We visited Shirley’s Soul Food at 1789 34Th St in St. Pete on 16 April 2011. Shirley’s is in a neat old rail car. The only other one we know in the Tampa Bay area is Nicko’s on North Florida. You can’t go wrong with breakfast in a rail car!

Shirley’s has a very basic menu. And the first thing they told us was that they were out of bacon. That’s not the best sign, I’ll admit.

Marek already knows what he wants! Pancakes!

Marek played shy-boy and wouldn’t say what he wanted. He had to have it coaxed and tickled out of him.

Ivo looked on. Thinking, no doubt, about time someone else gets tickled in this family. Notice the seat backs in the booths? Those are lovely. A hidden gem of Art Deco tucked away in a soul food diner.

We had a serious discussion about knives. And serrations. And cutting things. This is Marek, running his fingers along the knife edge, telling me he can use his own knife and he knows how and he won’t cut himself.

This is one clean, shiny floor! I don’t usually take pictures of floors (it’s odd enough that I take pictures of pancakes, wouldn’t you say?), but it was so shiny! And terrazzo, too.

We had to get Ivo started first, because his appetite waits for nothing. That’s Xavier looking on in the back. He would have a couple bites of his own breakfast and then come over to see what we were doing and then go back to get another couple bites. Ivo’s still in the car seat, balanced on a chair, because they didn’t have any highchairs. You can always tell when a place doesn’t really get a lot of family business.

Here comes breakfast. Marek’s mom is going to be sore that I let him use a knife, so I hope she doesn’t really read these reviews. She says she reads them, but she probably just skims through. Baby, if you’re reading this one, I wanted to make Marek stop, but … he had a KNIFE! I couldn’t get close to him, or he’d have stolen my wallet.

Ivo’s got to get his hand in.

Marek got some syrup help. I don’t think he needed help, but she was so sweet and, I think, sweet on Marek.

And so we all dug in! I had the corned beef hash since they were out of bacon. This hash was the best I’ve had in years. Dedicated readers will know that I’ve never actually ordered hash since we’ve been writing Tampa Bay Breakfasts, but still, this was delicious.

When we were done, Marek made a quick trick brick stack.

Marek agreed to pay the bill.

This is the rail-car side of Shirley’s. If it were just me and Marek we’d have sat at the counter, but Ivo isn’t ready for that kind of funnybusiness.

Marek told me he’s keeping the change for his parachute fund. Marek of the future, if you’re reading back through these and find the notes about your parachute fund, I’m going to have to admit to you a terrible family secret. Every time you kept the change and put it in your little pockets, you forgot about it, then we wash your clothes, find change in the washing machine, and throw it in the car-wash-and-parking-meter jar. So you’re not actually making any headway on the parachute fund.

Not a bad deal, two breakfasts for 11 bucks.

We did a little bit of goofin around.

And a little more goofin around.

Shirley’s has a bowl of candy!

It’s always a happy day when Marek has a pop!

We had a very nice breakfast this morning. Shirley’s was welcoming, the chow was delicious, the coffee hot and good. The price was right. Missing bacon and a high chair. We’re pleased to give Shirley’s a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four pancake rating.

We’re taking a really long ride this morning. Have to tank up. The Official Gas Station of Tampa Bay Breakfasts is the Citgo on Lois. Tell Jimmy that Andy sent ya!

We’re heading all the way to St. Pete Beach this morning. We’re that dedicated to exploring every breakfast in the Tampa Bay Area. That’s the Don CeSar in the distance.

This approach is lovely enough to show twice, for those homesick Florida ex-pats who can’t get enough. Here’s for you, New Hampshire.

Growing up, I never knew the concept of paying for parking. I’d just park my truck in the woods. But down here in Tampa Bay we seem to pay for parking a lot.

Along the way we found this beautiful Prickly Pear. A little tedious to eat, but they’re delish. Especially if you’re tromping through the scrub and just happen across one.

We’re on Pass-a-Grill this morning, in case you hadn’t noticed. We’re going to 200 Gulf Way, Pass a Grille, to try the Paradise Grill for some breakfast. They have a nice little web site at http://www.theparadisegrille.com/.

Ivo’s hungry. He grabbed the first menu and chose it. No, he didn’t choose something from the menu, he chose everything on the menu.

We’ve had some good breakfasts with nice views, but never quite like this one. We could huck hashed browns at stingrays from here. Or maybe zing pancakes at those guys out there with the metal detectors. The options are pretty much endless.

We left Ivo strapped to the car seat for a while. Me and Marek, we’re busy goofin’.

Really, really goofin’ hard! I think they almost called the bouncers on us. Not that they actually have bouncers, but I’m sure they were wishing they did.

Also, are you loving my Daliesque Simpsons shirt? My Simpsonsesque Dali shirt? Real deal on a street market in Figueres ten years ago. Seriously. Just re-found it last month. It is not, however, my most exotic t-shirt. I’ll wear that one in a future breakfast, when I get some better pectorals to put under it (it seems to have, ummm, shrunk over the years!).

We at Tampa Bay Breakfasts are no stranger to challenges. We test pancakes in all sorts of situations so you can go for breakfasts confident that some crazy guy dragged his poor kids there first and took pictures for you. Here at the Paradise Grill, there’s no highchairs, just picnic tables. A bit of a challenge for a young father by himself with wee-lads. Look how precarious Ivo looks … I’m sure glad his mother doesn’t read our web site, or I’d be in trouble!

Here’s how we handle challenges at Tampa Bay Breakfasts. If there’s no high chair, I am the high chair.

To make things even more complicated, here’s breakfast! In a tourist beach location that’s so dependent on being clean and pristine, I’m a bit surprised that they use plastic everything. But here we are.

Let’s dig in! By “us” I mean Ivo, with the hands again. Some of our readers are wondering if I just have a rubber prop hand that I slip into these pictures and then blame it on Ivo. I know who you are. For example, you could be my own father thinking that, since you gave me a rubber hand years ago. No, this is really Ivo all the time. And my rubber hand is stored away in the Christmas ornaments.

