tl;dr: the pulled pork tater tot hash is worth driving to Bellingham for. From wherever you’re starting. The biscuits and gravy is $7.50 and therefore a fine palate cleanser to order for the table.
The conversations we have surrounding food are based on the kinds of questions that are tough to answer. The kinds that are almost philosophical in nature. What’s your favorite food? Favorite restaurant? Favorite meal ever? If you could eat only one thing forever, what would it be? What’s your death row meal? Your desert island food? If you could eat a meal with five people, living or dead, who would you choose?
Most of the time, these questions are essentially impossible to answer. Even when you come up with an answer that feels right, you still don’t feel like you’re doing the question justice. There’s always that waffley thought in the back of your head, that wishy washy ehhhh but maybe I haven’t fully thought this through. Ever since eating at Homeskillet in Bellingham, I can confidently say that I know what my favorite meal ever is. The pulled pork tater tot hash cannot be beat.
I’ve eaten a $120 6 ounce steak, more than once. I’ve been graced with the presence of the Salty’s buffet, and even eaten there for free. I once had a meal with two friends, four courses, cooked just for us by a chef on her night off. I’ve had duck confit in Paris, Thai from Lotus in Vegas, and Di Fara pizza in Brooklyn. I’m not saying all of this just to brag (though, damn, looking back on my food life ain’t too shabby), I’m giving my resume, to show that I know the gravity of what I’m claiming here.
There is nothing like this dish. You think, when you hear the phrase “pulled pork tater tot hash” that you have an idea of what you’re in for. You think that you can probably figure out how these ingredients work together enough to venture a guess as to how it’s going to taste. You can’t.
The guy behind the grill at Homeskillet has invented something that every other pork dish, and every other tater tot dish, wishes it could be. The blackened pork, potato, and onion combines together to make something that is so much greater than the sum of its parts, it’s actually sort of unsettling. You take a bite, and then you sit back, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage driving to Bellingham every weekend for brunch. You wonder, how the hell do you order anything else from this place? How is this not the most talked about dish on the face of the planet?
I don’t know. But I’m doing my part by telling all of you. Take a mini road trip. Drive up north. Go to Homeskillet, and get this breakfast. Then lament all the years you spent living without it.