The food was quite buttery, and for the most part, tasty. They had white/brown/rye and multigrain toast. I got the hungry man breakfast, and it turned out I’m not hungry man enough for them. The bacon was good and not grilly-tasting. The hashbrowns were chunklets and buttery but not too flavourful. They needed a splash of the Tobasco they gave us.
The breakfast links were butterflied on the grill but still had chunks of gristle and yuk in them. The eggs were as eggs are, but the pancakes were what defeated me. Emphasis on the CAKE, these tasted like Betty Crocker white cake poured into disk form. Surprisingly, they were excellent with the bitter marmalade, but on their own were entirely too sweet for me. With the Ukrainian breakfast, the perogies were great, fried with onions, and the kielbasa came as a long wiener sliced in half with hot mustard on the side. Nice touch.
The atmosphere in Yorko’s is as weird as the backward R in their sign. (It’s not weird! It’s a capital Ya. Leif) It was a smattering of iconic Ukrainia like dance outfits, and bit of comedy like the “Ukrainian chain saw” (see picture). The rest of it was Goldeyes memorabilia, dollar store erradicia and terrifying Christmas displays like the animatronic singing Santa (which seriously disturbed me, but kids seemed to like it).
In addition, they sported north-end style coffee service, where you serve yourself the bottom-rung Wellington coffee. We’ve had good Wellington coffee and bad (we’re looking at you, Polonez!). The placemats were faux alligator skin, and there was a TV on the wall blaring the entire time. The nice chandeliers topped of the varied decorating motif. Also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a menu in a duotang before.
Yorko’s was greasy and strange, but good. Definitely the best fare for a couple kilometres around.