Havin’ breakfast on the water’s edge. This is Florida livin’.

Ivo never seemed to notice that he wasn’t actually in a chair. Boy has his eyes on the chow!

Marek loves these sunglasses. What color are your sunglasses, Marek? They’re rainbow, dad!

We had a wonderful time at the Paradise Grill. Until we paid the bill. $20 for breakfast is pretty steep, where ever you go, but we figured that we were paying at least a 50% premium for the view. The bacon was outstanding, the eggs pretty good, the pancakes were sort of small, but they had to be to fit on the paper plates. Home fries were a nice addition and were delish. The coffee went down pretty smooth, too. An interesting observation, the female staff were all very perky and helpful but the male staff seemed sort of sullen and distant. Not like total-freak-show-sociopath, just not super-helpful to a guy with his hands full of little kids.

We’ll give the chow at Paradise Cafe a 3.5 rating, and bump it up a notch for the location. We’re pleased to give the Paradise Cafe a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four and a half pancake rating. Don’t go when it’s raining.

After breakfast we walked next door to the little crafts market that is here every Saturday. Marek got to pet a bird.

We found a pretty necklace for Mom!

We got to pet a dog named Cheeto!

And we couldn’t waste a trip to the beach, now, could we?

This isn’t Ivo’s first time in the sand. Mom took the boys to the beach for A Whole Day last week!

We’re on the beach on Dad Time, which means we didn’t bring towels or toys or anything. So … don’t get wet, boy!

While Marek capered, me and Ivo hung back and enjoyed the morning sunshine.

On the way home, we saw this Charger for sale. You can’t tell here, but it looks like the exhaust pipes are painted red. This car looks awesome from a block away.

All this really happened.

We visited the Central Coffee Shoppe at 530 Central Ave in St. Pete on 26 February 2011. Today is TBB Fan Christine’s birthday. Happy birthday, Christine! To get there we had to get on the highway. Would you classify those as altostratus and altocumulus clouds?

Beautiful St. Pete morning. Even the Altocumulus floccus clouds look like they’re ready for pancakes.

Ivo said he’d take care of parking. Don’t be too impressed. The meter is free on the weekends. And after reading this, you’ll spend the rest of your day thinking, “öko? Lögisch!”

We’re right across the street from The Dome Grill. Marek has his suitcase, just in case he needs some cars or maybe a tape measure.

Remember how last year we were at The Dome, and Aleshea said to go across the street? Where here we are!

We walked by this snake place. It wasn’t open at 0800 on a Saturday. Bummer!

Lucky for us, this little diner next to the snake store was open. What do you think, should we pop in for maybe some pancakes?

You, our dear TBB reader, have seen us look wistfully at the stools and counters over the years. One day little Marek will be tall enough to sit there. Today is the day. Marek is big enough to sit at the counter. Not, mind you, big enough to get on or off the stool by himself, but certainly big enough to sit there.

The menu has superlatives like eggs and catfish. How can you go wrong?

While we didn’t sit with Marek (or, rather, he didn’t sit with us), we did grab the closest table we could. Marek may be a man of the world, but he’s still just a little boy.

As you can see, the Central is just a tiny little place. Do you see what’s not tiny? That’s right, baby Ivo is one big little baby. What you can’t see here is the sound of him grunting, trying to get at the food. Uhn, uhn, uhhh!

Here’s Marek having his very own breakfast by himself at the counter for the very first time. He’s not phased a bit, as if he does this every day.

Breakfast independence over there. And Ivo hasn’t taken his eye off the spoon.

Breakfast these days usually includes a bottle of formula. This is a fine breakfast, with some very respectable bacon and eggs. See the little Grabby-McGrab hand in the lower right corner, just waiting for a chance? See how there’s a DMZ perimeter?

Marek, by this point, had pretty much forgotten we were there. Ivo, by this point, is starting to look at what the folks behind us are having, hoping maybe they’ll drop something and instead of falling on the floor it will fall into his mouth.

Marek’s just one of the guys. He’ll make a fine grouchy old man who sits at the counter every morning and likes his eggs just so and always reads the newspaper. If they still have newspapers when he’s an old man.

The look on Marek’s face here is, “Daaaad, quit, I’m trying to feed the baby!”

The look on Ivo’s face is, “I’m not taking my eye off that bottle.”

Marek paid the bill. Which was more challenging than you might think in such a small place. They got pretty busy and he had to hunt someone down.

The Central is pretty near a perfect little diner. It’s 100% mom-n-pop, it’s small and cozy, the chow is good, reasonably priced, pretty fast, and the people on both sides of the counter are friendly and regular. Almost everyone who walked in was “Hi, Jim” and “Mornin’, Betty.” The folks quite gleefully attended to Marek being at the counter. Little old ladies stopped by my table to tell me what a good job I was doing (little did they know, I’m part of a world-renowned pancake SWAT team). At the end of the day (or the breakfast, in this case), we had really fine time at Central.

Nicole, thanks for inviting us!

We’re pleased to give the Central Coffee Shoppe a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four and a half pancake rating.

We were already in St. Pete, so on the way home we drove by the basin. Marek announced he needed a boat so he could go fishing and catch Nemo and Dorey and Marlin. Should I be disturbed that when my kid watches Finding Nemo he identifies with the diver who catches Nemo instead of the obvious choice of identifying with Nemo himeself?

We drove by the Vinoy. Pink hotels on sunny mornings in Florida. There’s nothing like it.

After driving around St. Pete to let our pancakes settle, we jumped across the Gandy and stopped at the Redneck Riviera. Marek ran off in the sand.

Ivo stayed sleeping in the car, a fact which will probably win me a Father of the Year award.

It’s just a Florida morning. Hey Vancouver, Stuttgart, Cambridge, New Hampsha, New York, and Michigan, it’s February. Time to go to the beach.

