When I was a kid, my dad had a few core beliefs.
If you’re not up and working by 7 a.m., you might as well sleep the rest of the day.
There’s a special circle of Hell reserved for those who leave any amount of meat, however small, on a chicken wing, pork chop, or bone-in steak.
No single-purpose thing will be improved by making it multi-purpose.
This last one I’ve found most inarguable. I’ve never slept on any couch that folds out into a bed without waking up sore and grumpy. Combination shampoo/conditioners are for suckers with dandruff. The spork is an insult to both the spoon and fork, the worst of all possible worlds.
The exception, of course, is the Swiss Army knife. When my dad bought me my first one, as a young Boy Scout, he gloried in all the things it could do and do well. Keep one with you and you will, like a good Scout, always Be Prepared.
Restaurants, though, are no exception. The drive to do too many things at once is almost always disastrous. An Indian restaurant with pizza on the menu? A salad at a fried chicken joint? A pub serving fish and chips as well as pasta? The reddest of flags. Light-up neon danger signs.
That’s what makes Bagner & Alexa’s Breakfast and Lunch on Spring Garden Street so remarkable.
It’s not that they do both breakfast and lunch. Most solid diners can do that standing on their heads. It’s that you’ll find all the hallmarks of great diner food there — club sandwiches, reubens, and burgers with crispy home fries; pancakes, waffles, omelets, and country fried steak. But you’ll also find some really killer Mexican food — and not just in the “Taste of Mexico” portion of their menu.
I’m talking huevos rancheros and huevos con chorizo, bistec omelettes with avocado and jalapeno; sopes and chilaqueles verdes and rojas.I’m talking traditional corn tortillas, real deal salsas at every table, and dishes made with fresh ingredients and obvious care and affection — all served by the sort of diner waitresses who are definitely going to call you baby, honey, or sugar irrespective of your gender.
A truly great diner, like a mechanic you can really trust, is a rare and sacred thing. You’re looking for simplicity and efficiency, yes. But not at the expense of quality. Not the sort of place you appreciate ironically, or where you’ll eat occasionally to remember the late-night and early morning post-debauchery meals of your youth. A place you could and would bring anyone, from a new work colleague to your out-of-town in-laws. A place where everyone will find a superlative version of something deceptively simple — chicken and waffles, a BLT, or Philly cheese steak. You don’t want them offering up lobster or otherwise flying too close to the sun.
And yet.
Take the simple and delicious core competencies of the traditional American diner menu. Marry them with the simple and delicious fare of an above-average Mexican restaurant — especially Mexican breakfast, too often slept on this far from the West Coast. Then you’ve got yourself a Swiss Army knife.
Throw in a location just off UNCG’s campus, in a small strip with a tattoo parlor and a laundromat, and it’s almost too perfect. The sort of better-than-it-needs-to-be place that seems like a detail from a half-remembered dream. In this case, you’re awake and it’s very real. Have the enchiladas verdes with a couple of over-easy eggs, whatever time you happen to get out of bed.