Why Sweet Tomatoes Is of the Devil
When I head out to Christian's Tailgate or Lankford Grocery I know full well what I am going to get. I also realize that probably every trip to Beaver's is going to end up with me ordering something that will add a pound or seven to my waistline. Then there is Sweet Tomatoes. Don't get me wrong, I love the salad buffet bonanza and wish there were more locations closer to town, but I always think I am going to eat healthy-ish and then never do. Oh, well. It really does taste so good eating so bad there.
I know it isn't cool to really like a chain - blah, blah, blah. I unapologetically crave most of the offerings at Sweet Tomatoes. My last trip was on a Sunday morning around 11:30, when they still had the weekend breakfast offerings out amongst the lemon chicken orzo soup and meaty chili on the hot side. I first filled up a plate of some nice-looking greens and beans and dropped that off at the table. I then headed over to grab another plate and frankly couldn't stop myself. I piled it with zucchini frittata, breakfast pizza, biscuits and gravy and a cinnamon biscuit. What salad?
The frittata was tasty and the pizza was better than I had hoped, but both biscuits were tremendous. The creamy gravy had chunks of sausage and bacon in it, was flecked with pepper and fit perfectly with the light biscuits. The cinnamon variety, my "breakfast dessert," was one of the better things I have ever put in my mouth. The warm, moist, biscuit filled with cinnamon chips and covered with a sugary glaze was magic and evil all at once. Satan himself must prepare them. Cinnabon ain't got nuttin' on those biscuits.
I will go back to Sweet Tomatoes with the same intentions as ever. But maybe next time, I'll just skip to the hot side first, so I don't waste the salad and dirty up more dishes.
Get the Food & Drink Newsletter
Our weekly guide to Houston dining includes food news and reviews, as well as dining events and interviews with chefs and restaurant owners.