I cannot emphasize how massive this thing is. And how awesome.

I just had the most incredible breakfast at Parish on N. Highland Ave in Inman Park.  I also can’t remember when I ate this much.  I had the Eggs Poulet:

Eggs Poulet – buttermilk biscuit, Creole fried chicken breast, poached eggs, andouille sawmill gravy, pontalba hash

Oh. My. God.  Fantastic.  I’m conflicted about this meal, though, because as incredible as it was, it was just too much.  The fried chicken was large enough to serve alone as my dinner.  The waitress looked at me with concern when I asked if anyone ever finished the whole thing.

Unfortunately, I have a complete inability not to eat things that are in front of me (James can testify to this).  I simply cannot stop shoveling things into my gut.

I ate this entire thing, and I feel like I have been beaten.  About half way through, la novia looked at me and laughed.  “You look stoned,” she said.  I was slumped in the chair with a vacant stare, my eyes drooping and my mouth half open trying to collect myself.  I felt like a prize fighter between rounds, trying to rally for the bell.

I have lots more to say about Parish – the market below is great, the interior architecture is fantastic, the wait staff is great, the history of the building is interesting – but I’m still recovering from the breakfast.