The bacon was crispy, too

A few years ago, a group of friends and I used to go out every Saturday morning for breakfast. And one of our regular stops was the Perry Street Cafe . Big breakfasts, decent prices, and if you got there early enough — no later than 8:30 — you could actually find an open table.

My only qualm was that the coffee always tasted, hmmmm … well, not up to my tastes, you know? So I took to eating there and then walking down the street to order good coffee at The Shop.

That old group of friends is mostly gone now, scattered to the winds of fate. But my pal Jim and I stopped by the cafe this morning for old time’s sake. Same as ever.

And, as always, I passed on the coffee. Got high standards, you know.