We studied different kinds of tracks in the sand. We found birds, dogs, and little boy tracks.

When we got home, Ivo and I went back out to vote in the mayoral election. This was Ivo’s first experience with the democratic process. I voted for the visionary underdog (who lost, natch). Ivo voted for lunch.

Just a normal day.

Tell me, do you think my car would go faster if I had a paint job like this?

We’re blasting down the highway this morning to meet a Tampa Bay Breakfasts fan who gets the award for coming from the farthest distance just to have breakfast. We don’t want to be late. I took this picture while we were still in the driveway.

Gloomy weather again today. Looks like it might snow. (Keep it warm, Vancouver, ’cause it ain’t gonna snow here!)

Marek picked out the music. That’s right, Terrorfakt. Terrorfakt sounds a bit like two wet cats in a burlap sack. If the cats were made out of angry robots and had chainsaws. And the burlap sack was actually made from broken hacksaw blades. Marek seems to like it. I know I do.

I used to work in that building sometimes. I was this close to having a little tenth-floor office with a view of the bay, back in aught-six. Swing and a miss, as the baseball kids say.

We visited Skyway Jacks on 6 February 2011. This was our 68th visit to Skyway Jacks. Really just our 6th or 8th, but we wish it were 68. We like this place that much. Last time we were here was 7 November 2009. We awarded them the most prestigious, and in fact only specific Breakfast Award a bay-area restaurant can get, the 2009 Tampa Bay Breakfast of the Year.

Our arrival.

We look like movie stars.

Marek looks like a movie star. Marek looks like Justin Bieber.

Marek looks like I work for him.

I look like an analogue of Billy Ray Cyrus living off of his kid’s fame. But at least I have a leather Fonzi jacket. Marek does not.

Marek had a bizarre conversation with Humpty Dumpty. I was slow on the camera trigger and didn’t get a good shot, but one has to wonder what Humpty ever did to Marek. Humpty appears to be about 800 pounds of solid concrete.

It started raining. I hid under the giant chicken. Marek found this to be an hilarious event.

This is Marek looking at me taking a picture of him out in the rain while I’m dry under the giant chicken.

Marek stopped for a pack of smokes. Boy needs his Lucky Strikes.

After that picture above, I know what you’re thinking.

Exactly what you’re thinking.

You’ve got a scowl on your face. A disapproving scowl.

You’re thinking, Andy, while your four year is old buying cigarettes, it sure would be nice if you introduced your special long-distance Tampa Bay Breakfasts Guest Reviewers.

Sorry about that. Here’s our friends Phil and Atticus, all the way from Virginia just to have breakfast with us. (Phil’s the big one. He’s wearing shorts to taunt his friends back home.)

And, of course, this is Marek. And his old man, who is part of a Marek-fueled accelerated aging experiment where each minute ages him by an hour. I’m actually only 22 years old.

Atticus had to take a call from his broker. Marek’s not the only one who takes calls at breakfast. And he’s not the only pre-schooler with a broker.

While Phil and Atticus are sorting out how many shares of oatmeal Atticus is going to buy, me and Marek are goofin on four-year-old humor. Lucky for me, I was four once and never really lost my touch at burping.

The menu hasn’t changed. Still has our old favorites, scrapple for dad, scrambled eggs and pig brains for Marek. Somehow, our orders always end up being pancakes, and that’s probably for the best.

Marek took a long time to ponder the menu. Plus, he’s been learning to say “hypotenuse” so he’s got plenty going on up in that little pumpkin of his.

Notice how the guy in black, two tables over, has the exact same pose as Marek?

Atticus is a natural at this professional breakfast thing. Sitting a table in a loud, busy room, interacting with perfect strangers. Never missed a beat. Phil, too. A natural. We deputized them both as official representatives of breakfast. We just need to get badges made. Phil, this is worth putting on your resume.

We’ve had a breakfast or two here and there over the last few years. We can tell you about times when simple pancakes take 30 minutes in restaurants where there’s no other customers but us. And we can tell you about a slammed, line out the door place like Skyway Jacks where a whole lotta love, breakfast style, shows up in about 12 minutes. Barely time to roll cars back and forth with Atticus.

The first step: YOINK!

Then comes the high-fructose corn syrup, which will not win me “dad of the year” from the World Health Organization.

(Are you now wondering if WHO has a “dad of the year” award? Did you just google for it? Were you disappointed to find that they do not?)

Atticus had the oatmeal. It appeared to be deee-lish!

Marek says to Phil, out of the blue, “opossums are nocturnal.” I got it right here on camera.

Atticus got a bit of oatmeal approximately all over himself. Our very nice waitress gave him a scrubbing-down.

Can’t stay hyper without your smokes, your HFCS sugar, and your caffeine. I know how to raise a boy right.

The dedicated TBB reader is wondering, where’s the cars? Well, for some reason, they’re hidden behind the syrup.

The bill came. Twennyfive bigguns for breakfast for four. That’s not bad at all, especially considering that these are the best blueberry pancakes in the entire Tampa Bay sprawl.

Marek jumped into action. He is the Superhero of Breakfast!

If you look very closely, you’ll see Marek’s head over by the register. We saw that there was an extended conversation between Marek and the guy on the stool. No idea what they talked about, and that’s something I’ll never get to know.

I got almost all the change back. Marek held on to two quarters. He’s saving for a parachute. Seriously. He doesn’t know to take the quarters OUT of his pockets and put them in a jar or something, so I just get them back when we do laundry, but he’s pretty consistent in his new deal of taxing the change and saving it for a parachute.

And that’s how we wrap up one of the best breakfasts in Tampa Bay. Stay classy, Skyway Jacks!

