Instinct tells me that a place called Granny's is going to be jammed on a weekend morning, so I go on a Tuesday. Dang, it's hoppin' on weekdays, too. Apparently word of their great breakfasts at Granny's, located in a cubby hole in a strip mall on Glenwood, has spread over the years.
There's a lunch menu, too, but the whole family with me unanimously agrees that breakfast it will be. We all order a different omelet except Ma, who gets the special, which is scrambled eggs with sausage and a side of hash browns and puny-size scone (aka fried dough). Prices are steep, around seven clams per dish, considering there mustn't be much overhead-they aren't spending profits on decor, what with the fluorescent lights and wood panel walls that have probably been there since inception.
"It's hard to impress with breakfast food," Ma muses as we wait for the grub. Some construction workers are in and out while we're still waiting. But when the food finally comes, all four of us like the large looks of it.
My huge cheddar and mushroom omelet is spilling over the side of potatoes. Sweet! Sis digs her veggie omelet that's also loaded with nutritional goods and Pa has the best one of all, the Western, which is pretty much the veggie plus beans inside-a great textury addition.
"There sure is a lot of sausage in mine," Ma says, apparently impressed with the dolings. "Anyone want some?" But we've already scarfed our meals and we're full. In fact, I didn't even finish mine.
Granny's food overall ranks high on taste, fair on value but it truly is an unattractive, old-fashioned joint-though I'm strangely attracted to it. Perhaps because of its name, as my own granny didn't join us for this family breakfast.
-Jennifer Gelband is an orphan who talks to angels.