Stop a while and enjoy an egg

linq:Red River Cafe’s Facebook

I am not, by my nature, a morning person. I have recently acquired a “baby,” the 2009 model, which asserts that I am now to become one.  I certainly do not mind, but I do miss my status as a frequent patron of night spots. Solace, though, exists, in the form of several really excellent morning spots. I shall endeavor to speak on the subject of them.

My first experience with Red River Cafe was, as seems appropriate now, years and years ago. I was lost, the place isn’t on Red River Street, and the booths are a little small for my girthy taste. Whether my business that day was fell or not, I have attached dire overtones to it, although the details remain sketchy. I was young, and did not yet understand that this is almost the textbook definition of charm.

The corner table I chose today, for I remain a man of size, and the booths still run a little small.

I have, in my life, always had difficulty identifying charm, usually until the opportunity is so far gone as to make the point completely moot. I have been lucky to be allowed by the universe to take a moment and appreciate the really great place that is the Red River Cafe.

If it will be of any benefit to you, please, allow me to give you what pointers my massive ego and scant wisdom will allow.

Red River Cafe is not a place to go when you just want to grab a quick burger and run. Because the staff is composed of nice people and because the chef is willing, they will indulge you in this desire, but you will be missing the point. It is not a place to go get your breakfast burrito fix and dash to class, although they make a fine pair of burritos, and you do have class in, like, six minutes. This, too, is not the way to enjoy the place.

Budget your time. Allow a solid hour. Sit at a table and read your Chronicle or Statesman or Times or Post or Tribune or Journal or whichever other of the Old Form Papers still exist in this digital age, or if you must, your online datastreaming whatever thingummy, in the morning, and savor your eggs, in all their glorious splendor, or your burger or your pancakes or your taco. Order by placing a blind finger at random on the menu, and rest assured, you will receive food and you will be allowed to observe the cadence of the morning. Sit at your skinny booth and watch the light move across the counter. Drink your coffee and ask for refills. Do not be in a hurry.

Inside the café, taken with pure, uncut leisure

Hurrying your Red River Cafe experience is like telling your grandma you want that goddamn lace tatted right now, or it’s her ass.

Sure, you could, and you’d probably get what you asked for quickly, and because everybody around here is nice, nobody will give you the poke in the snout you deserve, but why do it? Take your time. You don’t often get an opportunity to really enjoy a thing as pedestrian and indulgent as breakfast, nor as simple and transcendent as a place that is well-loved by its clientele. Go ahead. I won’t tell your sharkskin classmates.

Five minutes to twelve