Breakfast in Victoria for $3.99

This isn't a review, it's a public service announcement.  The Fresko Cafe at 642 Yates Street, between Douglas & Broad, formerly the site of Great Cannon Pizza and several other unspeakably bad pizzerias, is offering a $3.99 ham, eggs, hashbrown & coffee breakfast special.  You read that right - $3.99 for a greasy spoon breakfast in the heart of the Garden City.


The Fresko is a small, low-budget affair but the food is perfectly serviceable and the menu extends beyond breakfast with hamburgers, omelettes ($5.99) and donairs, to name a few.  They're open until 3am on both Friday & Saturday night although you're not going to get late-night breakfast unless it's a slow night.


Check it out before it's gone.  Not that the special is a limited time offer but rather it's likely to soon be replaced by a condo, ladies-wear boutique or maybe a timeshare made out of fair-trade coffee beans.

Johnny's at Fife | 5211 20th Street East | Fife, WA

You mean I have to walk there?

When I arrived in Fife, Washington after a ten-hour, 600-mile drive from Butte, Montana, the first thing I wanted was a nap.  After checking into a Motel 6 by the highway I accomplished just that and upon waking the next thing I wanted wasn’t going to happen until the next time I saw my wife, so I settled for something to eat.  The immediate area had no shortage of fast-food mainstays but I try to avoid places like that whenever possible.  Instead, as my regular readers know, I prefer to seek out locally-owned restaurants, some of them thriving, some of them barely hanging on against a rising tide of bland chain restaurants. 

West Coast Grill | 850 Douglas Street | Victoria

Update: I'm sad to report that the West Coast Grill has now closed it's doors.

So many things in life would be easier if they were dealt with honestly.  Dating, for example, would be simpler if, when you walked into the bar, men and women alike came out with what was really on their mind.  When the peroxide blonde with the washboard stomach dancing on top of some speakers caught your eye she would say, “Keep moving, droopy.  I’m drunk, not the Make-a-Wish Foundation.”  When a sculpted Adonis in his finest Tommy Bahama shirt put down his Jagerbomb to make time with the shy brunette in the red dress he’d say, “You seem vulnerable.  Can I help you get drunk enough to make a mistake that I can tell my friends about at brunch tomorrow?” 

Tom & Jerry's Restaurant | 2828 East Hastings Street | Vancouver

5 bacons + egg.  That's my
kind of math.

There’s something about a greasy spoon diner that speaks to me. I don’t know if it’s the waitress impatiently popping her gum because she’s got places to be or the diners who nurse their coffee for hours because they don’t or if it’s the food that manages to simultaneously take years off my life while provoking awkward stimulation in my marital area. Whatever the reason, I’m forever dragging my friends and family to places like the Grade A Restaurant on Granville, where seven dollars gets you bacon, eggs and hashbrowns, or, if you’re feeling continental, hashbrowns and an Eggo waffle fresh from the toaster. An extra dollar-fifty gets you a mug of coffee with a residual taste of bleach to prove that the tableware is scrupulously clean. When it’s time to go, the chef himself will ask you how you enjoyed your meal - he’s able to do this because he’s also the person handling the cash. Once your transaction is completed you can watch him skip over that handwashing nonsense and immediately return to work scooping handfuls of shredded potatoes onto the grill.  With his bare hands.

Cup of Joe Cafe | #1 - 230 Menzies Street | Victoria

A close friend of mine once spent most of his time and even more of his money trying to win over the office ice queen, a tall blonde named Annette whose head was as empty as her brassiere was full.  Presents, cards & little favors, he punched all the spots on his sucker card trying to win her affections and after a series of chaste dates had gotten absolutely nowhere.  It finally ended at the office Christmas party when he found her in the stairwell frantically exchanging DNA with the copier repairman.  My friend was crushed and Annette’s explanation didn’t do anything to ease the sting:  “His name is Vincent; he has great arms AND a Mustang!  I thought you wanted me to be happy?”  For him that was the end of the office party and he left, miserable, priapic and bound for home thinking it was the end of his night too.  But then a funny thing happened to remind him of a lesson we all forget from time to time:  sometimes the things we want most have been right here all along.  Her name was Brenda and she lived two doors down.  Now and again they had run into each other in the laundry room but until this moment, when they arrived home at the same time and her smile cut through his misery and loneliness, he’d never really seen her.  Never noticed the twinkle in her blue eyes, the way she wrinkled her little nose when she laughed, or the curve of her...well, curves.  They talked until they didn’t need to anymore and my friend disappeared off the face of the earth for a while.  Once he’d come back down from the clouds he invited me out for breakfast at Cup of Joe to tell me the story, to brag more  than was strictly necessary and finally, to ask for a favor.