Tag Archives: Berkeley

Missing Berkeley Series – Larry Thrasher

Missing Berkeley Series – Larry Thrasher

From my “Missing Berkeley” series– Meeting Larry Thrasher from Psychic TV– 2000

Berkeley California

Every day I passed by a gray building with covered windows that grace pictures of Meher Baba’ and wonder what is inside. You imagine that there might be some secret gathering of mystic people or philosophers inside planning the outcome of the world. Or is there something else going on? One day those same windows become filled with trinkets that beckon you. Little bits of joy that three people have worked hard to collect to brighten your day.

You think you recognize the man’s name that you are talking to as you listen to the magical words filling your brain. Stories of a musical group do not really register as you are too busy carefully writing down notes.You hear tales of journeys, faith and hard work while you feel like you are gazing at every small oddity of the world.

Suddenly tales of the tabla and India are somehow introduced into the conversation and you hang on to every word. Originally you are told, part of the treasured items came from a store on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood. The rest found their way by themselves to be loved, cherished and sold. Of course not everything can be perfect in this little store of wonder.

Suddenly stories of the city wanting them to comply with their beige canopy world rules fill your ears. Understanding completely, you nod your head as you have gone through the same thing yourself once upon a time. You know first hand that creativity and passion seldom mix with the straight edge population of the world.

Then you hear his thoughts of turning part of the store into a place where artists might build an art scene from scratch, like in the film Cool School. Life should be nothing but a world full of art and music without rules and regulations.You seem to return back to conversations about India where merchants are not suppressed like they are here and hear that India is all about life, community and culture.

He speaks about poverty being worse than what you have seen in the film Slumdog Millionaire.People in India are far happier than in America but their biggest fear is of globalization. Even with the high poverty level, people are very well educated and there is more brain power there than there is in America.As I am shown a very old Victorian knife taken out from inside the counter, I hear how each time he steps on Indian soil he feels like he is home. The smells of diesel and curry that fill the air are now very comforting to him.As I feel the smooth canvas bags made by the organization Prithvi I am told that the money received for these bags are for the village women that construct them to make their lives better. I hear about non profits I have never heard about like: World Sisters United, Kuya International and other groups that have merchandise in the store or receive support.

You realize that you were right in your assumption that this curio shop was exactly what you had thought it was. In two hours you had been fed visual curiosities and had answers about some of the world that you had no idea about. I walk down the street looking at his name in my notebook. Wading through the files of my aging mind it finally clicks. I have just enjoyed a couple of hours of conversation with Larry Thrasher who used to be in the band Psychic TV.

You start to remember a few of their songs but instantly the strains of the tabla overtake you as you do not want to lose the soundtrack of the last few mystical hours.

This was written early 2000- Life is a mystical and tragic thing. It is a journey often full of fear, when it ought to be full of hope. It’s fascinating to look back on your life and feel as though most of it was a precursor to the rest of it; to what was always supposed to be. Thanks to Sage, Larry and Timigin for their hospitality. Linda SeccaspinaI could have written a lot more about Larry Thrasher but this was about the story of the curio shop and that was not my mission. Psychic TV was a famous video art and music group that performed psychedelic punk, electronic and experimental music.

It Wasn’t the Dress — Reckless in Berkeley

It Wasn’t the Dress — Reckless in Berkeley

Based on true thoughts of the song by Romeo Void and Aidan Quinn

I grew up on television as a child. Shows like Donna Reed and Father’s Knows Best promoted “the high school prom” as a magical thing that was special. I remember they always said: “it will only happen once, and then it’s gone forever and you’ll never have it back”.

Well, let’s face it I hated high school and just wanted to graduate and be done. I wasn’t a scholar unless it was literature, history or art, and I knew from a very young age I wanted to become a fashion designer. Being a mathematician wasn’t my calling and even getting honours in other subjects I was held back a year because of math– and that kind of put a small tear in the crinoline as they say.

