by l.e. leone

Hi, Art

Guy next to me at the counter wanted an extra egg in his omelet and the waitressperson wouldn't believe him. "That's four eggs," she said.

"Right." –"Three-egg omelet. Plus one." She did the math for him: "Four eggs." –"Right," he said.

She shrugged and wrote it down on her little pad, and you could tell that she wasn't a big fan of the four-egg omelet idea.

The guy wasn't a large man, but I believed in him. In fact, I'd been him. In fact, if I'd had any eggs outside in my pickup truck, I'd of gone and got them, Merry Christmas from the Chicken Farmer! But I'd already given all my eggs away to Yatee-Yatee-Bing-Eh-Eh-Eh over breakfast, Just for You.

Now I was supposed to be playing football to pass the time before my baseball game, but not enough football players showed up, so: brunch. Art's Café, Ninth and Irving, in the Sunset.

Been there? Done that? Good for you. It was my first time, although Art's has been on my radar for years and years. I've even tried to go there once or twice, or four or five times, but never when it was open and there wasn't a line. It's just a counter, see? No tables. And this was noon on a Sunday. All the seats were taken. There was no one waiting to sit down ahead of me, but still, first pitch was at one, so I didn't have that much time to kill. Just as I was turning to find somewhere else, out of the corner of my eye I saw four people start to get up to go.

So not only did I get to sit right down, but for a minute or two, I even had some elbow room. Great place, Art's. It has a lot of old-time divey charm. Under glass on the countertop there are pictures and postcards from everywhere – Ireland, Belize, Eritrea – in case you need something to look at between menu and Korean barbecued beef lunch special ($5.65).

Holland ... the Big Texan Steakhouse, where your 72-ounce steak is free if you clean your plate ... I been there, and I think back then I could of done it, if you didn't have to eat everything else too. Potatoes and shit. So I ordered rattlesnake instead.

Guy next to me changed his mind, struck the extra egg after his companion ordered eggs too and promised him some.

"I was rooting for you," I said. "Ever been to Ann's Café?"

No.

"You'd have liked it," I said. But I didn't go into the details, because he was with someone and I didn't want to be rude or sound crazy. Fran wouldn't have flinched at the idea of an extra-egg omelet. Of course, hers had half a dozen already.

New Jersey, Hawaii. There are more pictures and postcards on the wall behind you, in-between coat hooks. In front of you: shelves of loaves of sliced bread, flats of eggs, the griddle. It's a good seat, but not much of a show, now that we've got Ann's Café's memory rattling around in here by way of comparison. The guy manpersoning the grill, like the waitressperson, is all business. Efficient, orderly, and good.

The lunch special was great. A big pile of thin-sliced, marinated beef – and when they say barbecued they mean griddled, just like everything else. It comes with a lot of white rice and a little bit of kimchee, or salad, if you prefer. I recommend the kimchee. It's good and homemade, not overly spicy. Just hot. And you can have salad anywhere, anytime, right?

They also had a breakfast special: two eggs, two cakes, and two sausages or bacons for $3.25. But their specialty seems to be these hash-brown wraps, or sandwiches, with melted cheddar, eggs, and your choice of meat, or teriyaki, or vegetarian. They did look damn good.

But I'm glad I got what I got. It fueled me right nicely across the street to Big Rec, where, if you'll pardon my sports reportivity, I pitched five innings and gave up one hit and one run wearing light blue "Bebe Sport" hip-hugger sweats with a rhinestone appliqué. Damn, man, when are these hormones going to kick in? Or is this what they mean by throw like a girl?

Art's Cafe. 747 Irving (at 9th Ave.), SF. (415) 665-7440. Mon.-Sat., 7 a.m.-4:30 p.m.; Sun., 7:30 a.m.-4 p.m. Takeout available. Credit cards not accepted. No alcohol. Wheelchair accessible.

E-mail L.E. Leone at le_chicken_farmer@yahoo.com.