Breakfast sliders

There is a time and a place for everything. And breakfast sliders are sacred.

A warm little black and white checklist of all things comforting and beautiful. Crisp rosemary rolls with apricot jam sparkling off the toastiest edges. Fresh egg and vibrant bits of bell pepper all held together in an unassuming but not unsung provolone — or was it swiss?

I always forgot and it was my own “usual…”

Familiar is the walk through the light glass door framed in wood painted red. Eyeing the small, occupied seating situation and knowing it’ll be fine. Parents visiting a Claremont student at the largest table for 4. A mom has roped her territory of a few bar chairs by the window. Another couple of friends are almost done at one of the two-person tables against the wall under the same square paintings of succulents. Getting in “line” and reaching around undecided guests still browsing, I grab a golf pencil and the little order form. It’ll be a half hour wait but it’s worth it — that’s why we won’t worry about the seating.

We already got coffee around the corner anyway. We’ll work off the mild shame of our red Augie’s cups while we pay our dues in hunger, a deep breath will lay our claim of two seats by the entrance. By the entrance again? Ugh, the door opens. More people aren’t sure if they want to stay for the wait. But we’re sure, and we’re home.


One thought on “Breakfast sliders

Sup pudding cup?

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