I Thought of a Good Title

But then I forgot. Maybe, if it comes back to me, I'll fix it.

Today I decided I needed to get out of Dodge. So I packed up my thick-ass stack of papers to grade, citysearched a place to eat, and drove to Santa Cruz. Of course, I forgot to bring the sticky note that had the addresses on it (it's still sitting right here at my elbow), but I sorta remembered the cross street of the breakfast place I was looking for. So, being in a winging it frame of mind, I took off in what I though was the right direction and lo and behold -- I found it!

Well, for a place that is supposed to have long lines, there weren't any at 9:30 on Veterans's Day. Fine with me. I ordered a cup of decaf (have to) and Mike's Mess. Mike's Mess is a scramble of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and homefries topped with cheese, sour cream, tomatoes, and scallions. Sounded delicious.

The coffee arrived -- bleugh. They have an old-skool coffee pot system, and this decaf had definitely been sitting on the burner too long. Invest in some air pots people!

But then breakfast came. Glorious breakfast. It's been awhile since I've had a good breakfast, and this qualified. The plate was covered with a pile of food and two good scoops of sour cream. The only complaint I have about the Mess is that the taters were overseasoned (aka: too much salt) and also contained tumeric. Don't get me wrong, tumeric belongs in many, many things, just not in breakfast potatoes. It's a trend I've noticed out here: a curried potatoes for breakfast habit; I don't buy it. (Well, obviously I do since I paid for my breakfast, but you get my drift.)

Now, on the side of the plate was a piece of bread sliced in half. White sourdough, to be exact. It was lovingly toasted and sandwiched between the halves was a scoop of butter (yes, butter). I spread the butter over the toast (with plenty left over in case I really wanted to destroy my arteries), and took a bite -- and landed in heaven. The bread was dense and tender at the same time. The bread wasn't too sour, which is more to my liking than the inverse (converse? contrapositive? who remembers their geometry?). I could eat that bread forever. I do love white bread. Yes, I do.

The menu also boasted some sourdough pancakes that looked delish, as well as the usual eggs and bacon fare. I will definitely need to go back.

And to add to my pleasure was the crowd of eaters. There was an undergrad couple next to me (it was early on in their dating life) and an older professor (or math teacher) across the way. I watched in fascination as he ate a decidedly snotty egg. It was so slippery he could barely get it on his fork and stay there. He was not a break-the-yolk kind of man. I was impressed and slightly grossed out when he finally got it in his mouth. I think that egg whites should be cooked all the way through, although the yolk is allowed to remain runny. All in all, good people watching.

Then I went and say on the pier and graded a few papers. It was good.