Adulting is hard. Especially on Sunday mornings, when we wake up smudge-eyed and limboed between the weekend’s bad decisions and Monday’s clamorous alarm clock. Here in Camberville, we deal with it by procrastinating. Delaying the impending need for life re-organization, we trudge down to Trina’s to eat childhood snacks like pizza bagels, pop-tarts, and mac ’n’ cheese while watching cartoons.
Okay, we might act like kids, but we’re still food snobs—which is why Trina’s has reinvented it all. Take the reincarnated bagel bite, sprinkled not in mystery meat cubes but in succulent chunks of bacon and sausage. The pop-tart is more like a homemade Danish, a circulating choice of fruity insides surrounded by buttery puff pastry and topped with generous icing. And then there’s the Croque-Mac-DAMN, a crazy twist on France’s best hangover food. Think eggs and chorizo precariously perched atop a patty of deep fried mac ’n’ cheese, all sandwiched between two slices of Texas toast. Oh, right— and a few springs of arugula to give it some non-yellow color (we are, of course, adults).
We’re also unabashed booze lovers, which is why Trina’s spikes our OJs, Kool-Aids, and chocolate milks with the strongest stuff. As we slug ’em down while waiting for a table, the room gets louder and louder until the bar becomes a full-fledged morning party, nostalgic tunes blasting (e.g., circa-1998 Will Smith). “Don’t be a drag,” reads the T-shirt of one of the bartenders, an accurate proxy for the whole experience. Let your grown-up woes melt away—for today, anyway.
Still not ready for the week? Trina’s does brunch on Mondays, too. It’s the place to be for service industry workers who’ve endured the crazy weekend brunch shifts.
Expect a long wait of unspecified time, but don’t stress. Start drinking at the bar, or leave your phone number with the host and explore Inman Square. (Grab coffee at 1369 or stroll down lovely Fayette Street to Barismo.)
A look around the room reveals the extent of Trina’s owners’ obsession with the “Champagne of Beers.” The slogan seems crazy now, but in the early 20th century most beer was simply carried home from the bar in a bucket. Miller High Life, released in 1903, was sold in a fancy bottle—kinda like Champagne.
Tastes of Trina’s Starlite Lounge (Brunch)
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