As usual, Skyway Jacks delivers on all the things we love. Excellent pancakes, bacon, eggs, coffee, everything. Served quickly and for not much money. It’s loud, bustly, crowded, and full of crazy pigs and giant chickens and a 70’s cigarette machine. And it had our friends Phil and Atticus. There are places that try to be something like Skyway Jacks, and Skyway Jacks has its detractors who have good points to make, but I’ll say that what makes it work here is that Skyway Jacks ain’t tryin’ to be kooky-crazy, it just is what it is — and you, the visitor, are left to form your own opinions.

We’re pleased to re-confirm Skyway Jacks’ status as a Tampa Bay Breakfasts five pancake winner, and our first five pancake breakfast of 2011.

After breakfast, Marek and I offered to show Phil and Atticus around. “Put your kid in my car, Phil, and I’ll drive.” I’m sure at this particular moment Phil felt like he’d joined the clowns-in-a-tiny-car circus act.

But when we all got buckled in, it fit like a glove. We’ve got Atticus.

And we’ve got Marek.

We drove all over downtown St. Pete, pointing out all the breakfasts we’d had over the years. It’s usually at that point on the tour that I turn quietly and seriously to the passenger and point out that I am not a nutcase.

We cruised over the Skyway bridge and back. It’s a lovely, dramatic drive, especially in a car the size of a shoebox like mine is.

A lovely, dramatic, and sleepy ride.

When we got home, Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom handed me a sack of taters to carry around. Ivo had stayed home this morning for some quality mom-time.

And that’s the end of a great Tampa Bay Breakfast morning! Thanks, Phil and Atticus, for joining us!

We’re going to breakfast across the bridge into St. Pete. It’s a gloomy day today. Maybe it will snow.

(Canadian, European, and Northern U.S. TBB fans please note: It ain’t gonna snow.)

We drove by Haslam’s. My mother used to take me here when I was not much older than Marek.

We’ve got Ivo working the navigation position. Which is why we’re near Haslam’s and no where near our destination. Turns out he can’t read. How did he get that 1600 on the SAT?

We drove by this liquor store. Despite the fact that it looks supremely unwholesome, in an open-at-0830 sort of way, you have to pay special note to the globe on the sign out front. This place was probably pretty classy 50 years ago, if the relative expense of that sign is any indicator.

We’ve got Marek on special teams. He’s pretty much the helicopter door gunner of our breakfast crew. And you can’t tell, but I’m wearing a Green Eggs and Ham shirt. I would eat them in the rain, I would eat them on a train.

We visited the Kopper Kitchen at 5562 Central Ave in St. Pete on 22 January 2011.

Me, Marek and Ivo grabbed a table and made sure the coffee started flowing early.

Today’s a special breakfast. Our guest reviewer is none other than Aleshea, the Official Poet of Breakfast. This was her first meeting with Ivo. Shameless plug early so we don’t forget: Go see her next performance. Go. She’s in Aristophanes’ The Frogs at freeFall theater in St. Pete. There’s sure to be popcorn and beer.

Ivo was torn between playing with Aleshea and looking at that guy’s mustache. Heck, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. By the time he got up we were all just staring, spellbound.

Marek and Aleshea had coffee. Actually it was tea for Aleshea, which brought up memories of The Netherlands for her. If you want to know the whole story, you’ll have to go to her show and ask her.

We had breakfast. As you can see, Aleshea has good taste … she likes pancakes, too! And bacon and eggs.

Marek never had eggs a day in his life. Never once. And all of a sudden, he’s all about Aleshea, can I have some of your eggs please? That smile on her face is basically, “I have never been asked by some kid if he could eat some of my breakfast so I’m going to smile and see where this goes.”

And then he came back for more. Aleshea, you’ve got got patience like a saint. Let this be a warning to prospective guest reviewers. Being along on a Tampa Bay Breakfast is not all fun and games. Well, it IS fun and games, but one of those games is getting your breakfast hijacked.

Marek did, however, dance for his breakfast. This was an interpretive dance, recalling country harvests, full moons, and the migration of songbirds.

You think I’m kidding. He danced so much that Aleshea had to record him so she could use his routine in her next show.

The bacon was pretty good. Crispy, not quite overdone. There was none left.

I set down the camera to dig into my own pancakes and Marek picked it up. He took this picture by himself. Seriously.

And he took this picture. I’m almost ready to just hand him the camera so I can enjoy breakfast every weekend.

Little Marek even helped feed Ivo. As you can see here, Marek enjoys shoving the baby food all the way into Ivo’s stomach.

It’s all about Marek today. He showed us how he flips a coin to decide whether to be a good boy or a bad boy each day. Turns out his erratic behavior actually IS random, by design. And where did he get a quarter, anyway?

The bill wasn’t bad. About 17 clams for three breakfasts.

Marek volunteered to pay the bill.

I don’t think the Kopper Kitchen gets many kids. First clue was that I had to ask for a high chair for Ivo, and then many nice women came by and gave him goo-goo-eyes. That happens to us all the time, but it was out of control here, like Ivo was a movie star. At least six people while we were there engaged us about Ivo or Ivo and Marek. That’s three times what we usually get.

So Marek’s off paying the bill. The second clue that they don’t get many kids here was that the staff all gave me (and Marek, I think) a bit of stink-eye for Marek running around with a fist full of dollars. That happens from time to time, but they seemed to have less humor than most for our hijinks. Marek asked them if they had any pops and was told sternly that they did not. He was sad.

We wrapped up breakfast, collected the boys, all our cars, except the one that fell behind the booth and so became our gift to the Kopper Kitchen, and we went on our way. Aleshea had to get to rehearsal and we had to get to Tae Kwon Do.

We had a pretty good breakfast at the Kopper Kitchen. The food was fine, especially the buttermilk pancakes that I barely had time to talk about, what with all of Marek’s tomfoolery. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, all hit the marks. The coffee was OK except for the one Tragic Flaw that diner coffee can have. Much like the flaws one finds in the heroes in the plays of the ancient Greeks, even the best coffee that strives to succeed against the odds, even the best coffee will ultimately fail when the cup is empty. The customers were very friendly but the staff didn’t seem too thrilled that we were there. At least they didn’t throw us out.

