One thing that
Americans love is their breakfast. Hardly a restaurant across this great land
of ours doesn’t serve breakfast. They all have their specialties, from health
food to ham n’ eggs, you can get any breakfast you like almost anywhere in
America.
David Reed and
Rachel Robertson have a unique relationship. They are both pilots, flying a corporate
airplane. They started flying together five years ago, for a bank in Illinois.
They hit it off right away as best friends, sharing common interests besides
flying. One of those interests was breakfast. Today they fly for an organ
transplant company in St Louis.
In their travels
around the country, they get to visit many restaurants. Sometimes it’s for
dinner, but many times they arrived early enough to have breakfast. Before long
this became sort of a hobby of theirs, a common interest. The more places they
ate, the more they compared.
“We used to just
eat at Denny’s or Waffle House,” says David. “They were cheap and consistent.
We liked Waffle House because of their counter. I love restaurant counters,
love eating at them. You get to see the action behind the counter.”
Rachel added, “He does! You never know who
might be sitting next to you. I’ve met some interesting people that way. Plus,
there is a Waffle House everywhere, and they’re open all night.”
On
one trip to Ohio, to a small town near Akron, they asked the airport people for
a recommendation. Rachel says, “People who work at the airport usually know the
best places to eat. Sometimes, sometimes not. I’d say maybe 70%, 80% of the
time they do. Sometimes they send you to McDonald’s.” For private aircraft they
don’t use the regular airline terminal, but a private terminal in a more remote
location, called a Fixed Base Operator, or FBO. They can be quite basic, or
very luxurious, depending on the location. The smaller the airport, the more
basic the FBO is. If you go to Stevens Aviation in Chicago though, it’s quite
luxurious. “They get some very high-end customers, flying in very fancy jets,”
explains David. “They have crew cars, like free rental cars that a flight crew
can borrow to go eat. Stevens has brand new Fords, while Bob’s Flying Service
in Nowhere, Indiana might have an old minivan that kinda runs. One place even
had a new Mercedes. Took us five minutes to figure out how to start that thing,”
he laughed.
They
drove to a nearby place that the airport had recommended. Inside they sat down,
the waitress came right over. “That’s important,” says Rachel. “I don’t like
sitting around forever waiting for a cup of coffee.” They opened the menus and
discovered there were at least six large pages of breakfast items. More
pancakes than they ever imagined. “It really raised the bar on breakfast,” said
David. The proof, though, is in the food. “Just because a place is fancy
doesn’t mean the cook knows what he’s doing,” says Rachel.
This place though,
lived up to its reputation. The food was excellent. For a while, it was their
favorite pancake house. At other cities, they found local diners.
“Locals
can be either hot or cold,” says David. “They usually have great atmosphere,
friendly customers and staff. The food though tends to be just average.” By
average they mean the scrambled eggs are a bit overcooked. The coffee is a
generic brand. The pancakes are only so so. “We look at the details when we eat
at a new place,” Rachel added, as she took another sip of her coffee. “Like
this coffee. It’s OK, but nothing I’d write home about. At least they have real
cream, not powdered.”
They ordered their
usual- scrambled eggs, sausage patties, pancakes. “No reason, it’s just what we
both like. Sometimes I try to mix it up with eggs over easy. Eggs are important
to breakfast.” The waitress eventually brought out the plates of food.
“First of all,”
says David as he digs into the scrambled eggs, “the plate is cold. That means
you have to eat fast or everything gets cold that’s on the plate.”
He asks Rachel,
“What do you think of the eggs?”
“They’re ok, but
not special. I’d say average. Some places add real cream, even a little bit of
cheese for flavor. They don’t overcook them either. They should be light,
consistent, one piece. See how these are overdone? Kind of plain, too. And when
you put your fork in them, they break up into small pieces. I think they’re
mixing powdered eggs with real eggs.”
David tried a
pancake. “Sponge cakes I call these,” he says. “Too much flour or something.
When you pour syrup on them, they just soak it up like a sponge. Jeesh, the
syrup’s cold, too.”
At this diner they
aren’t very impressed. “Wonder why the airport recommended this?” Dave muses.
