This is the closest restaurant to where I live. For years, my daughter and I came here every Saturday for breakfast--just the two of us. It's that kind of place.
In small towns all over America, the corner of Main and Main almost always has a little old cafe. If the town is lucky, the place will still be in business, usually serving only breakfast and lunch to the same bunch of people every day, plus a few people who happen to be driving through and who think the place is cute. If the town is really, really lucky, the food will be good. All this describes the form and function of the Abita Springs Cafe, right in the middle of the sleepy town of the same name.
The old frame building has been a restaurant for at least twenty-five years, under different owners. A former chef from Commander's Palace operated it for a decade, and set a higher standard for the food without making it inappropriately stuffy. Current owner Stephen Herbert--also a veteran in restaurant kitchenss--made few changes other than cosmetic ones. Recently, he added dinner on the weekends.
The grooved-plank paneling inside, the door that constantly needs to be closed, the tables under ceiling fans on the wrap-around patio... it's all the stuff of the ideal small-town cafe. The mayor and the sheriff and the old guys get a table as soon as the doors are unlocked and stay there for hours.
Don't hesitate to tell them exactly how you want the omelette--not just what should be in it, but how it should be cooked. You might have to wait for a table on Saturdays and Sundays, especially after services let out at the two churches within a block.