While the Kopper Kitchen did have a singular shining star in that Aleshea was at the table, she already has a permanent five-pancake rating from us. We give the Kopper Kitchen a Tampa Bay Breakfasts three and a half pancake rating.

After breakfast we left The Official Poet of Breakfast and we went to watch a Tae Kwon Do tournament.

Why would we go to a tournament? Because our dear friend Master Thibado was running the show. You may remember Master Thibado from such events as our visit to The Ranch House back in 2009. I also remember Master Thibado from all the times he punched and kicked me 20 years ago. (Jeez, Pete, has it really been twenty years?) This was Master Thibado’s first meeting with Ivo, and Marek is Very Keen to do some Tae Kwon Do (with prompting, and maybe cookies, he can already count to ten in Korean). If you also are keen to do Tae Kwon Do and want to get punched and kicked like I did back then, go here: http://www.thibadotkd.com/, and tell ’em Andy, Ivo, and Marek sent you!

After Tae Kwon Do we went home and had lunch and took naps. Then we went to the ice skating school in Oldsmar where they had a free open house and “we’re going to hook your kid on this and make you give us money to stop your kid from crying” seminar. Really, that’s an industry standard tool; just Google WGTHYKOT/MYGUMTSYKFC marketing technique. It turns out Marek is a natural. And, predictably, skating is all he’s babbled about ever since.

Pancakes, poets, punching, and possible skating lessons. Just a normal day for Marek, Ivo, and Andy (who are never Missing In Action, by the way!)

We visited the Country Harvest restaurant at 1285 S Missouri Ave in Clearwater on 2 January 2011. This was our first visit to the Country Harvest and our first breakfast of the new year. Country Harvest is a recommendation from TBB fan and Country Skillet owner Steve. Steve gives Country Harvest a top rating because it’s run by his brother Pat (he also pointed us to the Tin Can Cafe, run by his brother Jim — a family that understands the importance of breakfast!).

On our way out the door we ran into this ugly bug! It’s actually a female Acanthocephala femorata, but that didn’t stop us from talking for an hour about how the ugly bug was going to eat bad daddies, and also how I’m a bad daddy so I’d best watch out for the ugly bug.

We got to drive down MLK and past the Buc’s big HQ. That’s one big pirate flag!

I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to our 2011 Tampa Bay Buccaneers Breakfasts lineup. On my right flank is Ivo on special teams, and on my left flank is Marek on offense. Not shown here is our Acanthocephala femorata, who is not actually on the team and has probably been eaten by a bird by now.

It’s a rainy day to drive across the bay. Marek reported seeing dragons. Then he said it was only clouds. I sort of liked it better when it was dragons.

We drove by Clearwater High School. My mother is a CHS graduate. She still remembers the school fight song.

Finally, after what seems like hours and hours (it’s just 40 minutes, but in little-kid-time, that’s like a decade), we get to Country Harvest. What a cheerful yeller building. It’s in a converted Bob Evans, but Country Harvest looks like the real deal. Marek is holding a sack of crazy. You’ll see what it is when we get inside.

Do you like my shirt? Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom got it for me for Christmas, so I could impress my friends. My peer group is a 3.5 year old. He was impressed.

Good menu, but no blueberry pancakes. That’s Wingo and Doc Hudson, by the way.

Sign of a really good place. As soon as you sit down they bring you muffins. Marek said in a nice, loud shout, “Muffins!” and proceeded to eat muffins and thus not eat his pancake later. They were good muffins, too! That’s Wingo, DJ, and Mac, by the way.

Ivo’s wearing his Snoopy shirt Evi and Wolfgang sent him for Christmas. Thanks, Wolfgang! It fits perfectly!

We had coffee, as is the tradition in our clan.

No real insight into the Country Harvest or breakfasts in general in this picture, I just like how Ivo’s such a giggly baby. Even when he’s sans-madre and subjected to all the slam and kaboom that is the dad-schedule.

Marek enjoyed his coffee. It was like having a quart of oil at Flo’s V-8 Cafe. That’s Doc, Wingo, Mac, Lightning, and DJ, by the way.

Having a baby makes this breakfast thing a little bit more logistically challenging. I have to bring baby food, for example. I used to have to do that with Marek, too, but that was before Tampa Bay Breakfasts became a world-leader in the cutting edge, high-profile, intensely stressful world of breakfast journalism. That’s Doc, Mac, Luigi, Snotrod, Lizzie, Lightning, my personal fav Guido, Wingo, and DJ, by the way.

Ivo’s getting peas today, but he hasn’t figured that out yet because he can’t read.

He does not like peas.

Marek is STILL eating muffins. Where’s the parents? Who just lets their kid run the show like this?

Inside Country Harvest is warm and spacious. And full of cops. When it comes to breakfast, we consider that to be a good sign.

Lightning McQueen is in serious trouble! Jelly collapse!

Lucky for Lightning, and for the rest of us, breakfast came. I stepped out of my usual bounds and got the Greek omelet, which I can report upon as being delicious. And also greasy and filling. The home fries were excellent, having that taste like they had been leftovers of leftovers and then mixed with onions (that sounds like I mean they were bad, but if you’ve ever made home fries you know, you don’t make good home fries with “fresh ingredients”). Ivo, as you can tell, was really loving the peas.

Marek got the pancake and bacon. The bacon disappeared promptly into the bacon black hole that is Marek’s jowls. He didn’t give the pancake much love, but I think that’s because he was already full of muffins. What kind of parent lets their kid fill up on muffins before breakfast?

Also, this was all served with a bottle of Cholula Sauce. I remember some military meals served long ago, where some of us had bottles of Cholula and would proceed to talk about how she was our wife, our mother, our secret lover. Basically, Cholula makes all food good.

