Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Breakfast is Earl’s favorite meal; and, in the time we’ve lived in St. Joseph, he has scouted the restaurants, cafes, diners, and fast food chains for the best eggs in town. Of course, he has his requirements.

It must be a sit-down place (which actually omits fast food) where the server shows up with coffee while Earl is still taking off his coat. Water can come later. It must have a special on the menu, such as the 2 by 2 by 2 by 2. For the uninitiated, that’s two eggs, two pieces of bacon, two sausages, and two pancakes. Earl is into a hearty breakfast, not necessarily to be confused with a healthy one.

This morning, I went off to breakfast with him. I don’t go often, since it’s my least favorite meal. (Remember opposites attract here.) We went to Jimmy’s Buffet where you can have all you can eat for a mere six dollars. Steam tables gleamed with pancakes, waffles, eggs, biscuits, gravy, bacon, sausage and the token piece of fruit to assuage guilt feelings.

I settled for ordering off the menu, since buffets intimidate me. I can’t eat enough to feel as if I got my money’s worth. So I ordered one poached egg, an English muffin, and sliced tomatoes in place of hash browns. Undaunted by my effort to eat smart, Earl ordered the 2 by 2 etc.

In minutes, the waitress returned with our orders and we dug in. I managed to leave food, but Earl in true fashion cleaned his plate. He’s been to Jimmy’s so often that when the waitress came to remove the dishes she asked, “How was everything?” “Didn’t like it,” replied Earl. “I can see,” said the server, “you left some yolk stuck there.”

I think Earl’s final criteria for a breakfast place is the ability to tease the waitress.