Serafina's Sunday Jazz Brunch

Where: Serafina Osteria & Enoteca
2043 Eastlake Avenue East (Eastlake)
(206) 323-0807

Time of Entry: Sunday at around noon (Sunday Jazz Brunch is 11 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.)

Level of hangover: This is a button-down-shirt-touched-by-a-hot-iron-on-a Sunday kind of place. A bleary-eyed hangover might just get frowned upon.

Staff's level of hangover: Nada. The staff is wide-eyed and chipper. (And very happy with their recently completed kitchen remodel. It's a rather pleasant space, but the living room decor is unchanged.)

Prescriptions: So what exactly is an Italian brunch? Not so far from what you might expect. Eggy dishes made with Italian ingredients, in Italian. One: an egg scramble with prosciutto, peas, and creme fraiche (OK, only partially Italian at that). But the eggs, in this dish and the Borsellino (less elegantly described as poached eggs in ham baskets) were both perfectly cooked. The poached eggs were richly viscous and only ever so slightly runny. Sides of potatoes with the eggs and ham provided the requisite starch to grease to protein ratio.

Hair of the Dog: A generous glass of the house white (yes, really) fit the mood of the place. And accompanied the ham baskets quite nicely, surprisingly enough.

Do you really want to have jazz with your brunch? No, not so much, really. Especially if you've got some self-generated pounding going on. When the electric guitar and sax took a break, we spotted an iTunes set-up behind a screen. The preset playlist sufficed, actually. Even the better-dressed tables were talking over the live mood-music.

Success of the Soak: The food was great, if a bit pricey. A classic date place if ever there was one, I'd rather go here for the night before than the morning after.

My only complaint: Their garden patio (equipped with heat lamps) was not yet open.

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Soak It Up: Geraldine's Counter

Apothecary: Geraldine's Counter, 4872 Rainer Ave. S., 723-2080 COLUMBIA CITY

Entry Time: 10 a.m. Saturday

Level of Hangover: (1-10 scale 10 being a paralyzing head thumper): Thankfully, the marathon binges from college are long gone but gone, but unfortunately, so is my tolerance for alcohol. I wouldn’t categorize last night as a bender, but three different social functions took their toll. I’d give it a three.

Level of Waitstaff Hangover: Everyone seems to be pretty cheerful here and the place is packed. Despite the customers, nobody’s getting grumpy and although a few eyes are a bit on the puffy side, I’d guess that most of the staff probably stayed home last night.

Prescriptions: The bacon egg and arugula sandwich lacks the necessary grease to sop up any remaining alcohol — surprising for a dish that contains both aioli and bacon. This place seems to cater more towards people who are looking for a peaceful mid morning start to the day, not boozy stumblers still battling last night’s demons. That being said, the hash browns, a hangover staple, are some of the best I’ve ever had in a restaurant.

My companions enjoyed their dishes as well although Jake’s opinion doesn’t really count: He’s on the wagon and had lunch at 10 a.m. — a BLT. Brett on the other hand, who can’t even find the wagon, went with the hangover staple: biscuits, gravy, eggs over medium, hash browns, bacon on the side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Brett’s scientific in his critique: “Eggs are over medium — which is difficult to find in a restaurant — and the hashbrowns were crunchy. Usually you just get hash," he said.

Hair of the dog: Coffee as soon as you sit down. That’s important. I was tempted to swipe a Bloody Mary as it passed us on a waiter’s platter because it looked incredible. Unfortunately, I had plans Saturday that probably wouldn’t have gone through with alcohol in my system. It’s in the mental notes though, and next time I have to sop up a mid morning headache, I’ll remember that Bloody Mary.

Success of the Soak: Pretty good. The portions were large but not stupid and the staff was friendly but left us alone. The wait, however, was about a half hour and the prices are a little stiff. Not bad overall, and I’ll be back. Saturday morning breakfast is one of my absolute favorite parts of the week and a couple of hours later, I felt whole again. It was a beautiful day, a Saturday and I had few plans for the weekend. Overall, a great start.

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Soak It Up: Smarty Pants

Apothecary: Smarty Pants, 6017 Airport Way S., 762-4777 GEORGETOWN

Time of Entry: Saturday, 10:30 a.m.

