Flying Biscuit Mystery

Flying Biscuit Mystery

FlyingbiscuitFor a lot of people, Flying Biscuit Cafe (corner of 10th and Piedmont) is apparently a Very Big Deal. Every morning, the place is packed. On weekdays, the line to get in stretches down the block, obstructing entry into the neighboring Subway and Smoothie King.

My only question: Why?!?

Before moving to Atlanta, we ate at the Flying Biscuit five times. The service was always marginal at best, and the food was (and still is) bad. The signature biscuits strike me as hard, heavy, and remarkably unappetizing. Clyde, who loves grits, can’t force down more than a spoonful or two from this eatery, and other items (the dreadful oatmeal pancakes, for example) are equally unappealing.

So: why the lines? Are there that many clueless tourists in town each weekend? Are there that many locals who, perhaps out of some twisted, nostalgic longing for inedible home cooking, come back again and again to relive bad breakfasts from their unhappy childhoods?

Seriously: if you’re one of the people standing in line for a Flying Biscuit, drop me a line. Until I hear from you, I’m going to assume that everyone standing outside on a Saturday morning is being paid to do so as some kind of bizarre advertising ploy to ensnare the unwary.

FlyingbiscuitFor a lot of people, Flying Biscuit Cafe (corner of 10th and Piedmont) is apparently a Very Big Deal. Every morning, the place is packed. On weekdays, the line to get in stretches down the block, obstructing entry into the neighboring Subway and Smoothie King.

My only question: Why?!?

Before moving to Atlanta, we ate at the Flying Biscuit five times. The service was always marginal at best, and the food was (and still is) bad. The signature biscuits strike me as hard, heavy, and remarkably unappetizing. Clyde, who loves grits, can’t force down more than a spoonful or two from this eatery, and other items (the dreadful oatmeal pancakes, for example) are equally unappealing.

So: why the lines? Are there that many clueless tourists in town each weekend? Are there that many locals who, perhaps out of some twisted, nostalgic longing for inedible home cooking, come back again and again to relive bad breakfasts from their unhappy childhoods?

Seriously: if you’re one of the people standing in line for a Flying Biscuit, drop me a line. Until I hear from you, I’m going to assume that everyone standing outside on a Saturday morning is being paid to do so as some kind of bizarre advertising ploy to ensnare the unwary.

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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