Wednesday Breakfast Blogging

Frankly I don't ask for breakfast to impress me as I'm just not up for a culinary show first thing in the morning. Heck, I'm generally barely up at all. I do want breakfast to comfort me, for it to say, "George, yes, you are awake, but things are still calm and restful and I'll please you without making you work too hard." (This is not an actual transcript from a talking breakfast, and no, as fond as I am of spirits of all sorts, I've never been too keen on brunch libations like mimosas or bloody Marys, so I'm not soused amidst the snap crackle and pop, promise.)

This is a long way to go to say there's a new breakfast spot in town and I'm fond of it after one visit. Jake's Cottage Cuisine Cafe is where Skanky Buffet used to be, 2911 De La Vina, so within easy tandem bike distance from our casa. It's nothing fancy, and that's exactly why it's pleasant. Sky blue walls, sea blue tablecloths, some inoffensive if unremarkable art on the walls. Some sidewalk tables if you want to stare up De La Vina and count the near-miss accidents going into the TJ's parking lot. Despite its slightly desperately alliterative name, it could more accurately be called Jake's Joint, back when that word meant worth and not either rundown or unhip. (OK, they do have wireless, so that's pretty hip.)

But you come to a place like this for the food, not the scenery. It's good. The problem with continuing my joint metaphor is a joint meets a greasy spoon in a darkened kitchen where few come out un-polyunsaturated. That's not the case here as it's a Santa Barbara joint, and therefore it offers food that's made from fresh produce (none of those waxy, pale tomatoes here). Just check out the salsa fresca you can get and you'll see it's so fresh you won't let it behind you as it might pinch your butt. Still, Jake's balances the high-quality ingredients mantra with a wise unfussiness--it's a bit of homemade green goddess (I'm pretty sure) that's swirled on the plate of the Mid-Western Omelet, not some foam or something you need to know French to pronounce correctly. And it makes the ripe cherry tomatoes even more yummy.

As for that omelet, my order, it achieved prime omelet consistency, fluffy without being airy, moist without any sop. While it was stuffed, it wasn't bursted (you remember actress Ellen Bursted, don't you?), with well sauteed green peppers, green onions, green chiles, tasty-tad-salty ham, grilled fresh corn (hello, summer, where you been?), Oaxaca cheese (nice touch, unusual but appropriately mild with so many other flavors to mix with) and epazote. Now, epazote doesn't seem particularly Mid-West to me, but it fits the omelet's profile and gives the same lift it gives to beans (if you don't know epazote, get some and drop even a few leaves into your next pot of beans and start writing your thank you comment now).

Amy had The Charleston, for she was a flapper in a previous life. Seriously, I assume it hails from South Carolina way as it comes with grits, but get that look off your face, these are delicious grits, rich and creamy. You also get 2 or 3 eggs your way with that--Amy's way was 2, scrambled--plus Canadian bacon she approved of so much I didn't get any.

The coffee was just fine, avoiding any of the flavors some places try to pass off. (If I want vanilla coffee I'll order affogato). The service was solid, and a guy I have to assume was Jake made the rounds to many tables and it seemed he knew many repeat customers, which should be a good sign.

There's lunch, too, but we really don't eat out that often so I can't report yet. I promise. Haven't even been to the Hungry Cat in over a week!