Goldy’s. Breakfast. Everyday.

The indicators are good: one block off the main drag, just across from the Capitol building. Inauspicious looking, no view in from the outside. I head in and take the last remaining seat at the counter. Two types of ketchup, four different hot sauces and Goldy’s house seasoning are lined up a carousel at each seat. Bodes well.

The place is small, maybe 50 seats but there are about a dozen staff; a guy at the door to greet, three behind the counter pouring coffee and walking out the orders from the tiny kitchen where four guys are doing everything to order. There are two others at separate stations, one for teas and other beverages and one for toast. The owners move around fetching stock from the back room keeping the operation running. I order one of the house specials, Andalusian eggs; Asparagus, chorizo, tomatoes and eggs done house style.

While they put this together in the kitchen I notice a sign on the wall says that unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy. I am struggling to discern the humour in this—is it intentionally facetious? Seems unlikely: anyone born south-west of New Jersey can be relied to be stalwartly un-ironic and we are a long way south-west of New Jersey.

Ten minutes later my coffee cup has been topped-up at least ten times and my Andalusian eggs comes out from the kitchen. Asparagus, chorizo, tomatoes and two fried eggs. On a plate. The guy next to me spreads Goldy’s hot sauce on his sourdough toast. I take his lead and do the same. Fantastic. Best breakfast of the tour so far.