People ask me for my favorite breakfast spot before a WSOP session like I’ve got a little black book of hidden gems around the Rio and downtown. I don’t. Most mornings during the Main Event I’m eating whatever’s fastest, sitting wherever’s closest to the gym, thinking about none of it. If you came here for a top-five list of secret diners, I’m going to disappoint you before we even get to the coffee.
The Truth About My “Spots”
Here’s what actually happens. I get up, I go to the gym, and then I eat. That’s the whole routine, and it’s been the routine for years. There’s no ranking system. There’s no place I’m loyal to because of some lucky run I had there in 2019. Food before a tournament isn’t a ritual for me — it’s fuel, and fuel doesn’t need a good story attached to it.
On the road, my sleep schedule already looks nothing like a normal person’s. I’m on poker hours — some nights I’m not going to bed until 6am. So “breakfast” for me might happen at a time most people would call lunch, or later. The idea of a cute little breakfast spot assumes a schedule I mostly don’t keep during a WSOP summer.
What’s Actually On the Plate
I’m not complicated about food. Steak and potatoes, pasta, shrimp, anything seafood — that’s what I gravitate toward wherever I am. It’d honestly be easier to list what I don’t eat than what I do. Tofu’s the one thing I’ve never come around on. I’m not a vegan, and I’m not pretending to be one for a magazine profile.
Before poker, I spent time working in a restaurant group as an accountant, right after I left Deloitte. I was doing the books for other people’s kitchens long before I had any reason to think about my own meals before a tournament. There’s something almost funny about that now — years around restaurants professionally, and my actual pre-game meal is about as unglamorous as it gets.
Why the Routine Matters More Than the Menu
The gym part isn’t optional for me. I like getting there before I sit down at a table, win or lose the day before. It’s less about the workout itself and more about having one thing in the morning that’s fully in my control before I spend twelve hours reacting to other people’s decisions. Once I’m at the table, the downtime between hands is its own kind of maintenance — I’ll meditate, or honestly just nap if I can get away with it, or watch something on my iPad to keep my head from spinning on hands that are already over.
None of that requires a specific restaurant. It requires showing up and doing the same three or four things regardless of what city I’m in or what the schedule looks like that week.
What I’d Tell Someone Grinding Their First WSOP Summer
If you’re heading to Vegas expecting some elevated food scene tied to your tournament schedule, adjust that expectation now.
Consistency Beats Cuisine
Eat something you know sits well with you, at a time that fits your actual sleep pattern, and stop treating it like it needs to be interesting. The WSOP schedule doesn’t care whether your eggs were good. It cares whether you’re at your table on time and thinking clearly by the time cards go in the air.
Simple Isn’t a Compromise
I’ve had the means to eat anywhere I want for over twenty years now, and I still keep it simple most mornings. That’s not modesty. It’s just what works when you’ve got six or seven hours of cards ahead of you and no real interest in feeling sluggish at 2pm on Day 3.
So no, I don’t have a favorite breakfast spot. I’ve got a gym I show up to and a plate I don’t overthink. Everything else about that morning is just getting out the door on time.
