Cafe Java: Joining the Regulars

I think I've mentioned this before...no, I know I've mentioned this before but I live with seven girls. That makes eight of us. In a four bedroom apartment as big as a closet. Eight girls with a full sink of dirty dishes and a dishwasher that everyone refuses to unload. It's hard to eat a descent breakfast when you know you have to use paper plates and plastic silverware in order to avoid the teetering mountain of ceramic dishes. Every once and awhile a girl needs to get out. Don't get me wrong, it's great living with them but being anywhere near productive is actually impossible with so many voices and so much clutter. I took my last blog post as an occasion to get away for the morning. I had some homework to do after the holiday weekend and I had a craving for a breakfast that didn't include the words raisin bran and expired milk.

Sunday night I researched Austin Diners on the always trusty Yelp. Let me tell you, that search does not narrow down your options. I quickly found Cafe Java. It had everything I needed: wifi, coffee, an early opening time and a temping menu. The reviews furthered my excitement. I think Anthony E. said it best: "Great breakfast, coffee and wi-fi is a good way to start off the morning and this place serves it up home style." Simple. To the point. All I wanted. No need for excess or pretentiousness. I just wanted a good breakfast and I place to do some homework. 

Cafe au Lait
(photo: Annie Scott)

I woke up early Monday morning, excited about how quiet it was in my normally boisterous apartment. I drove north up MoPac. I rarely venture outside of the bubble of West Campus so this was a stretch for me. When I arrived at the location I thought I had entered the wrong address. A lowly strip-mall, complete with cleaners and pizza parlors surround the barren windows of Cafe Java. I quickly took a double-take at the windows and made sure it was open at 7:30 am because the blacked-out panes made it look empty inside. Oh, how wrong I was. 

I shyly opened the door and found a bustling diner that was completely full. I was greeted by a scurrying waitress who hollered, "Mornin' Sweetie, find any table thats open!" I nervously followed her instructions and found a quiet booth in the back next to two Austin sheriffs. I scanned the place. It was 7:30 and it was this crowded? I never knew people were always this productive, this early. There were business men checking their emails, hipster women obviously working on something resembling a thesis, nervous college girls waiting for their interviews to start and dozens of elderly couples enjoying their cup of morning joe. The walls were covered in independent and eclectic art work, some even being 3D. Autographed photos lined the walls, as did first dollar bills and family portraits. I could tell this place was family owned from the start. A mother and daughter were spotted bickering behind the counter and then giggling two seconds later as they greeted each customer with a smile and sincerity. 

I was quickly handed a menu and in return I asked for a latte. I needed it...I hadn't been up this early in awhile. 

California Omelette deliciousness
(photo: Annie Scott)

Ok, now lets point out the elephant in the room. Well maybe no to you, but to me this was a milestone. I was eating alone. In a restaurant. I don't do this often. I was feeling...how do you say it? Awkward. What do I do with my hands? Am I looking at my phone too much? Is it too soon to start homework? Should I pretend like I didn't already look up the menu online and act like I don't already know what I want? These are the questions that were haunting me. After a miniature panic attack, I gained some control and started on some French homework. The nice male waiter returned with my latte and asked me what I wanted. I pretended to be confused and peruse the menu but I think he knew what I was all about. I ordered the California Omelette (sticking to my roots) with a side of fruit and wheat toast. I continued with my homework and within what felt like three minutes (realistically probably seven) my food had arrived in all of its glory. 

My work station
(photo: Annie Scott)

It was exactly what I wanted. Simple, not too heavy or rich and amazingly fresh. Avocado, tomato, sprouts and swiss cheese have never complimented each other so well. It was the perfect way to start a Monday, with a warm and tasty latte to boot. I quickly forgot about my eating alone phobia and enjoyed my meal peacefully while 80-year-old couples chatted and read the morning paper. I was with the regulars. The waitresses knew them all individually: knew their orders, how they liked their coffee and even asked about their kids and grandkids. One waitress even made a move on one of the sheriffs as he was paying his tab. "Do you guys work Saturday nights because you and your single friends should come to the party I'm having this weekend. Only bring the hot officers," she said in a not so subtle and extremely candid way. 

Stalking the adorable regulars
(photo: Annie Scott)

That's how I knew this place was a keeper. It had personality. Not just delicious food and free wi-fi, but a family aspect that brought you back and made you feel welcome and important. But maybe sometimes the officers just come back to flirt.

Trudy's Tex-Mex: California Dreamin'

Being new to this whole blog thing, I've learned a few crucial life lessons during my short tenure. First, it's not easy on the wallet. Might need to be making a call to mom and pops in order to survive this venture. And secondly, its opened my eyes to the many things that Texas, in particular Austin, offers that I have been deprived of as a California-raised girl. These being (just to name a few): queso, outdoor patios open all year long and the always present live music.