Level of Hangover (1-10 scale, with 10 being a paralyzing head-thumper): 8. My companion and I got destroyed watching the Dusty 45s at the Tractor the previous night, a predictably boozy excursion that was preceded by a predictably boozy excursion to the Salmon Bay Eagles, which was preceded by yet another predictably boozy happy hour at SamBar. Keep smilin', keep shinin' — that's what Fridays are for.

Level of waitstaff hangover 6, with a margin of error of two points either way. Georgetownites all seem to be: (a) in their thirties, (b) perpetually haggard, and (c) very functional, very heavy drinkers. So there aren't really any sore thumbs.

Prescriptions: Smarty Pants is a sports bar. Not just any sports bar, but a sports bar that regularly telecasts motorcyle racing on a gigantic, retractable screen in its dining room. And that's it: no baseball, no basketball, no football — just motorcycle racing. So suffice it to say, they dance to the beat of their own drummer here, with a Southwestern-influenced menu that follows suit. Witness the Tex Hex: a bed of chili topped with scrambled eggs, sour cream, cheese and jalapenos. Or the Troublemaker Pile-Up: grilled chicken and onions topped with Monterey Jack and bacon, and served over scrambled eggs and hash browns. By comparison, the dish I ordered, Eggs in a Basket (eggs fried into the center of toast, with beans and 'browns on the side), was downright traditional. But still, I've yet to see it on another menu other than my mother's when I was six, and biting into this mashed-up-based-up plate of nostalgia transported me back to a place in my life when alcohol wasn't a consideration.

Hair of the Dog: While this wonderful little establishment is the birthplace of the Bacon Martini (exactly as hideous and hilarious as it sounds), best to treat your queasy stomach to the old standby: the Bloody Mary. Here, with all the veggies and seasoning they add to the Vodka and tomato juice, it's like a meal unto itself — or at least a helpful, delicious appetizer.

Success of the Soak: Duh: Awesome. This is a restaurant-bar run by drinkers for drinkers. It's a Saturday morning match made in heaven.

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Soak It Up: Eggs Cetera

The Texas Omelet with all the fixings.

Rehab Center: Eggs Cetera's Blue Star Cafe and Pub, 4512 Stone Way N., 548-0345. Brunch served Saturday and Sunday all day.

Self-committal time: 11:24 a.m.

Addict Intake area and time: Tolerable for a busy Sunday morn, and there was free coffee where you say goodbye to family.

Last Relapse: I'll be of age in 292 days...and let's just leave it at that.

The wait staff's last relapse: Given that this eatery is less than two miles from UW's Frat Row, the young servers' last relapse had to have been last night. In fact, with the bar already open, they could have started before I even arrived. Everyone I came in contact with had to be nursing a hangover. It must have hurt so bad even to hear their own voice, given that I probably heard a grand total of 20 words between the hostess, waitress, and bus girl. (How do you manage to take an order by just grunting "Hi?") You could practically smell last night's alcohol in the air—or is that the eggs?

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Soak It Up: The Moxie M.O.

Moxie's Frangelico French Toast, $11. (Photo: Bill Molloy)

The evidence: Moxie, 530 First Ave N., 283-6614. Brunch served Sat.-Sun. 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Blood-alcohol content: Zero on a bright and sunny Saturday morning, with a half-dozen ruddy college types milling around the front door before 10 o’clock opening. Nobody’s even smoking. A healthy crew.

Staff sobriety: Did we come here to ask personal questions? Do we even care? Not so long as the coffee is poured with a steady hand. And it is. The police are not called.

The rap sheet: The LQA is a tough, scummy hood when the sun comes up. Until last month, local brunch standbys were Ozzie’s, where the sidewalk is ankle-deep in cigarette butts and hardened gum, and Peso’s, which is more hygienic but always smells of tequila and Axe body spray. Moxie is the new addition to the brunch lineup, already a class act compared to these neighborhood hooligans.

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Soak It Up: The Dish

Apothecary: Dish Cafe, 4358 Leary Way NW, 782-9985, Tue.-Sat. 7 a.m. to 1:45 p.m., Sun. 8 a.m. to 1:45 p.m.

