Succotash stands out as a pop of bright color against an otherwise grey city block, especially on a rainy Saturday morning. Located at 26th and Holmes in Kansas City, Mo., my friends and I got there in about 25 minutes with help from Google Maps.
Large, green-framed windows dominated the exterior, with a brick column in front of the door displaying the restaurant’s name in every color of the rainbow. Two friends and I squeezed through a throng of at least ten people huddling under the awning to get inside. We put our name in only to reluctantly shuffle back outside when there was no room to stand on the busy restaurant floor to endure our 25-minute wait.
The wait was to be expected because Succotash doesn’t accept reservations, but to my pleasant surprise, we were called in only after about 10 minutes.
My friends and I sat down at a table in the middle of the restaurant floor, between a large wooden bar and the opposite wall. I had to awkwardly pull my turquoise chair out so that I didn’t hit the hipster seated about ten inches away to sit down on the soft, dark blue cushion facing the back wall. The thin menu sitting on the clean white tabletop gave the false impression that there wouldn’t be much in it.
The first page offered a variety of juices with names like the ‘Lawnmower’ and the ‘Ninja Sunrise.’ I flipped through the coffee bar, soups and salads, pancakes, waffles, french toast, eggs, sandwiches, omelets and finally their ‘famous eight-layer citrus cake’ before finding myself utterly overwhelmed by the choices.
Being in such a different place made me want to try getting out of my french-toast-and-bacon box, so I ordered the special — chocolate chip zucchini bread french toast along with bacon, two poached eggs and a coffee. It was a little different from my usual fare, but I guess change doesn’t come easily.
With the stress of figuring out what to order lifted off my shoulders, I enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere. The white walls and ceiling combined with the bright colors and light coming in from the big windows made the crowded restaurant feel open. It wasn’t too loud, even though there wasn’t an open table in the whole restaurant.
While we were waiting for our food, the waitress came back with a coffee pot in hand. With some cream and a little sweetener, my coffee from Oddly Correct, a local Kansas City roaster, was as good as any coffee I’ve had.
Everything in the restaurant went together in the sense that nothing matched. One side of windows had purple curtains and the other had blue. Old-style chandeliers hanging from one side somehow didn’t clash with the modern lighting hanging on the other side of the two mint-green columns that divided the floor. I couldn’t see much of the old-style ceiling because of all the contemporary art that hung on the walls.
The wooden bar had a huge mirror adorned with white metal birds attached to multi-colored metal and turquoise-cushioned stools that looked like they came out of a 1950s diner. A statue of a monkey wearing Mardi Gras beads sat at the bar right next to where we were sitting.
After the waitress sat my not-too-long awaited food in front of me, I noticed that there was nothing fancy with the presentation. It looked like something you would actually eat, as opposed to some restaurants where what they put in front of you looks like something that would have a ‘no flash photography’ sign next to it.
And then I unceremoniously dug in.
‘So. Good.’ was the first thing that came out of anyone’s mouth.
My three slices of chocolate chip zucchini bread french toast tasted like I was having dessert for a meal. They were rich, and really thick. I didn’t even need syrup, which is unusual because I usually have so much that my pancakes are basically swimming.
My bacon was not the lame kind that’s light as a feather and crunchy. It was thick and juicy and I needed two hands to eat it because it was so heavy. I have to applaud Succotash for getting the eggs right ─ with completely runny yolk ─ because it’s not easy to do. A little bit of salt and pepper made them perfect for offsetting my dessert-like main dish.
There was no way I was going to be able to eat all of it by myself. I needed backup if I was going to clean my plate. By the end of it I was full to bursting and more than satisfied.
I got back from the bathroom to find that the waitress had drawn a heart on the check she left on the table. It was then that I realized that not asking for the price of the special was probably a mistake. My breakfast and my coffee had cost 15 dollars of my hard-earned money, but it was worth it.
Feeling like I successfully got out of my box and into a cool new experience, we left a tip and made our way out of the still-crowded restaurant and back into the rain.
Leave a Reply