Yesterday I went down to the Post Office in Courtenay Place. It was about 2.30, and not having had lunch yet I looked around for somewhere I could eat.
Of course Courtenay Place and side streets are chocka with eateries of all ilks: Malaysian, Japanese, European, fusion, Chinese, Thai, Lebanese, Greek — you name it, you’ll probably find it. But none of them appealed. I had a headache that had been with me for days, I was tired and not feeling the best.
Then my eye fell on Kenny’s Cafe. I realised I’d seen it there for years, but had never eaten there. The fact that it had survived for years was a recommendation in itself.
When I stepped in, I immediately felt comfortable. It is a good old-fashioned Kiwi cafe from decades ago. It’s smallish, filled with plain wooden tables and simple chairs. The walls are wood on the lower part and plain, clean painted on the top, with motel-style bland art. Each table had a simple (white) sugar shaker and old-fashioned salt and pepper — the plain kind, not fancy rock salt or black pepper.
The menu was equally satisfactory. I paid $7.50 for a plate of poached eggs on white toast, with grilled tomato. Since I can’t eat onion I asked my routine question about ‘sprinkles’. With good humour, they assured me they don’t do sprinkles. Hooray!
After a short wait a plate was delivered with exactly what I wanted to eat. Perfectly cooked plain poached eggs on beautifully buttered ordinary white toast, with slices of grilled tomato.
No pretensions. No puffery. No fancy ‘drizzles’ of this or sculpted that. Down home, plain and simple filling, nourishing comfort food. Perfect.