Time of Entry: Saturday mid-morning

Level of Hangover (1-10 scale, with 10 being a paralyzing head-thumper): 4. Last night was one of those alcothons, a lot of drinking but spread out over a long period of time and interrupted at regular intervals by walking or food. So we weren't exactly in top form, but the headache was minimal. (Though after watching the 1978 Star Wars Holiday Special the night before, we were experiencing a whole different kind of pain.)

Level of waitstaff hangover Things move fast at this very popular, but wee diner. So if they're a little under the weather, the service doesn't show it. Though a few puffy, dark-rimmed eyes look like they could have used a little more sleep.

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Soak It Up: Filipino Brunch at Kawali Grill

Photo: tusilog, with ketchup

Apothecary: Kawali Grill, 5300 Rainier Ave. S., 723-6179, www.kawaligrill.com. HILLMAN CITY (which is essentially South Columbia City). Open for breakfast 8:30-noon on weekends.

Time of Entry: Sunday morning.

Level of Hangover (1-10 scale, with 10 being a paralyzing head-thumper): 1. I forgot I was supposed to prepare for this meal by carving out yet another chunk of my liver with a whiskey scalpel.

How hungover does waitstaff look? I think the three women working the dining room made the same mistake I did. Sobriety all around.

Prescriptions: Half of Kawali Grill’s breakfast menu is traditional American, half Filipino. We mostly went Filipino with tapsilog (steak with eggs and fried rice) and tusilog (tocino, or marinated pork, with eggs and fried rice), as well as a spinach-feta omelet for the veg in the group. I went in all excited to order spamsilog (guess), but Kawali Grill turns out to be too classy to serve Spam. I settled for a lumpia omelet, with a glass of extra-sweet kalamansi limeade on the side. Oh, and a side of longanisa, a plump, fuschia-colored (really), sweet sausage. You can order it with eggs and fried rice as longsilog.

Hair of the Dog: Mimosas and mangosas.

Success Rate: Kawali Grill opened last year serving mostly American food, with a few Filipino entrees, but the longer it stays open, the more Filipino dishes show up. Most of the Filipino families in the restaurant were ordering fresh lumpia (crepes with peanut sauce) or bowls of stew off the specials insert on the table.

Although I can’t think of a more potent headache sponge slash liver tonic than kare kare (oxtail-peanut stew), not everyone can face its anchovy-paste aroma after a boozy night. Not sure whether you’ll think this is a good thing or a bad thing, but the brunches were big on meat but not grease. Plus, all the eggs were cooked right, the tocino was tender and sweetly marinated, and the lumpia omelet didn’t have chopped-up egg rolls in it but instead, roasted pork and cabbage. And orange slices for garnish! A class act. Not that that’s a bad thing.

Photo: lumpia omelet, with ketchup and egg-roll dipping sauce

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Soak it Up: 22 Doors

22 Doors' Exotic Mushroom and Goat Cheese Omelet + requisite beverage pairing.

Soak Station of Choice: 22 Doors, 324-6406, 405 15th Ave. E., CAPITOL HILL

Time of Entry: noon

Level of Hangover: Low, due to the need for recovering from that nasty crud that’s been going around. Still, brunch needed to soak up a different breed of toxins.

Waitstaff's Level of Hangover: Waitstaff was chipper, but the cooks were feuding, apparently. One sheepish busboy informed us that's why there was no brunch special on this particular Saturday. Perhaps raw nerves due to too much fun the night before.

Prescriptions: Extra friendly staff. And you don't have to wait. (Seriously.) Brunch on Capitol Hill and you sit immediately. Your hangover loves that. There’s a small, but soak-friendly selection of goodies like buttermilk pancakes, served with real maple syrup, an 'exotic' mushroom and goat cheese omelet, complete with chevre and creme fraiche, and the Croque Madame. If your hangover is calling for more of a post-breakfast fix, fear not— 22 Doors also has grilled cheese, a crab melt, BLT, burger or veggie burger, all served with (thank God) salty, greasy fries.

My companion, up from PDX, enjoying one "toothsome" bloody mary.

Hair of the Dog: 22 Doors has your number on this one— a clever menu item, "The Barbs of Rover," includes two pancakes, two slices of bacon, two eggs and a mimosa or bloody from the bar.

