Mother and I have a thing going. And sometimes little miss is with us too.
When we're not in the mood for our day-to-day breakfast, we sneaky sneak to our hometown favorite, Cookie's Kitchen.
Sometimes you need a hug, right? And sometimes that hug is in the form of comfort food.
Now I like to consider myself a biscuits and gravy connoisseur. If it's on the menu, I'm ordering it. And that says a lot because I'm a very healthy and mindful eater. But when the words, "biscuits" and "gravy" catch my eye, I have to order it. A reflex, I suppose.
I've been eating at Cookie's Kitchen since I was a tween. Was tween even a word back then?
And I can tell you now, once I had that breakfast item, I haven't tried anything else since. I'm not kidding. It's the only thing I order when I'm there.
Silly? Maybe. Down right delicious? Absolutely!
We've been bellying up to the counter throughout winter. It's the action spot. The chef, with his backwards hat, is slinging multiple meals across the flat top. His precision and expertise is mesmerizing.
The woman to his right oversees all the intricate details - toast, butter, spreads, oatmeal, garnishes, assembly. She's in charge on that side, and she does it with a kind smile.
The gals that serve you are fun, spirited, and know their stuff. Many of them have been there since I was young. We're aging well together.
The food always magically appears, even when we're watching it all unfold in front of us. And that first bite - shoot. I just can't put it into words.
Joy. That's my word today.
Mom orders off the junior menu - and it's been the same all winter as well. She gets a pancake, scrambled egg, and a sausage patty, not link.
I eat my breakfast way too fast because it's that good. I lean back in my stool and look around. If you haven't been to Cookie's, you wouldn't quite understand. See, Ms. Cookie isn't just known for her down-home cooking, but also for her decorating. She has the entire, and I mean entire restaurant covered in fun, over-the-top decor. And it changes with the holidays. More is more at Cookie's Kitchen.
Mother finishes after me, and leans in for what she thinks is a whisper.
"Do you hear his accent?" she says, chatting about the gentleman sitting beside her.
"No, why?" I say.
"He's Italian," she chirps. "Zesty!"
Okay Mother, go ahead with yourself!
When the waitress asks to refill our drinks, we ask for it to go (mom taught me that one).
We attempt to leave, but she sees folks that she knows. Pasadena is like that. She sits with them, as I stand by like an annoyed tween.
As we swing the door to head out, I tell her to watch her step. We climb in my Jeep, to go drinks in hand, and we're happy.
Bellies full, grinnin', happy.
The sense of community, neighbors saying hello, and a hot plate of your favorite comfort food. It doesn't get much better than that in the 'Dena.
We needed that. Thanks Cookie's.
Friends - I would love to know your comfort food fav. Let's chat in the comments!
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