Making a delicious meal out of an egg is a great test of a chef’s or home cook’s culinary skill set. Fitting neatly inside the palm of one’s hand, these oval spheres don’t look formidable. But everyone seems to have at least one acquaintance with a profound aversion to eating them. One bad experience can turn a person against them—when a late-night diner serves them up gray on a plate, or when the uncooked chalaza stares back like the unraveling eye of an angry ghost. When I order a Benedict, my eggs better be poached hard or they’re going back to the kitchen.
In her collection of essays, An Omelette and a Glass of Wine, esteemed food writer Elizabeth David recorded a much-sought-after egg recipe made famous by the French innkeeper and chef, Madame Poulard. “Here is the recipe for the omelette: I break some good eggs into a bowl, I beat them well, I put a good piece of butter in the pan, I throw the eggs into it, and I shake it constantly.” Many breakfast spots seem unable to transform un oeuf as simply and as elegantly as Poulard once did.
Despite the name, O2 Eatery is not an oxygen bar, but rather a new brunch destination with cooks cracking eggs by the dozens. The O2 owners, who once owned nearby Sumo Sushi on San Pablo Avenue, moved into the Delirama space on Solano Avenue—and the inside is unrecognizable. Gone are the 1970s tchotchkes, the diorama made of yarn, the open kitchen permeating the air with grease from the fat fryer.
Closing off the kitchen from diners completely altered the sonic ambiance. It’s peaceful now, nearly tranquil. A music soundtrack is present but recessive, like white noise soothing someone dreamless towards a deep and satisfying sleep. The stress of waiting in line to order also vanished in favor of table service.
The décor consists of an array of carefully chosen greens, tasteful greens that Joanna Gaines might even have sanctioned. From subway tiles to artificial plant life to accent colors on the walls, Mother Nature is the benevolent hostess and presiding spirit summoned there to share the Earth’s marvelous bounty with the customers. Accordingly, egg dishes fill up the entire menu, cholesterol counts be damned. There are breakfast sandwiches on brioche buns, omelets, scrambles, eggs any style! and Benedicts. A goddess breakfast bowl ($22) stands out as a vegetarian option, if one nixes the grilled chicken breast.
Our table bravely ventured into the eggy territory of omelets ($17-19), scrambles ($18-20) and a plate of that new-fangled trending breakfast dessert, the croffle ($12). Everyone tucked into their dishes with enthusiasm. The O2 kitchen had thoroughly beaten and blended every yolk and egg white together until they were reincarnated as bright yellow amorphous shapes, warm and entirely edible.
The pleasing, pungent scent of garlic wafted up from my spinach-and-cheese omelet plate. On closer inspection, the garlic seemed to emanate from a batch of halved potatoes. Plow, located on Potrero Hill in San Francisco, also makes potatoes that aren’t made as a half-assed afterthought. One of their not-so-secret ingredients is a pricey rice-bran oil. I suspect, but didn’t get confirmation, that O2 uses a similar oil to achieve the same degree of golden crispness. O2 also lightly drizzles a chimichurri across the potatoes for color and a bite of spice.
The croffle was a misstep designed to appeal to children or adults suffering from killer sweet-tooth syndrome. Last month, I ate a croffle in San Carlos that had a yeasty rise to it. Yes, the croissant was compressed to within an inch of its life, but it did taste like a hybrid. O2’s croffle is flat, airless and drowning fathoms deep in a housemade whipped cream. One of the badly behaved Salts or Gloops from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory would snarf these croffles right down without a tablespoon of remorse.
O2 Eatery, open every day from 8am to 3pm. 1746 Solano Ave., Berkeley. instagram.com/o2.eatery.
Editor’s note: This article has been corrected to reflect that O2 Eatery’s owners no longer own Sumo Sushi, having sold it some time ago; and that their potato sauce is a chimichurri.