As far back as I can recall every May, all the school classes were brought to the Cowansville High School  gym to see how the graduating class had decorated for the annual dance. It was always the most beautiful use of crepe paper that we students had ever seen and I always went home and designed what I imagined I would wear to that particular dance.

The first dress I ever designed for my imaginary prom was a burgundy lace dress I had seen in the Simpson’s Sears catalogue. It had a high ruffled neck, empire waist, and a very romantic look. I did end up wearing it to a Christmas dance but by the time I finished the dress, it looked nothing like the one in the catalogue. My dad said I had better invest in a girdle because it was so tight.

A year later the graduating class’s theme was “Under the Sea” and my creation was a peach, yes peach, crepe, yes crepe, angel dress. It had a very gathered bodice and flowing cathedral sleeves. The dress turned out alright but somehow I got the length really wrong. It barely covered my derriere and I only wore it in the house and never did that dress grace the outside nor see a dance floor.

I created many dresses for my imaginary prom events, even wearing out my Mystery Date Game in the 60s. Mystery Date was very popular during my teens with the ultimate goal of collecting outfits around the board to get that perfect outfit for your dream date for the prom. I didn’t win that often even though I had a full outfit, but the boy waiting behind the door never seemed to be a match.

By 1999 I still had not gone to a prom and because I seemed to dress every day in things that I had designed I had let the notion go of ever going to one. It was only a dance after all– even though 1950s and 1960s TV had tried to convince me otherwise, and let’s face it I was now 48.

Living in Oakland, California my now husband and I went most weekends to 924 Gilman in West Berkeley. “The Gilman” is now a landmark mostly associated with being the springboard for the ’90s punk revival led by bands like Green Day, Operation Ivy, and other popular punk bands. Our passion has always been music and Steve moonlighted as a DJ for KALX and was a music reviewer. One week they decided to have a Punk Prom and I was so excited that I would be finally going to a prom with a date. What would I wear?

924 Gilman Celebrates 30 Years of Bay Area Punk Rock Glory | SF ...


By now I knew it wasn’t about the dress so I could follow any theme as there wasn’t one– and, when did I ever follow a theme? Instead of going for a traditional look I opted for a white bustier, a fairy skirt, white fishnets, my big black Doc Martens and a cone of hair on either side of my head. 

I am sitting here now at age 69 years of age wondering after all those years why I ended up choosing to look like Punk Rock Heidi? Well, my prom outfit is not your prom outfit and after all, it could have been worse– it could have been a dress needing a girdle or something that would flash your moonpies.

But, I did get my slow dance with my Prince Charming and maybe that’s all I ever wanted. In reality everybody makes the graduation dance out like it’s some big ‘rite of passage to adulthood’ or something. It’s not. It’s just another dance, and if you can’t be the prom queen it’s okay to be the dancing queen which I loved to be in those days. After all if you remember your fairy tales Cinderella never asked for a prince– she just asked for a night off, a nice dress and a prince.

This is my favourite grad clip

We saw the Dropkick Murphys at 924 Gilman in 1999

The Solar Eclipse of 1918

The Solar Eclipse of 1918


Photo Linda Seccaspina Berkeley Ca. 2012


Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  08 Sep 1905, Fri,  Page 11

Almonte  June 7 1918

The solar eclipse on Saturday evening was the centre of attraction of all those astronomical and otherwise Inclined- , It was rather cloudy about the time the eclipse was taking place. However, some of the clouds passed and about 7 o’clock a
fairly good glimpse was obtainable. Then the disc of the sun was about two-thirds covered. The eclipse; was not a total one from a Canadian viewpoint and the nearest Canadian point of totality was at Victoria, B.C.




Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  11 May 1918, Sat,  Page 18



Clipped from The Salt Lake Herald-Republican,  08 Jul 1918, Mon,  Page 4





Photo Linda Seccaspina Berkeley Ca 2012


Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (US


Screenshot 2017-08-15 at 18.jpg

I have been writing about downtown Carleton Place Bridge Street for months and this is something I really want to do. Come join me in the Domino’s Parking lot- corner Lake Ave and Bridge, Carleton Place at 11 am Saturday September 16 (rain date September 17) for a free walkabout of Bridge Street. It’s history is way more than just stores. This walkabout is FREE BUT I will be carrying a pouch for donations to the Carleton Place Hospital as they have been so good to me. I don’t know if I will ever do another walking tour so come join me on something that has been on my bucket list since I began writing about Bridge Street. It’s always a good time–trust me.



The Hysteria and Overbooking of Hayley’s Comet 1910

From January to June–The Year of Earthquakes 1897

When The Streets of Carleton Place Ran Thick With the Blood of Terror!

When The Streets of Carleton Place Ran Thick With the Blood of Terror!- Volume 1- Part 2

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George Orwell Ponders- Are Knitters Really Felons?






Reposted from a satire story I did in 2010 about Guerrilla Knitters just up the street from me in Berkeley

George Orwell Ponders- Are Knitters Really Felons?

Last year a Breaking News report appeared at approximately 7:38 am on Fox TV. Was it a murder or better yet a drug ring smashed in the East Bay? No, Guerrilla Knitters are being reprimanded for desecrating the letter “T” on the sculpture of “HereThere”. The “words” lie on a deserted piece of grass next to the BART tracks on Adeline Street. Yes, the letter “T” was mugged with hand knitting, and that my friends is now considered a felony.

The 6 foot metal “HereThere” signs are actually in a small green space and were designed by Steven Gillman and Katherine Keefer. Basically ‘Here’ means Berkeley and ‘There’ is North Oakland. Apparently knitters from the Knitting Shop across the street were fed up with the Gertrude Stein reference of Oakland (her hometown) as having “no there there”. So, they knit the night away to cover the letter “T” so both signs would read “Here”.

What angered me was that the city of Berkeley insists that the hand crafted letter “T” – Tea Cozy must be removed because it’s a crime. Seeing I never really see anyone or anything in that small green space except dog poop and it actually gives the whole place some life. Imagine if this was publicized in the Knitting World? Knitters would make pilgrimages to honor the knitting simply called “The Letter T”. The piece covered in colorful squares of hand knitting would inspire Knitting Renaissance Fairs and people would sit at Sweet Adeline’s across the street and enjoy the sites.

Thinking along lines of the 60’s I wonder if there will be more protests of some sort? If the Knitters do not remove said creation will it push the City of Berkeley to consider all public knitting illegal?

Will knitting books be pulled off the shelves and will Grannies be forced to buy their knitting books in the Black Market? Maybe they won’t be so tough and they will allow only the basic and pearl stitch. But if pushed, I can see the headline of The San Francisco Chronicle now.

“All Hand Knitting Banned in Berkeley – Local Knitting Clubs Shut Down”

Signs will be erected behind the neighborhood drug aware signs warning everyone that carrying knitting is grounds for prosecution. Road Speed Bumps will be accessorized with long metal pieces to hopefully unravel knitting hidden in bags. Darkened street corners will encourage territory wars over Mohair Wool. Reflections of silver knitting needles being bought illegally at night will be continuous – gleaming under the city street lights.

Will the Knitting ban spread to San Francisco or to parts of the Peninsula?
Will the State of Arizona now ban the City of Berkeley for placing a halt on Knitting?

I can see women protesting marching in the street with signs of:

“Let the Knitters Knit”
“We will Give up our Lives to Chain Stitch”

The President upon hearing this news will have a live news conference condemning the banning of Knitters. Limbaugh will have countless radio shows blaming the Left and Rand Paul will make more racist comment; only this time about Knitting.

Anderson Cooper from CNN will arrive on the scene and do live broadcasts with his hip waders deep in the muck of City Council tangled in wool.

