I woke up criminally early for a Sunday (well, any day, really). Just after 8 a.m., my eyes popped open and my body told me it was time for brunch. Given the morning's single-digit temperatures, of COURSE I would feel the need to venture out of my cozy neighborhood and down to the wind-whipped, leg-numbing expanses of the South Loop. I had to try Yolk.

I arrived at 9:30, just as the brunch rush was really ramping up. The space is big and feels...new. It doesn't have the shabby authenticity of other places I like for brunch. (And too many families, arrrrghhh, car-seated babies made the aisles like an infant minefield!) My friend had snagged the last available booth and waved me over. Our server was slammed with tables and looked like a Fall Out Boy backup dancer but was pleasant enough. He brought me a too-small mug of coffee and an inappropriately huge glass of delicious fresh-squeezed orange juice while I perused the menu.

I'm not huge on eggs (then why on Earth, you ask, would I go to a place called Yolk? Great question) but settled on a veggie skillet with asparagus, spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, zucchini, red potatoes, cheese and two scrambled eggs, browned just to my liking. Passable. My friend had a classic benedict and enjoyed that as well.

Brunch at Yolk: It happened. I won't be back; destination dining has to really be worth it for me, and this was just all right.