Dave C.
Yelp
This review makes me sad because my family and I have so many memories from this Potholder, and I can't see myself ever going back.
This used to be the best neighborhood breakfast place in the area, which was saying something considering how many breakfast places are within a 1-mile radius. Unfortunately, I can't say that about Potholder anymore.
Pre-pandemic, you could walk in even on the busiest days and feel warmly greeted by friends. Moe, Dana, and Beth were fixtures here, and more like extended family as they watched my son grow up. We went to their birthday parties and they came to ours, even though we've never set foot in each other's homes. The restaurant was our mutual home, but it doesn't feel like home anymore.
Sure, it was gritty, and perhaps the pure definition of a "greasy spoon" before, but it felt good. The faded pictures on the wall of people posting their "Eat at Potholder" signs from all corners of the planet is a testament to the importance of this place in the neighborhood.
Since the pandemic, the place has seen an interior overhaul. Perhaps it was necessary, but when you walk in now, it feels cold and surprisingly empty even if people are sitting at the tables. Those photos on the wall now feel like an epitaph of a time that will never return, and to the faces we will never see again.
On our visit today, the staff was under-enthused about us showing up 45 minutes before closing (what breakfast/lunch place shuts down at 1 pm on a Friday?) only to stand waiting for any sign of acknowledgment. The young server, in what I can assume was her very first server position ever, made an attempt to find us a table, but somehow got distracted by something shiny and she forgot about us. At least an attempt was made because the other server on duty didn't even acknowledge our existence.
When the first girl finally remembered us, she looked around aimlessly trying to figure out which table to put us at, finally deciding on the one table that still needed to be bussed from the previous guests. That added another 5 minutes to our wait (yes it took that long).
Finally being seated, she disappeared again for another 10 minutes, moving in all directions with no sense of organization and workflow. 5 of those minutes were inputting an order from the table of 4 adjacent to us. They were there long before we walked in, so I can only imagine how long they had to wait.
My wife had to be home before 1 pm for a work-related call and the delays almost forced us to get up and leave in order to get her some food before the call.
Another couple walked in the door waiting to be seated, and at the same time, the server finally made it back to our table, passing them again without any acknowledgment. We made quick work of ordering because time was short, and off she went, still not looking at the couple at the door. Server #2 still couldn't be bothered.
Another 5 minutes passed as our server took time to input our order. I thought, "Were we going to have any time at all to eat at this point? Maybe we should get it to go."
The exasperated couple at the door finally left, still with no acknowledgment from the two servers. I looked up at the kitchen window filled with plates waiting to be sent out to tables, but instead sitting too long under the heat lamps.
Thank goodness for the kitchen staff who were the only ones doing timely work. Our food came quickly, but we still had a limited amount of time to eat. I told the server that we needed to leave pretty quickly and asked for the check early. The only thing she did with expediency was run our debit card.
I had breakfast burritos, my wife had a cheese omelet, both were good, but we both ignored the undercooked and soggy side of potatoes. I won't pretend that The Potholder had perfect food all those years. There were times when things were spotty at best, but we accepted that in exchange for that sense of place.
It wasn't just the food; it was the family, all of which are gone now... and so are we. Thanks for the memories, ladies.
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Oh, and to the current owners, a tip: Perhaps keep your snarky replies to yourself. No sense in exposing your soft, overly-sensitive underbelly. If anything was a final nail in the coffin for us, it was that.
Also, Fridays used to be banging at PH. Perhaps some self-reflection on why that isn't the case anymore.