They have eaten
breakfast in Orlando, Las Vegas, Des Moines, Mobile, Dallas, just about
everywhere. “When we used to stay overnight, we sometimes stayed at a Bed &
Breakfast,” explained David. “They had some of the best breakfasts. Remember
that place near Daytona in Florida?” he asked Rachel.
“Oh God, do I,”
she answers. “I had such a hangover, I wasn’t hungry at all, just coffee
please. But he brought out these amazing strawberry waffles. Oh my, they were
so delicious,” she says, rolling her eyes thoughtfully.
They were in Las
Vegas once, found a little restaurant inside a casino in Old Las Vegas. They
liked that part of Las Vegas “Because it’s old school. The streets are two
lanes, sometimes even closed off. Much quieter without the traffic. The bars
are much better, too. Not so touristy.”
David continued,
“In Las Vegas we ate at this one restaurant. The oriental woman, is that
politically correct? Oriental?”
“I think so,” said
Rachel as she put syrup on her sausage patty.
“OK, well she sat
us at this small table. We ordered the usual. It was amazing. The pancakes were
great. The sausage…”
“Oh yes, those
sausages were huge, weren’t they?” said Rachel.
“The biggest
sausages I’ve ever seen,” said Dave laughing. “We ate there every day. The same
Oriental lady sat us at the same table every day. We met some really
interesting people at the table next to us. Remember the gambler?”
“Yeah, lost $1500
he said. Said he would eat breakfast, go back and win it back. So casual about
it. I would have died if I’d just lost $1500,” she laughed.
One day they
landed in Kansas City, at the downtown airport. The FBO recommended the Corner
Café. “We fell in love with the place,” said David. “Terrific atmosphere, great
food. The pancakes were delicious, the syrup warm. Best scrambled eggs ever.”
Rachel agreed.
Whenever they went to Kansas City, they always went to the Corner Café.
“Des Moines was
good too,” said Rachel. “We drove that airport car, you called it a ‘ghetto cruiser’,
across the bridge to this diner. Middle of a run-down neighborhood. Great place
though.”
I asked why she
thought so. “The atmosphere. The place smelled terrific with all that good
food. Great eggs, great pancakes, great coffee. Such a friendly place. Everyone
seemed to know everyone else.”
I asked where was
their all time favorite. They looked at each other and chuckled. David said,
“Well, that’s funny. Here at home we’ve been to First Watch, Egg & I, IHOP,
the chain restaurants. Not a fan of First Watch. Too ‘all natural’ if you know
what I mean. Too healthy. I mean, whole wheat pancakes? Seriously, only
communists and Democrats eat whole wheat pancakes.”
“Rachel added,
“Egg & I is good though. Good eggs. The biggest apple pancakes I’ve
ever seen.”
Dave said, “Yep,
true that. Egg & I is good. That apple pancakes feeds both of us, with
leftovers. Denny’s is cheap, so is IHOP. Then one day we went to this place
called the Original Pancake House, down in the Valley, right by our airport
here.”
“It was amazing.
The service was super friendly. The OJ was literally fresh squeezed. The syrup
was hot, the butter whipped and room temperature, not frozen little packets.
The eggs were perfect. The pancakes were the best.” David took a sip of coffee,
looked at it. “Pancake House coffee is better. This taste’s old.”
Rachel agreed. “The
Pancake House had the best. We talked to the manager once. She said the secret
to a good pancake is to use potato water. Something to do with the startch. I’m
sold.”
Dave said
thoughtfully, “Imagine, the whole time, the best place was right by our home base.”
They finished
their breakfast, Dave grabbed the check, went to the register and pulled out
the company credit card. “One of the perks of the job,” he winked. They walked
outside, stood on the sidewalk in the warm sunshine.
“You know how you
can tell if it was a good breakfast? If you feel like a nap afterward, then it
was a good breakfast.”
They walked off to the airport car together. Their quest
for pancake perfection continues, it may never end. They may find it in a New
York deli or a roadside café in Garden City, Kansas.
Rachel says, “Sure
it’s about the food, but it’s also about the journey. When you have such a good
friend, any diner is a good diner.”
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