I found one brunch spot that offers these foreign commodities and much more. It's called Trudy's Tex-Mex Restaurant and Bar. I visited here the first time two years ago but I thought it was very much worthy of a blog entry because of my frequent trips back for brunch. When I first decided to make the long trek and attend The University of Texas from the Bay Area, I knew my god-family was well connected to the Austin area but I had no idea that they owned the Trudy's property. It was one of the first places they took me on one of my first tours of campus. I was immediately confounded with the setting. A chilly 95 degree day, a bustling patio filled with happy margarita drinkers, and live music that made the restaurant feel more like a concert venue than a mexican eatery. The esthetics were merely the beginning as the food was even more impressive. My god-mother quickly recommended the stuffed avocado for an appetizer or the chorizo stuffed chicken. My dad went for the latter (as pictured below), paired with a bloody mary. Being that this was one of his first times in Austin, he was more than elated that I had decided to spend four years here, merely based on this food.

Dad's Chorizo Stuffed Chicken
(photo: my paparazzi father)

I went for something different and it's become somewhat of a staple every time I attend Trudy's. The pastor fajitas. I've always loved mexican food, but never like this. Pork, pineapple and chorizo; all drenched in jack cheese. It's basically happiness on a skillet. I think I realized it might be somewhat of an obsession when my friends woke me up on my birthday with breakfast in bed and this is what they brought me. I'm not ashamed. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see this magic.

Pastor Fajitas = leftovers for weeks
(photo: myself)

Anyways, you can say I like the place and you caught me, it's not breakfast. But it may be the best brunch I've ever had so there's that. It's hard not to love the convenient location, the funky service and relaxed atmosphere. A 45 minute wait for a table could feel like five if you sit down at a picnic table under a mister and take in some Austin heat and a killer setting. This family owned place rocks some wild hairdos on the waiters and some even wilder art on the walls, but the food is what I come back for and suggest you do the same. It's a must see place when any of my siblings or family come into town and it never disappoints. I may be putting it under a lot of hype but hopefully you feel the same. Happy brunching!

24 Diner: Well worth the wait

Six sleepy roommates rolled out of bed on the Sunday morning (afternoon really) after spring break, all feeling many feelings. Mostly exhaustion mixed with immense hunger. It didn't take any convincing of my five friends to go to breakfast with me and find a new diner to write a post about. We came to a group consensus that we would try 24 Diner on North Lamar. Again, a spot we drove by almost daily but never ventured inside.

Leslie vibin' during our long wait for a table
(photo: myself)

We drove by around noon and dropped off Katie Waters to see how long the wait would be. She ran back to the car and reported that it would only be 30 minutes. This was doable. We browsed through Waterloo Records next door to kill some time, not remembering the last time we bought a physical CD. Quite the trip down memory lane. After we got bored of that, we strolled back to the diner presuming we would be up any minute. Oh we were so wrong. We failed to remember that it was the Sunday of South by Southwest. A normally calm and casual breakfast spot had turned frantic and was swarming with hipsters and musicians that were much cooler than us. The number of tattoos and fedoras counted was unbelievable and thats saying a lot considering the habitants of this weird city. Our people watching was paired with much recap of our long spring breaks apart.  An hour and a half later, and after much pestering of the hostess by Paige, we were seated and starving.

It was a little embarrassing how giddy we all got when the waiter approached our table, but hey, we had waited long enough and seen way too many delicious meals through the window. It was completely appropriate. He explained the specials but all of us pretty much zoned out. We knew what we had our eyes on and we wouldn't be led astray. An onlooker was probably mortified by these six girls and their intensity over breakfast.

Paige's gorgonzola burger
(photo: a very excited Paige)

We all ordered quickly (probably too quickly). Paige went with a bacon gorgonzola burger and Katie Waters with a bacon avocado burger with a side of mac and cheese. Christina bravely went for the goat cheese frittata, this was uncharted territory. Katie Johnson with a grilled cheese (the lady loves cheese more than most things). And Leslie and I went for the waffle meals. Hers was paired with scrambled eggs and bacon. Mine was a sandwich of waffles, sausage, bacon and fried eggs.  Whoever came up with that deserves some sort of medal.

Christina's frittata
(photo: Christina)

Katie's avocado and Bacon Burger,
 side of deliciousness
(photo: me)

We all again almost yelped with glee when our plates arrived. I honestly feel terrible for our waiter. Katie Johnson and Christina quickly scrambled and ordered their own mac and cheese after seeing Waters's.