Success of the Soak: The place filled up around 1 p.m. but never got so busy that we felt rushed to leave. Good thing 'cause we needed at least an hour to sip down those bloody marys, for they were giant, spicy and filled with veggies. And the food did the trick too. The Croque Madame, which was served open face on a slice of grainy Essential Baking Co. bread, may have been nontraditional, but it was tasty. And my companion's omelet, the one with the goat cheese and mushrooms, was full of flavor without being too rich. We stumbled out into the drizzly afternoon with just the right combination of starch, grease and vodka to make the body feel better be it beleaguered by the night before, or the common cold.

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Soak It Up: Newport Bay

Apothecary: Newport Bay, 425-827-2722, 10426 Northrup Wy., KIRKLAND

Time of Entry: Noonish Sunday, after Mass at Holy Family Kirkland, which is KING-5 weatherman Jeff Renner's parish. The priest there delivered a sermon about football and the devil. He also asked the congregation to buck up for a multi-million dollar capital campaign.

Level of Hangover (1-10 scale, with 10 being a paralyzing head-thumper): 2. I didn't drink Saturday night on account of the fact that I feel like I owe it to my grandparents not to be hungover in their presence, but there was still some residual grogginess from a Friday night spent watching my uncle's band at the Little Red Hen.

How hungover does waitstaff look? Not at all. What we've got here are God-fearing young suburbanites serving God-fearing old suburbanites.

Prescriptions: Strawberry Belgian Waffle, eggs, bacon, smoked salmon benedict, southwest chicken omelette, breakfast buffet appeteasers and dessert (free with any of the aforementioned entrees).

Hair of the Dog: All-you-can-drink champagne at $3 per bottomless glass.

Success of the Soak: My grandparents are old. Really old. At Newport Bay, they fit right in. Situated off 520 near Lake Washington's northeastern shore, Newport Bay, with its flat, sprawling floor plan, inoffensive decor, and white wicker chairs, looks as though it's been airlifted from Boca Raton. While the service is friendly and attentive, the pace of the establishment fits the crowd: slow. That's not a slight; Newport Bay is set up so you won't want to leave.

If you so desired, you could ride that bottomless champagne deal all the way to Hammered Heights, just as you could ride the complimentary before-and-after fruit 'n pastry buffet all the way to Couch Potatosville. Such one-and-done gluttony is sort of the point at Newport Bay, just as it should be the point of any proper brunch, a special meal that, as strictly defined, is in short supply 'round these parts. So, too, are nonagenarians — but not at Newport Bay.

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Soak it Up: Monsoon Brunch

Photo by Adriana Grant

Apothecary: Monsoon
615 19th Ave E
Seattle, WA 98112
(206) 325-2111

Time of Entry: this past Sunday at around noon (brunch served on weekends only)

Level of Hangover: Minimal

Prescriptions: Wandering between the three menus: daikon cakes from the dim sum menu, pork belly with steamed buns from the Modern Vietnam menu, and from the colonial menu, chanterelles in scrambled eggs.

Hair of the Dog: A mimosa served in a fluted champagne glass: lovely, and perfectly not too sweet. The only other alcoholic elixir on offer was a glass of J. Laurens Brut Cremant.

Success of the Soak: The daikon cakes offered a deliciously starchy, Asian take on hash browns, richly browned and almost sweet. The steamed buns arrived open faced, fat slices of Berkshire pork belly laid across the pale buns like extra-wide bacon. Instead of concealing these slabs of porcine beauty inside a traditional closed steamed bun, these buns unabashedly bragged about their contents. Pork belly: Just the about perfect fatty food to heal what ails you. Touched with a bit of sweet hoisin and topped with pickled cucumber, these buns were delectable.

My companion's chanterelle scramble was also delish, with the mushrooms cut both tiny and left whole, to permeate the dish with their flavor.

My only complaint: the only black tea on the menu was the barn-smelling pu-erh, which, had I actually been hung over, would have been rather unwelcome.

As the couple at the next table remarked to their server: Can we make reservations for every day next week? My belly would be all too happy to comply with this plan, hung over or not.

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