The Guilty Pleasure: The B.M.O.C.
Where to Get It: Vovomeena
What it Really Costs: Did you know that fat, by definition, is a concentrated source of energy? So, you might say this plate costs nothing, but it will certainly provide you with a surplus of concentrated energy.
If you've ever shared your living quarters with a young male with a big appetite — maybe a jockish older brother or college roommate — odds are you have probably seen something like the B.M.O.C. before.
The dish — the acronym stands for Big Man On Campus — is one of the "composed" breakfast plates at central Phoenix's hipster-chic breakfast cafe, Vovomeena, and it's so loaded up with protein and carbs, it seems specially designed to quell the ravenous appetite of an adolescent male.
You certainly don't have to be a campus jock to eat the B.M.O.C., but it probably doesn't hurt. Let's just say that the B.M.O.C. is not breakfast for the avocado toast set — more like breakfast for the lumberjack set.
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The first thing you'll probably notice is that the B.M.O.C. is not the prettiest-looking breakfast plate in the house. It's a plate of hefty, protein-heavy, brownish food, with not much in the way of photogenic color or design — no artfully arranged berries, or sunny-looking egg yolks. But prettiness doesn't count for much when the fork meets your mouth, and that's when the B.M.O.C. really shines.
If you dissect the B.M.O.C., working from the bottom up like some kind of geologist working amid delicate strata, you'll find an extra-thick and airy waffle at the base. The waffle arrives already lightly soaked in maple syrup, paired with caramelized slices of green apple, which are so rich and sticky-sweet, they seem half-glued to the plate.
The waffle acts as a sort of fluffy, gold-brown mattress for a mammoth smoked pork chop, which is sliced neatly into two plump halves. The pork is beautifully and cleanly seared, stamped with tangibly dark grill lines, and thick-cut and very juicy. A couple of lightly fried, herb-inflected eggs — ordering them over-easy seems to make the whole plate even more messy and delicious — rest easily over the thick slabs of pork. And, because all of that is not enough, there is also a Portuguese doughnut on the side. The big, grizzled, fried pastry tastes of clean oil and buttery flour, somewhat akin to a sopapilla, and a dusting of powdered sugar seems to melt right into the crisp dough.
On the plate, there is enough protein, carbs, and fat to stave off hunger for hours, or possibly test the limits of your will. The B.M.O.C. is not in the contemporary mode of light, hipstery breakfasts, and that turns out to be a big part of its charm: It is a disarmingly un-trendy breakfast plate, a heap of delicious foods thrown together for your pleasure — so good it will probably bring out the hungry young jock inside of you.