Unable to control the Knitters, the City of Berkeley will propose building a fence around the city’s perimeter to keep migrating Knitters from coming in. Anyone hiring a Knitter will be jailed and landlords housing Knitters will be fined. Churches will become the only sanctuary for Knitters and they will sit there in the pews quietly knitting slippers. Yes, slippers. Receiving Holiday presents of slippers will become a thing of the past.

So what will become of the Knitters? Will they tell the tales to their grandchildren about escaping to Canada where knitting is legal? Or will they weep as they tell stories of the Underground Knitting tunnels and how they hid in the Oakland Hills? God help us all if Berkeley bans knitting. They might try to enforce substitutions like Macramé and we will have to sit there and listen to Janis Joplin and the Big Brother Holding Co. as we endlessly knot.

Berkeley needs to remember that we need the knitters as no one in the high paying Tech Field will do this job. Have we not had someone in our family tree that came from the origins of knitting making His and Her sweaters?

So I say to you The City of Berkeley. Let them knit! Let the Letter “T” with the Tea Cozy live!

Brought to you ( and you knew this was coming) by the Letter T because honestly Gertrude Stein would have loved it.

“A masterpiece… may be unwelcome but it is never dull.”
Gertrude Stein…



A Bit of San Francisco Right Here in Carleton Place – Thai Me Up!



Ted MacDonald is our food writer here on The Tales of Carleton Place– so I am just pinch hitting when I eat something I like. But, his words are gold, and read his latest What Ales You in Carleton Place this week! You will NEED this information for the Senators play off!

My benchmark Thai restaurant back in Berkeley, California was The Plearn on University Ave. I would often take BART up to Berkeley Main for a dish of Pad Thai with Steve on a whim. Pad Thai is a dish of stir-fried rice noodles some have thought to have been introduced to Ayutthaya during the time of the Ayutthaya Kingdom by Viet traders, and subsequently altered to reflect Thai flavor profiles.

The noodle is suitable to be stir-fried in a pan, and thus the Thai noodle was called Pad Thai. The meats and vegetables in Pad Thai are similar to food prepared by the Cantonese and Tae Chiew (Chao Zhou in Mandarin) from Guangdong province of China. However, the flavors and textures are pure Thai. It is a fast, delicious and nutritious dish, and has become popular in many countries around the world. Pad Thai is listed at number 5 on World’s 50 most delicious foods readers’ poll compiled by CNN Go in 2011.

Okay this is probably more than you want to know, but I have been on a quest for good Pad Thai in Carleton Place for awhile now. I understand the Vietnamese restaurant Saigon Delight on Bridge Street carries it also but have yet to try it. If you have a review of theirs I would love to print it as I love pointing out ALL good food in Carleton Place.

I saw a review about Fisherman’s Palace and many good comments were posted on Facebook. I am going to be honest after being in the bay area (capital of Asian food) for years– I have become an Asian food snob. Again, the old KFC building was also not really screaming ‘chinese food’ to me, but I was totally wrong.

I have had Pad Thai from Fishman’s Palace a few times and I can tell you it Is as close to the Plearn that I will ever get. Believe me, there is plenty of bad Pad Thai out there – many versions are too sweet or ketchupy, but a true Pad Thai, however, is a thing of beauty.

I have yet to try other dishes from here but I hear their eggrolls and Thai soup are to die for. The owners used to have a restaurant on Somerset Street in Ottawa but made the move to share their good food in Carleton Place. Now you can eat well here and travel less!


Unemployed? Here is one Tough Cookie



I  have always admired people that take their lives into their own hands and do something about it. Just like Cookie. Who is Cookie? That would be the gentleman above. Several days a week I have seen this guy with a sign in hand, standing on the side of the road on the Oakland, Berkeley border. Yes, standing in the sun for hours on end; hawking his delicious burritos.