Ivo didn’t like the peas, but he did enjoy his first ever wheat toast.

Ivo gets a top-off before we wrap up. Blended up pancake. Extra butter.

The bill weighed in at just under $14 clams for two whole breakfasts. That’s not the cheapest morning chow we know, but it’s not terrible either.

Marek jumped on in to pay the bill. He’s getting to be such a big boy, isn’t he?

And yet, he’s not so big a boy that he doesn’t bring back the change. It’s the best of all worlds!

Before we leave, Marek wants me to let you know that this is Snotrod.

Me and Marek (and also Ivo, who still doesn’t like peas) had quite a nice time. Though Marek did say he didn’t get a pop when he paid the bill. Not every place has pops, but try telling that to him!

Our first breakfast of 2011 was a success. The chow was delish, as Rachel Ray would say, the price was fine. The restaurant was really nice and the staff seemed to be friendly and professional. Except one waitress, who wasn’t ours, gave me some serious stink-eye when I sent Marek off to pay the bill. She obviously didn’t know that Marek’s a Proven Pancake Pro and has paid many a tab at mom-pop-pancake-shops. But still, it was a stink-eye, and we don’t usually get a lot of those. This is a great breakfast, well worth a visit, or two or three! We’re pleased to give the Country Harvest a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four pancake rating.

On the way home, we stopped at P.J.’s car lot. Daddy needs a new breakfast mobile, and I’m thinking this cherry ’69 Lincoln would really scratch that itch, momma! (Though in a pinch, I’d be OK with that wicked ’71 Mach 1 in front of her.)

Uh-oh! Time to get home to mom and tell her all about our busy breakfast morning!

It’s a beautiful day in the Tampa Bay Area. If you’re reading this from San Francisco, Stuttgart, or perhaps even Vancouver, I’m willing to bet your day isn’t as nice as ours.

Today we visited DeMilli’s Family Restaurant at 6501 Park Boulevard. It’s Halloween, 31 October 2010, and everyone was dressed like hippies. We were wearing our favorite costumes, the disguise of Tampa’s famous breakfast reviewers! The DeMill’s sign has a couple of “N” characters dressing up as “Z”. That’s pretty groovy.

Inside is warm and cozy. And apparently hippies wore a lot of bandannas. I, personally, can attest to the number of bandannas at metal festivals, but I really can’t account for the authenticity of these costumes. Surely, though, they were all really cute.

We went for the coffee right away. It’s a long drive to DeMilli’s and we needed the boost. Good java here. Got us going like a jumpstart on a cold battery! You may have noticed, dear TBB fan, that we seem to “cheers” a lot. I want to assure you that no animals are harmed in the filming of these events. And also, this is pretty much Marek’s idea to cheers all the time.

Today is a super-special breakfast. Cousin Donnie sent Marek and Ivo presents. As everyone knows, Cousin Donnie is the guy who recently jumped on his bike with a t-shirt and gas money and rode from upstate New York to Tampa and back in a weekend. He’s hard-core. We’re excited about the presents!

I pulled my trusty spider knife to open them up.

I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but I think it’s a car, Marek.

Lousy picture of a great car! Thanks, cousin Donnie! Marek proceeded to tell me, and I am not making this up, how “Cousin Donnie is my friend.” What Marek doesn’t realize is that Donnie is actually his first cousin once removed. That’s the kind of scientific precision we bring to every Tampa Bay Breakfast.

Marek also helped Ivo open his. That was pretty useful, as Ivo doesn’t have the fine motor skills to do much more than poop.

We made sure Ivo got to hold his, but Marek wasted no time in suggesting that maybe it might be a good idea if he help Ivo out by playing with Ivo’s car, too.

He says to Ivo, “Hey little brother, can I play with your car? Just don’t say anything if it’s OK.” Ivo didn’t say anything, so it must have been OK. We all say Thank you, Cousin Donnie!

We did a quick clearing of the race track to make room for some really nice chow. Notice the bacon heist in progress. There was a “yoink!” sound.

Every few months Marek gets on a pepper kick. Syrup and pepper on his pancakes. Is it my fatherly duty to correct this deviant behavior? Or, as dad, should I just let him do it and laugh when it tastes icky? Which do you think I do?

Lookit the size of these hotcakes!

We both liked them and dug right in. Ivo didn’t have any for some reason.

The bill came and we weren’t disappointed at all. Heck, this one’s coming out of Ivo’s allowance!

Marek says, “Dad, can I have Ivo’s allowance so I can pay the bill?” I wonder how he knew I was going to write that!

While Marek was off performing high-stakes financial transactions, Ivo and I hung tight and made sure that my hand got chewed on enough.

Marek and this nice lady talked for a little bit. Best as I could get out of it, she was explaining “the 60s” to him.

This is Marek’s lucky red hat. He doesn’t realize it’s lucky.

Marek thought this was pretty funny. From the hippie-giggles in the room, I gather so did everyone else.

After all this, we also got a little bit crazy. Marek insists that Ernest Hemmingway did this all the time while he was writing Farewell to Arms.

We walked out of DeMilli’s for not much money but with really full bellies from really good chow and we were served by really nice hippies. Really. Please note that when you go there probably won’t be hippies, but if the chow’s the same for you as for us you won’t be disappointed. We’re pleased to give DeMilli’s Family Restaurant a Tampa Bay Breakfasts
four and a half pancake rating.

We’re headed back across the bay, to give some more love to Safety Harbor. It’s a lovely morning for a drive. I like to take sunny-day pictures for the benefit of our good friends and fans who don’t have the pleasure of living in the Tampa Bay Breakfasts Official Territory.

The last good music we played while heading out to an official Tampa Bay Breakfast was Lamb of God. Marek makes the cutest little horn hands. In keeping with that tradition, we jammed this heavy-hitter disk into mom’s OEM stock CD player and turned the volume up LOUD. We thrashed all the way across the Courtney Campbell!

