents roll their strollers to MickyD's down the street. Which is a shame because in between screaming toddlers and the crying twins, during the eye of the storm, we were able to enjoy a few bits of food, and it was good.