So it took two passes back and forth from Dengeo's to finally spot Patty's in its scarcely-marked space.
What a dive! I have a high tolerance for ramshackle restaurants but Patty's looks like it moved into the space around midnight last night, and depending on how things go, may yet throw all its possessions in the truck and light out for the state line tonight. If it gets a GNR it'll mark a momentous occasion in the history of the restaurant-- the first time anything was hung on the wall.
But enough flattery about the delicately conceived ambience. That ham hash, depicted above, harmonizes manly chunks of bone-in ham and crisply fried potatoes and fresh-cooked eggs into a perfect example of the classic American breakfast, the sort of thing that can almost never be screwed up yet still manages to surprise you, one out of a hundred times in one out of a hundred roadside joints, with how well it can be made.
Younger son had a perfectly rendered pancake topped with whipped cream; older son had biscuits and gravy, which weren't my style, a savory brown gravy too Thanksgivingy for me, but he ate 'em up just fine. I think Josephine does the place only one disservice in her nomination, suggesting that after a couple of visits the sisters of Patty will treat you like a regular. I'd say it's more like after about a minute and a half.
I was starting to worry that the Great Neighborhood Restaurant awards were turning a bit posh, what with two Food & Wine Best New Chefs up for it this time. Patty's restores my faith that at bottom the award is mostly about joints where fantastic food is served with change back from a ten.