We visited the Paradise Restaurant at 443 Main St in Safety Harbor on 24 October 2010. This was our first visit to Paradise, and it was good.

Nice place inside. Roomy. Friendly. Exactly the kind of diner where you’d find good people, smiling babies, and Albanian omelets.

You think we’re kidding, don’t you? Well, you should know better. Albanian omelets on the menu. That got our attention.

We’ve decided that Albania is alright by us. Countries that elect academics as president really have a good respect for the sciences. Marek and I, we have a good respect for the sciences. (Marek asks, “dad, why is it that people in America trust scientists to make all the pills they take and engineered food they eat and cars they drive, and then say that it’s a socialist plot when scientists discuss global warming?” That’s God’s own private mystery, son.) We’d vote for Bamir Topi any day! But we’re here for pancakes, not omelets, so Albanian science discussions will have to wait. Also, with a smiling baby like this, it’s easy to just go with the flow.

We had to have the coffee. It was just the way we like it, which means it came on a conveyor belt straight from the oil sump of a Mack Truck to our mugs. Here’s Marek getting a morning dose.

Marek decided he was going to do something new today and have pancakes and bacon. You know how he is, all adventurous. “Dad,” he says, “I don’t want to have the Same Old Albanian Omelet. Can I have a pancake?” Sure thing, kid. For your reading pleasure, dear TBB fan, please enjoy the big ole bump on Marek’s forehead. That’s from Marek having a big ole pumpkin head and bumping into things that were actually on the other side of a room and not bothering him at all.

Me and Ivo, we struck out on the road less traveled on, and it made all the difference. Blueberry pancakes, and they were good!

Also, this pose you see us in got several comments from passers-by. I have my leg balanced on the handle of the carseat and Ivo balanced on my leg while I’m feeding him with one hand and myself with the other. Little old ladies stopped to stare. I’d also like to point out that while doing that, I also took this picture myself. Marek’s completely useless at taking good pictures.

Pepper on the pancakes. Who am I to complain, I don’t have to eat that. Also, Marek says that his hero Albert Camus did this too. Stranger.

Our man Marek got sleepy in the middle of this massive breakfast. It’s a lot of food, and when it’s so tasty it’s hard not to give in to horizontality.

We fixed that up with a rousing rendition of Hymni i Flamurit. And also more coffee.

The bill came. The price was pretty good for two real breakfasts.

Marek took charge on the cash. You’ll notice there’s little challenge in this, as the register is right behind him. Slacker child.

He paid the bill and made some friends, as he tends to do.

And then Marek got hugs and pops, too. This was like going to grandma and grandpa’s house, but only where Marek had to give them money!

Marek thought he’d had enough of all that lovey-dovey stuff, but noooooooo, Dad had to get a kiss, too. “Dad,” Marek says, “my future girlfriends are going to read this and laugh at me!” Too bad, kid!

We had a really nice time at the Paradise Restaurant. The people were double-friendly, the chow was well-served, delicious, and an easy price to pay. Even the coffee was like drinking a Mobius Loop of motor oil. This is a Quality Breakfast. We’re pleased to grant the Paradise Restaurant a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four and a half pancake rating.

Here’s a little known fact about Marek. If you go up to him and say, “I took her by the hand and my heart was thumpin'” then he will goofy grin and say, “hey man, you crazy or something?” Seriously, he does. Try it.

Kids these days, they say the cutest things.

We got in the pancake mobile, which is actually a 1967 VW bus with a paint job that makes it look like a 7th-generation Toyota Celica. That’s a good paint job.

“Take a picture of my sticker, dad, take a picture!” So I took a picture of his sticker. What would you do? You’d probably take a picture of his sticker, too.

We visited the Fireplace Restaurant at 12580 Seminole Boulevard in Largo on 1 August 2010. The Fireplace was a recommendation from TBB Fan Melanie.

Inside was very welcoming. We got a string of hellos from everyone we met. Along the way we heard folks being greeted as “sweetie” and “you want the usual?” Our most excellent readers will recognize, as surely as Blue Oyster Cult is followed by Bob Dylan on the iPOD, that it’s a Good Sign when folks get called sweetie and get offered the usual.

Also, I don’t have an iPOD and neither does Marek, I just wanted to plug Blue Oyster Cult and also to suggest that we can all use more cowbell.

We had coffee. It hit the spot. The spot is, obviously, that bold bitter hole in the stomach that preens without hot battery acid, and aches with it. That spot that cries for good, hot diner coffee. This hit the spot. It also hit Marek’s spot.

We didn’t play cars this morning. I know, that must sound terrible, like if I had said that the family fish died (they did) or that Marek’s mother was pregnant with twins (she’s not, thank goodness). But we played trains instead.

This morning’s table became a busy bee hive of railway activity. Much like the Island of Sodor, which, if you’ve ever paid any serious attention at all (ehem, New York Times Editorial Page, ehem), seems to have a truly vast number of tank engines for a land mass that’s apparently no larger than Davis Island.

This morning we had Sir Handel in charge. I personally find the concept of these anthropomorphic locomotives with early-childhood mentalities being used for hard labor to be pretty chilling. And they’re rather freaky to look at, too.

Thank goodness breakfast came before I got all caught up in “social commentary.” Jeez, do I ever shut up?

Pancakes!

I have to give a shout-out to my groovy T, a thoughtful present from former TBB Guest Reviewer Arthur. Arthur knows that I have taken a few photographs of pies I have eaten.

I feel the need to mention at this point that I am not a nutcase.

These were some good pancakes! I thought the bacon was average, but that suited Marek just fine as he ate mine and his. The eggs were pretty good. Like, I wouldn’t drive a country mile for them but I also would not yell at the hens who laid the eggs either. Maybe I’d drive a metric mile.

Most importantly, Marek seemed happy.

When the time came for the bill, we were pleased. We’ve been shelling out 11, 12 samoles for breakfast every week. This time all that chow rolled in at around eight bucks. We gathered a byte of Washingtons and got ready for Marek’s big job.

