Confessions Of A Breadboard Addict | Page 7 Of 7 | The Breadboard
“Best Place To Cure A Hangover”
READER’S CHOICE AWARD
“Best Place To Cure A Hangover”
– Southern Oregon Magazine, Spring 2014
“Breakfast Champs”
– Medford Mail Tribune and Ashland Daily Tidings, April 11, 2014
As usual, today I was up at 5:45 am, did my morning calisthenics, ran 4 miles, had my cup of coffee and nutritionally balanced, heathy breakfast and was at my desk, productive and happy by 8 am – off to a good start of a productive and carefree day… Then my alarm went off – again – and I realized I had been hitting snooze for the last hour and the whole day was now doomed. I panicked, my chest got tight and my breathing became more and more labored. I started going over all the things that had to be done today. I felt a wave of nausea and despair overtake my entire being. I knew I needed to act decisively. Without hesitating, I turned off the alarm and tossed it into the pile of dirty clothes next to my bed and burrowed deeply under my covers. I was safe – for now. But ever so slowly reality creeped in and I began to realize that this was only a temporary solution. Eventually, they would miss me at work and some over-zealous do-gooder would track me down and I would have to deal with the realities of life. There was really NO escape. Or was there? I remembered that they never rat me out at the Breadboard. The caring family at the Breadboard were solid – they had my back – what happens at the Breadboard stays at the Breadboard. They were the protectors of leisure and escape and culinary indulgence and comfort. I remembered how Southern Oregon Magazine had just awarded them the Reader’s Choice Award for 2014 for “Best Place To Cure A Hangover.” Also, they just had a full page review in the Mail Tribune and The Ashland Daily Tidings proclaiming them “Breakfast Champs!” My course of action was clear. The time to act was now. I made the call without hesitation…”Hello, Betty…yeah, cough, cough… it’s me… cough, sniffle…I know, something must be going around…. I’m sure I’ll be a lot better tomorrow…. Sorry I can’t make it in today…” She bought it! I turned off my cell phone, quickly and deftly grabbed a t-shirt and some jeans from the pile next to my bed and scurried to the car – I could smell the bacon as my car sputtered to life…
Breadboard French Dip…
I finally got a chance to break away from the Rogue Valley. The stress. The traffic. The extreme weather. Haha. But really, it is nice to have a change of scenery from time to time. I was psyched. Destination: Big Sur, Andrew Molera State Park. Gorgeous, dramatic coast line. Cute otters. I was halfway into day two, watching the waves break on the beach, lost in the rhythmic pounding of the waves, watching the foam creeping up the beach and then it hit me. Gravy. Country gravy. I had been living on granola and yogurt and apples and ham sandwiches for a couple of days. I had been sustained, but I wasn’t “living”. I started to think about country gravy with big hunks of sausage and bacon. Then, I started to think about the Bagel Breakfast Sandwich at the Breadboard with honey-cured ham and Swiss cheese. And then I started to crave real Sourdough Pancakes… Then I started to crave lunch – the Breadboard French Dip with grilled mushrooms onions… I started to panic. I was a good 9 or 12 hours from Ashland. I was stranded. Alone. Hungry. Afraid. Devoid of hope. Ok, ok. I knew I wasn’t in a “physically” life-threatening situation, but panic is relative. Reason is delicate and fleeting. Life can be cheap and one person’s Mount Everest is another’s de riguer, coup de gras, creme de la creme, fois de grois, uh, I don’t know…now I was apparently in some kind of bad French hallucination- my head was swimming, the waves pounded the beach and the otters played. Breadboard. I needed an omelette. Au Revior, mon petite chou chou…
A conspiracy in our little town? Perhaps…
Well, I’m not a conspiracy theorist nor do I ever really exhibit signs of road rage and if the NSA is tracking my smart phone apps they are going to be pretty bored with what they find unless they are in to Solitaire and Flikster. All that said, something is going on in Ashland. I’ve been conducting a scientific study and found that if my smart car is fully charged, I can get to the Breadboard in under 20 minutes from anywhere within city limits. Ok, ok – TRUE – their hours are 7 am to 2 pm every day – pretty much eliminating rush hour traffic snarls from the equation but still there is an evidence of design behind the, shall we say, “convenience of access” to amazing omelettes, mouthwatering french toast creations and hearty, tasty sandwiches. I think the city – unbeknownst to the common people of Ashland actually laid out the main thorough fares to lead everyone to the Breadboard and that’s why everybody eats there – it’s just too good – too good – too too good. Now, I’m not saying this plot is a bad thing. I’m just saying there could be something there and it doesn’t have anything to do with chem trails and global warming and some big brothers actually have their little brother’s and sister’s best interests at heart. I mean, Ashland has amazing parks, great water and their streets are in great condition. And…and the Breadboard has ample parking, amazing food and service AND it is located within 20 minutes of anywhere within Ashland city limits. Coincidence? Perhaps….perhaps not…
Pumpkin Walnut Pancakes for the whole month of January!
December was a tough month for me. Pipes froze, twisted my knee when I slipped on the ice and I realized that Egg Nog Lattes at the Breadboard wouldn’t last forever. Apparently, Egg Nog is a “seasonal” thing. What? What genius came up with that idea? So, I was stewing about this and slipping and sliding my way to the Breadboard the other morning and the sky was grey and they kept saying it would get better but somebody wizzed past me on North Main and slushy gravely mush splashed on me and I was just feeling really blue, you know? And I got to the Breadboard and Chika greeted me at the door and everyone was so cheerful and as I ordered one of my last Egg Nog Lattes they asked me why I seemed so down and I told them – then, I added, “oh, but that’s not all, my cat wet the bean bag in my room.” Yeah, I mean, I have issues I’m dealing with, you know? Then the Pumpkin Walnut Pancakes came and I slowly raised my utensils, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I muttered, “bet these will be gone soon too.” Zach happened to be walking by and said, “what about the pancakes?” And I said, “bet these will be gone soon, too.” Just then, Zach saw Francisco walk by and said, “Hey Paco, how long we serving pumpkin cakes?” Then, Paco (they call Francisco “Paco” for short) did a jazz hands thing and twirled around and laughed and said “I may be crazy but I will serve them for at least the whole month of January!” And then fireworks lit up the sky and the big brass band played and the sun came out and everything was beautiful again. Just another day at the Breadboard.