Johnson's grilled cheese
Gone in maybe 20 seconds
(photo: me)

Leslie's waffle breakfast
(photo: me)

My waffle sandy
I was a happy girl
(photo: my drooling self)

We all did well. Very well. Bites were shared. Little conversation was had. Meals were inhaled. Food comas followed. So did long naps.

We all soon agreed that we needed to return pronto and try everything else on the menu.

I've tried many the breakfast spot. This might make the top 10. I loved everything about it. Sure, the wait was long but the ambience was funky and retro, the service was exceptional and the food was absolutely delicious.

Austin does many things right. Music, movies, hikes, tattoos, but food trumps them all. And I'm starting to believe breakfast in particular. 24 Diner is just more proof that this city specializes in gourmet and exquisite food, in the most unpredictable and casual of spots.

Counter Cafe: A food coma waiting to happen

As a lover of all things breakfast, it's hard not to fall in love with a city that transcends culinary beauty in the morning meal. As my dad would say, it's hard to find somewhere in Austin to eat that's bad. Every meal brings comfort, mixed with flair, and a tiny taste of weird. With so much to offer, Austin can seem daunting. So much to eat, but such a small wallet and a waist line to think about. But still, in the two years I've lived here, I've tried ever so hard to broaden my horizons. It's easy for a girl like me to become used to particular joints and become a regular. I'm trying to break the habit. It's been my goal to adventure dine; find new and funky places that my taste buds will delight in. Especially for the most important meal of the day.

The Exterior on North Lamar
(photo: me)

For my first stop, I chose a place that I have passed at least 50 times since I've lived in this beautiful city. Located on North Lamar, just north of Whole Foods, the Counter Cafe doesn't make much of an impression from afar. But despite its simple signage and a tiny property, this diner was just what I was looking for. I had promised one of my roommates we would experience this magical meal together after we watched a special on the restaurant on the Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. But I had to be a terrible friend and jumped at the opportunity to go with my dad when he was in town for the weekend.

My dad, being a foodie himself, relishes in the excitement of a delicious breakfast, just like me. He's more of a sausage man, but I'll let that one slide. We woke up at 8:30 a.m. (actually I woke up at 8:30 a.m., he'd been up since 5 a.m.) and drove down Lamar with little to no expectations. We quickly parked in the tiny parking lot and put in our names. Our 15 minute wait felt like nothing as we chatted and he tried to find an ATM (the man loves to have cash).

We sat down at the counter, fairly ironic if you ask me, and ordered two bottomless coffees. First points granted. We grazed the menu but I already had an idea what I wanted. Any type of benedict. Actually I probably would've had anything with hollandaise on top but a benedict was what I was craving. I was raised on poached eggs for breakfast in bed and eggs florentine every Christmas morning. You can say I've been spoiled and/or brainwashed into loving this amazing creation. That being said, I consider myself a benedict connoisseur and judge the quality of any restaurant based off the runny-ness of the egg. I'm a very tough critic. I quickly decided on the pastrami benedict and my dad, being the very self-less person that he is, decided he wanted in on that action and asked if we could split it. We came to a conclusion: he would get the crab cake benny and I would stick with pastrami and we would pretend like we were good at sharing food.

One of the two chefs working in his small arena
(photo: my spellbound father)

As we waited for our meals, my dad and I watched the chefs make magic. Two guys working with unreal speed and precision as they bobbed and weaved throughout the 3x5 kitchen. It was like a dance. One would fry the potatoes, one would watch the eggs, one would douse a biscuit in a massive amount of gravy. It was organized chaos at its finest. We didn't speak to each other for a solid 15-20 minutes, as we were completely mesmerized by this talent. My dad commented, "I could never do this, I would be sweating all over everyone's food." Gross, but accurate. These two men worked will such immediacy but such grace.

We received our food after a quick wait and again conversation ceased as the starting gun went off. Sided with finely cut hash potatoes, both benedict's were so perfectly cooked and were so different in the best possible way. We were having a perfect moment.

Crab Cake Benny on the left, Pastrami Benny on the Right
(photo: me)

We finished our meals way too fast but enjoyed every bite. Even as we were full and happy, we watched the chefs continue to work at their unreal pace and commented how we might have to return the next day to try everything else on the menu. Soon our blissful state turned sleepy and we forced ourselves to take a long walk to burn off a delicious and filling breakfast. 

Paul likes a little spice. We call this "Fire on the Mountain."
(photo: me)

It was indeed a breakfast for the books. I imagine this would be a place I would go if my life were a sitcom. The friendly people, the implicit character of the diner and the beyond scrumptious food made me want to come back every morning. If only.