To mark the beginning of Spring Break, my boyfriend Richard, our good friend Matt and I did nothing of real importance and on no real schedule. We went to the movies, watched Food Network and had a few rousing tournaments of Double Dash.

To top off our weekend of nothing, we decided to go out for Sunday brunch. We headed to Sam's Sourdough Café, right down the street from the University. I've had the pleasure of eating there before, but never on a Sunday afternoon.

We walked in with the after-church crowd and the little parking lot was full. We ended up having to wait for a table to open up. People were passing us on their way out, looking happy and full—the exact combination we were in search of.

As we were seated and the coffee was poured, we looked at the menu, and chatted about what looked good. We placed our orders and made small talk while waitresses flew around the little cafe with plates piled high with piping hot food in one arm, and coffee pots that always magically topped off our cups in the other (we never once saw the bottoms of our mugs).

I am a classic breakfast type of girl—coffee, bacon, toast, hash browns and two eggs (over medium, please). My meal was $7.75, and it was more than I could handle. The eggs were cooked perfectly, the whole-wheat toast was crunchy and buttered just right and I've never seen so much bacon on a single plate. A silence set in at the table as we first evaluated and then dug into our respective plates, breaking the silence only to ask for condiments

My partners in gluttony also had big plates to work on. Richard ordered his usual, the Sharon's Sourdough sandwich: A hefty breakfast sandwich that consists of a hamburger patty, slices of ham, an egg, cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion on a sourdough bun along with a side of French fries (you can opt for biscuits and gravy instead of the fries).

Matt ordered the breakfast special: chicken-fried steak with gravy, eggs over easy, hash browns, and, instead of toast, a side of biscuits and gravy. The steak was bland on its own, but the gravy that smothered it was creamy and peppery with just enough greasy comfort to make it worth devouring.

When our stomachs were full we pushed our plates away, and reached for our coffee cups, sizing up the damage that we had done to both our plates and our wallets. All three of us walked away full and happy and the tab was $30. We'll be coming back for sure, but next time we'll make sure to try and beat the after-church crowd.

Comment on this story...