Pop's Cafe - Santa Ana
|I was off on a Friday. Impossible! Unheard of! That can only mean one thing. I'm going to BREAKFAST!! Yeah, that opportunity is rare. So I planned on seizing the morning and running full speed with it. |
I've read about this place briefly. I don't normally head North to satiate my hunger. This was something new and exciting. The only other place I've been to in this city was Ye Olde Ship, and that was excellent in a completely different way.
Pop's wasn't close to the freeway. It took a cruising thru neighborhoods to reach this destination. Fortunately, there was accessible metered parking right out front. Score. I mosey on over to find them not hurting for business. Tables were stationed out front with clusters enjoying the weather, while chatter went on inside. I grabbed a seat at the counter (my favorite place ~ quicker service IMO). As I leaned forward to snatch a menu from its holder, I took the whole thing with me. The metal flew to the floor with a clang. So much for being cool. Friendly face number one walked over to me and said that "it happens all the time". I sheepishly smile and bury my face in the selections.
I really wanted to be healthy today, but I've heard raves about the deep fried French toast. What is a gal to do? I confer with Friendly face number two. She understands my dilemma, but makes a point of asking if I'm sure I want the deep fried, "most people can't handle that". I assure her that I'm not most people. So it's settled. One gourmet omelet delite with a substitution of toast with a half order of deep fried French toast. I sip my apple juice and sit back.
A portable radio is set to an oldies station. My eyes start to wander around the space. I spy a small but impressive Coca Cola memorabilia collection perched on a high shelf. There were glass bottles from other contries, plus some nifty novelties as well. It's a small space, but they make good use of it. My meal has arrived.
Two plates are set before me. One has the best veggie omelet I've had in quite a while. Sauteed mushrooms, cheese, tomato, avocado, sprouts, and sour cream all fight for my attention. I can't help but make room for its neighbor of Irish Potatoes (hash browns with bell pepper and onion mixed in). Simply wonderful. And then there's the OTHER plate. Two slices of the richest, crispiest, artery-clogging toast a person could imagine. And syrup for dipping. I feel full just thinking about it.
I dig in with gusto. The servers compliment me on my bold choice and eating capabilities. It's all a blur. I try to shift plates around when other lone diners seat themselves next to me, but it's a bit of a challenge. I check my watch to make sure the meter is still running. Ok, there's still another 15 minutes left. I start to slow down. In the end, I might've left some hash browns, but that toast was toast. Excellent service from beginning to end. About $15 after tax and a sizeable tip. Oh, and on my way out...I thought I spotted another dining room!? Kinda like a place in Belmont Shore I've dined at. Guess it's not so unusual after all.
112 East 9th Street
(no website available)