I take breakfast very seriously. Leaving San Francisco meant leaving the Pork Store Cafe. This fact alone made it hard to move. So it was important that we find a breakfast place on par with the Pork Store as soon as possible, to make our transition easier. We found it in Fuller’s at NW 9th and Davis.
Oh Fuller’s, you are so very delicious. I love your fresh baked breads, your sweet bowls of jams, and your perfect eggs. Your hash browns are divine and so are your waitresses. Your charming ex-con cook makes me smile, even at 6:30 in the morning when I should be at home in my warm bed. Your breakfast meats are thick and tasty. Your coffee, well, I’ll live.
I took Tom to the airport this morning so very early. It wasn’t yet 6am when I pulled out of the airport. I tried my best to navigate my way home, but the Fuller’s vortex was pulling me in. I did not resist. I missed my freeway exit and found myself hurtling towards my destiny. Who was I to deny it. I was the only female there other than my lovely waitress. The place was crawling with 60 year old jovial men. I read my vegetable garden seed guide and tried to look inconspicuous. My waitress thought she recognized me but it was probably just because I belong there. It was a like a sort of homecoming. Returning to the land of perfect breakfasts. Thank you Fuller’s.
Fuller's near perfect breakfasts
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