His real name is Corey Stowe, and he and his wife Elizabeth August are working their butts off to make a dime. You see, Corey worked in construction for years, and then got hurt. He had to decide what to do, and they came up with this  fabulous idea. So while he is out there selling his wares from his food cart, his wife is on Twitter and Facebook telling people where he is located.


Their food cart is called Guerrilla Grub and their motto is to satisfy the people on the streets of Oakland, one breakfast burrito at a time. He sells foil-wrapped $3 breakfast burritos mostly at the MacArthur Bart station. Plus, he is as genuine as they come, and does everything with a smile. That says a lot to me. He likes what he does, even if it is a real hard job. He knows this is his shot and he is going for the gold.


I understand it takes money to start a small business, but sometimes it can be started with just a small amount- but yes a whole lot of commitment and hard work is needed. And of course, a good idea.

Money isn’t the answer to the problems, it helps keep us fed, clothed, and a  roof over our heads. Yes, it’s a necessity for those things, but it  doesn’t provide us with happiness.”
People like Cookie and his wife have the right idea.  Jobs are scare. It is time to go out and create our own.

It’s to be tough to be a cowboy these days riding a difficult range, but in Cookie’s case, he is riding one heck of a delicious burrito.

Call the Fireman Pole Dancer- Joel Stein is in my Stomach


Well, I was all set to do my first Foodie Tuesday post and then my stomach some  how got upset .

You see, I read Joel Stein’s Time Magazine article about his neighbourhood. Joel  Stein thought he was being humourous with his supposed satire about his  immigrant  neighbours in Edison New Jersey. It was just not a bulk complaint  against all immigrants, it was sadly about Indians. But some how his undertones  in this article scared me.

He complained how the first immigrated Indians brought in their less smarter  merchant cousins and how his movie multiplex only shows Bollywood films now. That was just the beginning.

Saturday, I went to a great Indian food place in Berkeley called Viks Chaat  Corner that has been in operation for 18 years.  It started out as a small hole in the wall and progressed to become one of Berkeley’s finest .

Their food is so good  that is has been reviewed by the likes of the San Francisco Chronicle to the New York  Times. In none of the articles I read did I hear them being called “dot heads”  as  in Joel Stein’s article.


Viks is a family run business just like the ones Joel Stein talks about.That is about one of three things he likes about the Indian population. Far better restaurants. Even though he did not eat in them.

Apparently, so do a lot of other people in the Bay area. The line up was out the door.


I know nothing about Indian food except that Samosas are good. So I let Steve pick out a group of things that would have fed half the street. I was thrilled  to see  the mixed cultures harmonously kneeding breads, and stirring pots. Indian mothers, and grandmothers in saris sprinkled with Latinos worked silently in the  steamy open kitchen.

We got four different items that maybe anyone who does not live outside  of the box would  try.Yes, maybe some people like Joel Stein would never try this  delicious food.


There was Bhel Puri which looked like a wet sea gree rice salad with a
questionalble crunchy topping. At first I hated it, but by the second spoonful I was hooked.

Wonderful huge Samosas and Aloo Tiki were the next things I tried. Aloo Tiki  is  made out of potatoes and declicious chickpeas. Ahh, a fibre content to die for.


And, no where Joel Stein, did anyone  talk about: a sense of loss and anomie and  disbelief that anyone can eat food that spicy.

You see Joel Stein, I have always lived in a bubble. My family was a group of  immigrants that came over to Canada and the USA to find a better life.

One of  them even died on Ellis Island trying to be a songwriter in America.They did  menial jobs for years until they owned their own businesses.

I believe, and I am not afraid to say it , that everyone should have a chance  to have a better life.Yes, the educated, and the uneducated.

I picked all sorts of berries for a summer, and believe me none of my peers would do it. The job was not good enough and way too hard for them. How many people do you know that would  do a job like that now?

Would you Joel Stein stir a pot of steaming chickpeas for hours  on end?


Joel, honestly, why did you not speak of all the jobs that were outsourced to India? That is where the real jobs went to, although, they too are feeling the pinch now. People should be reminded of this.

