Debby Does…

For decades, I, and eventually Jim and I, and most people I knew, frequented a place called The Village Kitchen for breakfast in Marmora, New Jersey. An unassuming spot serving quality breakfast and lunch since the 1970’s, it also holds the current distinction of being partially owned by a lovely person who lives in our first home. I do love connections! Debby Does Connections!

Village Kitchen is the kind of place that is always good, affordable, and welcoming to every type of person from all walks of life. Whether you choose to sit at the counter and be a part of the action or you prefer a table, you’re going to enjoy your meal and the experience. Five stars!

I’ve even got a friend in a band who always said that he wanted his level of success to be equal to the Village Kitchen, but never at the level of McDonald’s. He wanted to be 9 people’s favorite thing, not a hundred people’s 9th favorite thing (I paraphrase from Title of Show, the musical).

I’m nothing without musical theatre references.

When we moved about 35 miles away from the Village Kitchen area, we struggled mightily to find “our breakfast spot” where we would know folks by name and have a regular order. Truthfully, I felt like the Goldilocks of breakfast land—too busy, too bland, or too political. I was completely amazed by how many people felt compelled and comfortable to expound upon their political and social views with the kind of vocal gusto only found in opera singers. Loud and proud, I tell you.

Finally, we found a perfect spot. Two weeks later they closed. Le sigh…

Well, since the South Jersey Breakfast Tour has ended with our move to Indiana, we began a new search.

Check that off the to do list. We’ve nailed it.

Home

We’ve been there two times, but it feels like home. The food is tasty, the service is just right, price point is perfect, and the people-watching is sublime. It had a real Village Kitchen feeling about it, though a bit less hipster and a lot more Hoosier!

Their biscuits are light as air. They truly understand the meaning behind crispy bacon, and I’m all in for their hashbrowns. My Hoosier husband even gave their sausage gravy two thumbs up! When we were there yesterday, the Sunday morning crowd was representative of church folks, grannies and gramps, a darling high school couple on a date (playing footsie under the table), a group of floppy haired bros (maybe a little hung over), a few folks clearly down on their luck, multi generational families, and two older ladies with their cute elder dog in the booth. The restaurant was busy, but friendly and the patrons all seemed happy to bide their time, enjoy coffee refills, and catch up with one another.

Me likey! We will definitely be going back.

In my world, there is a certain sanctity about the breakfast spot. It’s got to have a feeling about it that separates it from Denny’s or Waffle House or. most other places. It needs that small town, family run vibe that makes me feel just as welcome there as at my own kitchen table. I’m happy to be called “hon” and to read advertisements off of a paper placemat. At Cloverleaf, the ads are on the coffee mugs, so I looked at Jim’s cup, since my feelings on coffee are well documented.

This place ticked all the boxes.

Now, that’s not to say that I won’t be venturing around the town and trying new spots, but there is a gold standard for the Bloomington Breakfast right now and all other contenders will have to measure up.

See you at the Cloverleaf—South.