Me and the boys, we’re just cruisin’ along down the road when we come up on this guy. From a distance I thought “73 Mustang!” We got up close and changed our tune. That looks like a ’72 Javelin SST, and if it were any sweeter it’d be made out of honey.

Marek wanted to take some pictures while we were driving. He took this nice shot of Ivo.

Marek wanted me to take a picture of “Cadbury” the bunny. Cadbury arrived on the scene during Easter and quickly, within 24 hours, won an award for “cherished childhood toy mom and dad are most sick of hearing about.”

For breakfast this morning we decided to go to this motorcycle shop. To get actual food, we’ll go next door to Emily’s at 7048 Park Blvd N in Pinellas Park, but the real nourishment will come from those rows of rockets on the left.

We found a seat along the wall where we had a window overlooking the bikes. Marek looked over the menu and decided, “pancakes.” For “Cadbury, dad.”

We made regular spot-checks on the motorcycle shop, just to make sure it was still there and that they hadn’t sold all the bikes yet. I’ve got a big $20 in my pocket, hoping that I can turn it into a new motorcycle!

We had a bit of four-stroke engine lubricant. This’ll keep our engine purring.

Bet you thought we got away without the eating machine. Here he is, hungry and ready for action!

Inside Emily’s you’ll find a very nice, clean, quiet atmosphere. The most distinguishing feature is the round lunch counter you see here. No one was sitting at it this morning. If it’s just Marek and I we’ll sit at the counters, but I’m already in danger of winning “Father of the Year” for my hijinks with Ivo; I’m not about to also balance him on a stool and take pictures of it.

I’m a new parent. There’s a lot of things I don’t know about kids. And here’s one of them. I’m minding my own business, looking at bikes through the window, getting Ivo’s breakfast ready, and I turn around to see Marek’s butt. I have no idea what’s going on here.

Here’s Ivo’s delicious snot meal. Mmmm, mmmm, good. Am I ever glad I’m not a baby, so I don’t have to eat this.

Something I’ve never seen at a breakfast restaurant (and believe me, I’ve seen almost every breakfast shack in the Bay Area) is baby food. It would not cost a lot of overhead for a restaurant to offer jars of Gerbers, baby oatmeal, stuff like that for babies who are just moving away from bottles but not quite advanced enough to cut their own pancakes. Probably wouldn’t sell a lot of it, but then again a jar doesn’t expire for years.

Ivo’s got to eat first, because otherwise he ends up in some other family’s booth, eating their purses and shoes. Note that “chicks dig him,” and I can assure you, they do. Though I’ve noticed that girls are slightly less attracted to two kids. One kid, when Marek was Ivo’s age, was a major aphrodisiac for ladies young and old. Two kids still attracts older ladies, but seems to count as “baggage” to the younger ones.

Here comes breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, and floppy eggs. Ivo sure wants some pancakes. Every weekend it’s like this, his gooey hand in my breakfast. Since Marek and I are splitting this one, I gave Marek the top pancake. He’ll never notice, until 20 years from now when he’s reading this. Hey Marek of the future, sorry about that, but when you have your own little Marek Juniors you’ll do the same thing.

Here’s another case of “I’m glad Mom doesn’t read these reviews.” Marek is very proud of his new ability to use a knife to knead a pancake to a pulpy mush that could then be eaten with a straw.

Marek, waving knife around: “I can DO it, dad!”

Me, ducking and handing over my wallet: “Yes you can, son, yes you can.”

No breakfast is complete without a does of HFCS.

We’ve learned our lesson well. In the Breakfast Battlefield, you always have a DMZ. Note the empty space on the table to the right: That space is exactly the length of Ivo’s left arm.

Marek and I agreed. The chow here at Emily’s is pretty good. Floppy eggs: nicely done. Bacon: a bit of crisp without being burnt. Pancakes: not shabby. Coffee: black and never ran dry.

I don’t need to tell you anything about this picture. It says it all by itself.

Ivo had some toast to go with his bowl of goo.

The bill wasn’t bad. Twelve clams for a breakfast that fed both of us.

Marek jumped up to pay.

While we were discussing the bill and the merits of the breakfast, Ivo had a top-off.

And proved that he’s intensely cute, but also, profoundly lazy.

Marek came back with change and also a pop! Now THAT is a good breakfast restaurant.

All Done!

We had some very nice chow, with reasonable bacon, floppy eggs, and nice pancakes, plus also some good black coffee that never went dry. Emily’s is a solid breakfast experience. We’re pleased to give Emily’s a Tampa Bay Breakfast four pancake rating.


I don’t think there’s any question on what we did next. We looked at motorcycles!

This was Marek’s favorite. He is also a Honda man, like his old man.

This was my favorite. Set up for drag, no kidding.

This is the same bike I used to run back before there were children. You can even find me on http://www.ironbutt.com/ with this bike.

In case you didn’t believe me.


And here’s what one of those looks like when you ride it through the back of a Volkswagen. Walked away from it, I did, but a lot of my money stayed at the bike shop that day.


Emily's Family Restaurant III on Urbanspoon

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

* Copy This Password *

* Type Or Paste Password Here *