Why did you not speak to the workers that took these jobs that were named Cindy, and Gidget and Chip ?

Yes, they were given American names and taught slang and work for money no one would even consider here. Good thing they did not move to your neighbourhood. You might have not noticed the difference , except for their skin colour.

I have a hard time understanding this fear about immigration that is turning  into hysteria. To me, there is a bigger problem that should be dealt with first.

When I go into a McDonalds in Missouri, and hear an African American young man  working at  the counter being called “boy” , that to me is a problem.

When I sit next to someone in another state and hear someone  at an adjoining table say he would never vote for man that can’t control his woman that is problem number two.

When I see my friend Kevin get upset because he will never have equal partner rights that’s problem number three.

The fact that people of all colours, gays and women are still not equal in a lot of this country  is something  that should be dealt with first. How can a country work harmoniously together  when they are still at odds with themselves?

Joel Stein, I am glad that you had to apologize for that article you wrote. I am  glad you were stomach- sick that you hurt a lot of people. I would really like  to take you  out out for lunch at Viks and talk to you about your article.

I  would also like to ask you about your family’s history and see where they came  from. Are we all not born from families of immigrants?

Joel Stein says

” I am very much in favor of immigration everywhere in the U.S. except Edison,  N.J.”

Too bad you could not repeat that to your ancestors and see what they would have  had to say. Or have you segregated all of them too into proper race containers?


So Joel, call me. Let’s do a cup of Chai.

So much for my Foodie Tuesday piece. Well you can tell by the pictures it was yummy.

Linda Seccaspina

words and images 2010

Joel Stein’s article


Simply Called..The Perfect Breakfast


Simply Called..The Perfect Breakfast


I am sitting here in my pyjamas now dreaming how wonderful it would be for me to get dressed at go to Rick and Ann’s in Berkeley.
I don’t know about any of you , but I could eat breakfast for every single meal .Yes, 365 days of the year for the rest of my life. Hands down. There is nothing more comforting than sinking your teeth into anything that brings back memories of home and family.

I can remember as a child hot home made bread coming out of the oven; thick slices were immediately cut and toasted on top of the wood stove .My grandmother would then put on a layer of butter, tasting like it just was made, and then top them off with dollops of sweet homemade jam. That is the feeling I want to have when I go out to eat breakfast. I want to bite into something that makes my day look a whole lot brighter.

“Brighter” to me is not half a grapefruit and a bunch of granola in a big bowl either, no matter how good it is for me. The only time I can remember grapefruit being served was when an article came out years ago in Good Housekeeping about how it would melt off weight. My grandmother hooked on to that idea fairly quickly and ate so much grapefruit she should have lost half her body weight. But she never did.

I have favourites here in Berkeley, but have never darkened the doors of Rick & Ann’s before. I was told if I went there to expect a very long wait. A wait so long I might want to notify my next of kin. So agreeing on a “no whining “contract, we made our way to a place I had only heard tales of, but had never experienced. Of course most of you have heard of the place and probably don’t really want to hear another review of it. But this is different. I got to sit on hallowed ground.

The hallowed ground I am talking about, dear readers, is right on the front lines in front of the people that make this food so delicious. I am talking about one of two stools smack dab in front of the cooking station. Uncomfortable yes, but I was mesmerized for the next 75 minutes, and really could not feel at any point that my butt and dangling right leg were falling asleep.

In less than two minutes we both decided we would have the Yukon Gold Plate. It was a vegetarian hash with sweet and white potatoes, sweet bell peppers, corn and apples, served with two eggs and muffin, toast or scone. The smell was just oozing into my nostrils sitting barely three feet away from the main action and my hunger, as Emeril would say, went up a notch or three. I watched the cook working away on that flat top like he was a fine tuned orchestra conductor.

Huge piles of red potato home fries lined the side of the grill looking much like a picture out of a cookbook. Seeming to have seven pairs of hands he ladled out pancake after pancake filled with blueberries and a host of other delicious things.

