It was a few months ago, when I went to the kite festival in Berkeley - that Mr S. and I needed to find a breakfast place. For some reason we decided on this place in Oakland called Lois the Pie Queen.
Not knowing if it was a good or bad area of Oakland we were a little apprehensive. But, look at the name! Who wouldn't risk it?
It's the kind of place where the cooks are wearing Che t-shirts, and the patrons are straight out of a movie. This weekend when were were there, a couple of guys were dressed like they were in the matrix. Everyone just has very big personalities. And, the owners always greet you with a "welcome" instead of a hello. A little like being wrapped up in a warm towel from the dryer.
Well, this has set off the most unhealthy love affair with food that I think I've ever experienced. All over grits. Oh yes. I said it. Grits. I'm going to provide you with a picture in case you've never heard of them. But none of these look like the Grits from Lois the Pie Queen. Here. It's honestly like a bowl of love.
Now, I lived in the south for a while and didn't really care much for grits. All of a sudden I'm having a love affair with them. Not to mention everything they serve just looks great. Which forces you to order stuff you wouldn't normally eat. Like fried chicken for breakfast. Something I would never do. You can't get in a habit of having fried chicken for breakfast. Honestly. But OMG.
Anyway. I still don't know how good or bad the neighborhood is. A couple of times on the news people have been killed within blocks of the place. It is Oakland. Yet, I'd risk getting a cap in my ass because their food is that good. And I don't care about the Che shirts. I can look away from the love of communism for a minute. They could be having an entire revolution in the restaurant, and I would just look on. Eating my grits. Seriously.
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