“A byte of Washingtons.” Gawd, I slay me sometimes.

Marek jumped to the task. He said, looky here, long chops. I’ve quoted Bob Dylan for you, let you go on about child labor issues and the symbolism of the Island of Sodor, and I’ve put up with your silly jokes (“Byte of Washingtons,” really? no one is going to laugh at that, not even TBB Fan Dave the Sly Red Fox), now just make with the cash, old man.

Dear reader, did you just think that Marek was all about getting the job done and paying the bill? That’s why you’re the sucker and I’m the dad, because I knew better. He just wanted to crawl up in this girl’s arms and get carried around.

He finally did actually pay and even brought some change back. (Not pictured here, Sir Handel being held for ransom. What, you thought he brought back the change every week out of the goodness of his heart?)

We wrapped it up and headed out. This was a very nice breakfast. Locals. Friendly staff. Good chow. The Fireplace Restaurant is definitely worth a visit. Marek agreed.

We’re pleased to give the Fireplace Restaurant a Tampa Bay Breakfasts Four-Pancake Rating.

We got on the road and headed straight to the park. This is a park that I remember my parents taking me to when I was about Marek’s age.

We played all over the place, threw a ball, played hide-and-seek, got on the swing, watched the jet skis on the lake, and went down a big slide together. The only good picture we took was of this completely rockin’ dino guy.

Good morning chow. Good times at the park. That, little Marek, is a good day.

We visited the Tin Can Cafe at 307 South Myrtle Avenue on 24 July 2010. This was our first visit to the Tin Can. The Tin Can Cafe was a recommendation from TBB fan Steve T, the proprietor of The Country Skillet and brother of the guy behind the wheel at the Tin Can. It’s all in the family!

As you might have guessed, there were more than just me and Marek at this table. We had cars! And check out The Marek’s cool Holland t-shirt. Attentive readers will notice that one of us did a lot of shopping at an airport recently.

And we were joined by our favorite Guest Reviewer, Mom. Mom, thanks for being part of this morning’s pancake posture. Pure panache!

An un-heard and un-seen presence was with us this morning. Could it have been the spirit of Andrew Jackson, seventh president of the United States? Could it have been a car from the future that I may one day own? No! It’s a NEW BABY, almost here! Just a few weeks!

Marek and I are going to have to get new business cards.

Favorite Guest Reviewer Mom had the hot chocolate. We enjoyed that we’re six months early for Christmas! It’s 100 degrees out there, and she’s got whipped cream!

And the Winter theme continued with my Frosty the Snowman. Not complaining, by any means. I came perilously close to wearing a Peanuts Christmas t-shirt this morning. Then I said, naw, I’m not going to be the ONLY Christmas-themed thing today. I should have listened to my t-shirt stack.

Here’s a great menu. Covers all the bases. Has a fair amount of variety. Prices seem reasonable. No complaints on this dance card.

We ordered pancakes, a fact that may shock any but the most premonitious of readers. That’s not actually a word, by the way, so far as I can tell using the vast power of Google’s dictionary. But as a member of the prestigious and untouchable International Guild of Breakfast Writers (specifically from the chapter of Bay Area Regional Food Epicurean Reporter Syndicate), I claim the right to make stuff up. Whilst we waited, we toasted the grandness of our breakfast endeavors.

Then, we played cars. Marek has a thing these days for Mazda rotary engines. Nothing beats 8 big-block cylinders, tho Mazda does have something going on with those fun little power plants.

So we’re talking about naturally aspirated vs. forced induction. It’s a heated debate. Mom’s all for the NOS. Marek’s about turbos. I’m sort of a fan of both, but I can appreciate a good old fashioned four-barrel Holley, too. I had a V6 one time with the carb sitting out on the bench. I turned the key to bump the engine a notch so I could line up the timing, or something like that, and the engine started. I could clearly see the carburetor sitting on the bench from the cab, yet the engine was running. Ford. 1986 or thereabouts. I’ll tell you the secret on how it was running, but it’ll cost you ….

Breakfast!

Marek, he likes him some syrup on the bacon. And the pancakes, too.

Mom, she likes the French toast. She got the bacon and eggs special for us, too, so we could all share. That’s good bacon, and good eggs too!

Marek and I had the pancakes, natch. Mine with blueberry and his without. He’s a purist like that. We found the bacon to be very fresh and tasty, and the pancakes were quite nice. Quite nice, indeed.

This breakfast is really good, but it’s never so good that there’s not time for un beso! Marek advises me that I’ll need to enjoy these moments now, because there’s going to come a time, sooner than later, when he’ll not want anything to do with me. So I’m enjoying it now, just like the man said.

We wrapped up a fine bit of morning chow with the bill. 17 bucks for three. Not great, but not bad. We’d call that an average price.

Marek paid the bill. He’s the moneybags these days. This picture has nothing to do with hotpants.

Marek made hisself at home behind the counter. Paid the bill, collected change, and even told a few jokes along the way. He thinks he’s the Bob Hope of the Breakfast Circuit. I swear, he’s signing autographs when I ‘m not looking.

Really good pancakes. Nice bacon. Reasonable eggs. Hot, brimstone coffee. French toast passed the Mom test, too. Inside was small, cozy, and full of regulars and right friendly folks. We felt right at home from the moment we got out of the car to the time we walked out the door.

From start to finish we had a really nice time at The Tin Can Cafe. The chow was very nice, the price was OK, but the people, especially the clientele, were just so nice we couldn’t help but come away with smiles. Inside, which we didn’t capture in photographs for some reason, was decorated with all manner of cookie tins and other tin cans, which was interesting and unique. The Tin Can Cafe hits all the right notes for a great little mom-n-pop pancake shop. We’re pleased to give award the Tin Can Cafe with a Tampa Bay Breakfasts four and a half pancake rating.