Harbaugh's

I realized this morning that after 2 1/2 years of living in Carbondale, I have never blogged about our favorite local spot, Harbaugh's Cafe. We have Chase and Alisha to thank for introducing us to this glorious culinary delight. One of the first weeks we attended our church, they invited us for lunch. We stumbled on over to some little place on a street that was kind of familiar and into the door of what looked to be a dive. We discovered quickly that Chase was a foodie, so when he said this place was good despite appearances pointing in the other direction, we believed him.

I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu, Viva la France, their own little twist on French Toast. Alisha ordered the same. Good sign. The decor is quirky and delightful. I began to look around and notice that there were some real characters in there. Waitresses wearing tutus, retired ol' country boys sipping coffee, college kids in who appeared to have rolled in wearing last night's bar clothes, and families in their Sunday best. Good food brings diversity, I thought. If this many different people have chosen to have their Sunday brunch here, I thought, it must be good.

And it was, oh, how it was. To this day, I've only ever ordered the Viva la France with Ranch Potatoes. It's so good that I can't bear the thought of going there and not eating it. Kyle, likewise, only ever orders the ham and mushroom Skillet. Perhaps we're not very adventurous, or perhaps those dishes have some sort of addictive properties.

If you're ever in Carbondale from 7am to 2pm on any given day, I would HIGHLY suggest you eat there. I don't think you'll regret it. Don't let the polka dots fool you, or the fact that the rest of the old building seems to be crumbling, this place is seriously good.
It's the kind of place to which you can wear pajama pants, and no one says anything or looks at you funny. Except, of course, for the crazy girl across the room who's taking pictures of you!What a delicious spread!
The Viva la France, you'll never want French Toast from anywhere else again. Trust me on this. If you like eating French Toast at Bob Evans, or if you think your mother's is great, by all means, DO NOT order this. You won't be able to go back.
The Skillet omelet. I don't really what it consists of. I'm too scared of mushrooms to even ask my husband. Let's just say, it has him in raptures, so that's good enough for me.
Please excuse our gluttony while we lick our plates clean.