Fresh bacon was sizzling under a huge iron weight in the middle, yet he found room for the Northeast Flannel Hash. It is deep ruby in colour, and I questioned it until I read the menu and found out it is made of beets, sweet and white potatoes and onions. I really do not have one fond memory of any beet that has crossed my path, but I was sure willing to let these beets entertain me.


I watched the sous chef make huge fresh buttermilk waffles and immediately went into gluten shock. I asked myself how someone like me, who suffers with celiac disease, could stand watching their table neighbour bite into this glory, with a side of chicken apple sausage no less.

I swear I started to shed gluten free tears until I noticed they also had orange rice flour pancakes served with blueberries on the menu. Yes, I exclaimed in my mind. I too could sink my teeth into something that thick sweet syrup was the main condiment. Oh syrup, hear me roar!

Time has passed by now and I still have not seen the Yukon Hash darken the flat top. Pleasssssssssssse, my inner child screamed. I want my food and I want it now. Considering myself kind of an adult now after 59 years, and knowing this will not work, I go back and watch the sous chef once again with great interest. I watch him make a fruit plate with the precision of a sushi chef.

While watching him cut apple slices that almost look like feathers on the plate, I see fresh blueberry scones come out from an oven in the back. I eye the fresh fruit jam on the counter in the clear glass container and envision how that would just put a capital S on the first letter of that scone. I watch another chef poach an egg so perfectly I want to document it for posterity.

All of a sudden I see the main cook start working on my Yukon hash. Oh glory be and saint’s be praised; I will be dining on it soon. I try to calm my soul watching the sous chef make what they call Erica’s French Toast. I don’t know where the famed Erica came up with the recipe, but I watch him drench the huge slices of challah bread in orange-cardamom batter. It says to allow 15 minutes for the preparation but it seems to be winning this food horse race in speed by a mile.

I see the chef flip the hash on our plates and the “egg man” slide a couple of eggs to accompany it. I scream silently with delight as the plate is put down in front of me. I dive in and put my fork down in ecstasy. Was it worth the wait? Was it worth the agony?

My answer comes in three’s.YES! YES! YES! I have never had an egg in my life that was cooked this way. If I order an egg “over hard” it’s basically break the yolk of the egg and slap “her” down on the grill. This egg was a perfect soft boiled egg in the middle. How did they do that? Is it some magician’s trick? It must be because the whole meal was completely magic.

There is breakfast and then there is BREAKFAST. This was the latter in triple capital letters. The hash was tasty and filling. The thick slice of bacon crunched as you bit down on it. There was not one thing I could complain about, and no I am not related to anyone at Rick & Ann’s.

Would I wait again until my hair turns grayer to enjoy this breakfast feast? You betcha and that is what I told one waiting complaining woman on the way out with my eyes. She looked at me and I looked at her and she knew. Yes, she knew what the wait was all about and she immediately stopped whining. Like I said before, dining at Rick & Ann’s is a whine free zone and worth every minute of the anguish.

My stomach absolutely seconded that emotion.


Rick & Ann

Linda Seccaspina

copyright 2010

Bad writer..bad.. :0

For those who asked where it is..:

2922 Domingo Avenue
Berkeley, CA 94705-2454
(510) 649-8538

The Rats of Hogtown and Berkeley California – Zoomers


The Rats of Hogtown and Berkeley California – Zoomers.


“Two shops in Kensington Market are reopening after Toronto Public Health shut them down for severe rodent infestations. Wanda’s Pie in the Sky, a popular bakery on Augusta Ave., and New Seaway Fish Market were closed earlier this week. New Seaway on Baldwin St. had been issued a conditional pass in November after inspectors found the beginning of a rat infestation. But when inspectors went to investigate a new complaint Monday, they found a severe infestation, said Jim Chan, manager of Toronto Public Health’s food safety program.”