I love the mile high city, but I can't say I want skeptical about a biscuit company bearing its name. And why wouldn’t I be? I was a southern girl sitting down to biscuits in a city where I wonder if the altitude even allows them to rise.
Reservations aside, I still had to try the Dahlia on biscuit French toast. It’s a plate piled mile-high with all the good stuff: crumbly biscuits thicker than my mouth is wide, a solid house-made sausage patty, topped with a gooey yolk and drowned in maple syrup. Every ingredient was great, and so many great things in one place make a mouth water in theory. Unfortunately, so many great things in one places makes a stomach nauseous in practice. This picture was taken after I couldn’t stomach any more…it didn’t take very long.
My friend got the regular buttermilk biscuits, which are actually quite good and definitely good enough to make this critical southern girl want to have more nice things to say about this place. But as much as I loved the concept of this place, I can really only say I left more sick than satisfied.
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