I had an early morning meeting in Wichita. After it was done I decided to visit the Beacon Cafe.
I’ve wanted to go there for years, but their hours are somewhat limited. They close at 3. Obviously, it’s a breakfast place.
Breakfast was what I had. I always like to try biscuits and gravy if I’m somewhere new. It’s my yardstick for breakfast.
Now, I’m not going to say that their gravy was homemade and not from a mix, because I’m never sure unless I see it being made. But, I will say that if it was a mix, it’s not one I have had before.
I am a “supertaster,” a person who has very sensitive tastebuds, and I could list a few places who claim their gravy is homemade that use the same mixes. For the record, I don’t consider adding milk or water to a packaged mix to be “homemade.” That seems to be many people’s definition of “home cooking” these days.
I could launch into my diatribe about how we’ve forgotten how to feed ourselves, and what an incredibly bad thing that is, and how it indicates an end of the species, but that would make this entry far too long. So, I’ll save that for another day.
The Beacon’s parking lot faces the Wichita Eagle Beacon loading dock. I’m sure you get the connection there.
Just in case you didn’t get the connection, a mural on the side of the Beacon Cafe is there to help you make it.
The place was full of regulars – some reading the newspaper, appropriately enough. You can always spot a regular a mile away and I think I was the only one who didn’t fall into that category.