No matter how much you enjoy the heat of summer, there are some things about fall in the Beach Cities that you have to appreciate. The beach views are as pleasant as ever, but there are no planes towing banners to disturb the serenity. Even better, you can plan a trip down Highland Avenue with some assurance that there will be a place to park, and when you pull up at the Local Yolk, there will be little or no line. The place reverts to what it has always been – a locals’ joint where most customers are on a first-name basis.
I’m not one of the regulars, but the welcome is always friendly anyway and usually prompt, though the place is occasionally understaffed as lunch rolls around. Any momentary delay gives you time to look at the specials board in case something has actually changed – some items seem to be so permanent that they might as well be chiseled in as written with chalk. Someday I intend to actually order the oat waffle, but I keep getting distracted by the other items on the menu. At a place that is named for eggs I tend to order them, and so far it has always worked.
After not visiting for a few years I stopped in and decided to explore the menu. While scanning for unique items I noticed the homemade jalapeno hash, which sounded both interesting and dangerous. Both turkey hash and corned beef hash are also available, and I was conflicted about which to have. I ended up ordering the corned beef and a side of the jalapeno, which was a good idea. The two flavors made for a great breakfast – the vegetarian jalapeno hash blended cheese, potato, onion, and a mild shot of chili pepper, and the corned beef was the classic. Both hashes were served pancake-style so they had a crisp exterior, and along with the soft poached egg made a great fine and varied start to the day.
On another day I tried a Southwest breakfast burrito, expecting that something that referenced New Mexico would offer a shot of spice to start the day. It didn’t, though the mix of ground beef, scrambled eggs, hashed browns, bell pepper, corn, and black beans was pretty good. Some good salsa was offered on the side, and I’ll ask for this to be mixed inside the burrito if I order it again.
Omelets are what made the Local Yolk’s reputation, and I also tried a Manhattan Beach omelette, which was filled with jack cheese and topped with crumbled bacon, sautéed mild green chili and a dollop of guacamole on top to complete the flavor – guacamole, melted cheese, and bacon are often blended in bar snacks with good reason, because it’s a combination you just can’t stop eating. The fluffy egg pancake that enfolded the cheese was a launching pad for the other flavors, and it was expertly made. I wasn’t quite as delighted with the hashed browns, which were a bit overdone, but I was there at the end of the breakfast rush and they may have been on the back of the grill for a while. The homemade biscuit that I selected for my bread was very light, but it would have been nice if it had been heated so that butter would melt.
Having noticed that any spicy flavors here were muted, I decided to order the two zippiest things on the menu when I came back for lunch: a cup of chili and a blackened chicken sandwich. Unfortunately both were quite timid; the turkey chili didn’t even have a hint of red pepper, and tasted like a turkey stew that had some onions and cheese on top. The blackened chicken was an enormous chunk of meat with a very moderate dusting of spices, served on a burger bun with a chipotle sauce that had some smoky flavor but not much heat. Mexican hot sauce was available if I wanted to kick up the heat, but that’s a different kind of heat from a proper Cajun blackened dish. If my server had asked whether I wanted it mild or spicy I might have gotten what I was there for, but he didn’t – a curious lapse from a place where the service is usually friendly and communicative.
It may be argued that coming to the Local Yolk for spicy food missed the point of the place – it’s a place for diner breakfasts, simple sandwiches and burgers, and the old fashioned hometown atmosphere. I’d agree with that, as the greatest pleasures of the place are the laid back vibe, local characters who call the place home, and the big, tasty egg dishes. Now that the tourists are gone we can all reclaim the place that has been serving Manhattan Beach mountains of eggs and tanker trucks of coffee since what seems like the dawn of time.
The Local Yolk is at 3414 Highland Avenue in Manhattan Beach. Open daily 6:30 a.m. – 2:30 p.m., street parking only, wheelchair access good, no alcohol. Some vegetarian items. Menu at thelocalyolk.com, phone 310-546-4407.
