Not the best chilaquiles I've ever had, but not the worst either. There's way too much lettuce and an overabundance of sour cream swirls and squiggles on the plate. But the green chile, tart with tomatillos, was requisitely spicy; the corn tortilla chips, scratch-made and flimsy; the eggs softly scrambled; and the chorizo, boldly flavored. In other words, it satisfied my morning craving for fat and fuel. But next time? I'm getting the eggs benedict, which are awesome.
The question is, from whose kitchen will they come?