Bit of Country
No need for a fuss first thing in the morning. Everything you need is right here, cheap and good, served with a heaping side of local hospitality. The waitress may call you "honey," the dated bric-a-brac on the shelves may remind you of a childhood aunt, your fellow clientele may not turn from their conversations about the water shortage or their Social Security payments, but the pancakes, chicken-friend steak, and pepper-seasons biscuits arrive just as you would have imagined them in your mental image of an adorable family-run diner. It's just simple food just how you like it—affiordable and family-friendly and served with a smile so you can start your day in the desert. Check out the slightly psychedelic farmyard mural on the wall out front: Apparently it was painted by a regular patron as they recovered from an addiction (and, as you can tell, it wasn't to ham and eggs).
No need for a fuss first thing in the morning. Everything you need is right here, cheap and good, served with a heaping side of local hospitality. The waitress may call you "honey," the dated bric-a-brac on the shelves may remind you of a childhood aunt, your fellow clientele may not turn from their conversations about the water shortage or their Social Security payments, but the pancakes, chicken-friend steak, and pepper-seasons biscuits arrive just as you would have imagined them in your mental image of an adorable family-run diner. It's just simple food just how you like it—affiordable and family-friendly and served with a smile so you can start your day in the desert. Check out the slightly psychedelic farmyard mural on the wall out front: Apparently it was painted by a regular patron as they recovered from an addiction (and, as you can tell, it wasn't to ham and eggs).
