Side street cafe is a tiny place, with limited seating. However, the food is worth the wait. I moved here from texas a few years ago and can honestly say I had forgotten how much I loved Texas food until I went to Side Street. The best dishes are Tex-Mex, like huevos rancheros. However, they do have healthier options for the calorie conscious (though few). I can’t wait to go back and try lunch.

My only negative is the wait-staff, who seem a little confused as to whom has which table in such a small place. Hopefully, they will expand to a few more tables.

I should’ve read the reviews before coming here first, because looking at their hand-written menu I had no idea what was good. I ordered the Cheapskate meal #2, not because it was ‘cheap’ but it was the only thing in the menu that had coffee, pancakes, and eggs (salty+sweet combination). I’m sure the other food is good, but in the morning I usually crave something sweet and salty.

First impressions: So I came here @ 11 for brunch with my old high school friends. The place (like the bottom reviews had mentioned) is pretty small, but miraculously there was a table open for us. There is also outside seating for a good sunny day. It reminded me of an old diner, and there are some humorous signs and proverbs from the 70’s and 80s on the wall to read.

Food:
Coffee: Tasted like a generic blend. Add some cubed sugar and creamer and it was good. Not great, not bad.
Scrambled eggs + bacon: Something I could’ve made myself!
Pancakes: Big ol’ pancakes that I wolfed down. Filled me up.

This review is to be taken with a grain of salt though, as I didn’t order their more ‘specialty’ items as suggested by the below reviewers. Next time I go i’ll order something more specific than bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Can’t expect much from a “Cheapskate Menu” tho, but still thought it was overpriced @ $8.00

side street cafe’s nostalgic let-the-little-things-slide type mentality, seemingly borrowed cutlery, and floor-to-rafter family mementos is effectively eclipsed by simple things that we all eventually take for granted: over medium eggs that aren’t over and done with, S**t on a Shingle that tastes so much better than the name implies, the very real possibility of finding a piece of shell in your omelet, actually wanting to finish your food, being cooked for as if you were a guest whom they wanted to see again.

The menu, a handwritten work in progress, tells you exactly what you will be receiving. No verbal embellishments required.

Pizza-Full – adj: a reflexive state of eating “just one more” over and over again due to a conviction that it is too good waste.

Yes…it’s crowded, the place is cramped, the wait invariably long on weekends, and you will very likely find yourself sharing a table with two or more other people. So what?! The atmosphere seems to have been custom tailored to accentuate a facet of what made home cooked meals so good. To be surrounded by people who shared a common goal to be fed by people who wanted nothing more than to feed them.

some may recall a time when your dishes consisted of hand-me-downs, garage sale conquests, and orphaned goodwill dinnerware. when the quality of your ramen and instant quaker oatmeal had to compensate for mismatched bowls and saucers. though I don’t miss those days (very much) my recollection seems a bit more fond having off of the same exact plates I swore I never wanted to see again.