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POPSTROKE

BarTenders Eatery

Breakfast
Tacos

Served with breakfast potatoes

Team-building, they called it. A morning off from the office, a putter in every hand and the boss in our foursome, which nobody wanted.

It was late June, half past ten, the sun already serious. The boss turned out to be terrible. Wonderfully, gloriously terrible. On hole 4, a short downhill putt, maybe four feet, he hit it with such force it rolled across the green, off the slope and into the next zip code. He looked at us. We looked at him. Then he started laughing, and the whole quarter changed.

After the front nine he marched us to the patio and ordered for the table, promising the best breakfast tacos of our careers.

Flour tortillas, soft and folded, holding egg and cheese. Bacon. Onion relish, sweet and tangy. A drizzle of avocado lime ranch, cool and creamy, and then the Sriracha, a red streak of heat that wakes you up faster than any meeting ever has. Breakfast potatoes on the side, which disappeared in a matter of seconds.

I watched our accountant, a quiet woman, take one bite and say, "Oh." Just that. "Oh." It said everything.

We did not win any awards that morning. Nobody shot par. But on Monday, the boss came in with the scorecard taped to his office door, his 9 on hole 4 circled twice in red.

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