I am the third of my father’s — surprise! — four daughters which made me subject to the wishes and whims of my much older sisters, Gina and Lorrie, on a daily basis. One such preoccupation was Lorrie's cult-like obsession with soap operas.
Never much of a girly girl, I cringed at dolls and dresses and, to this day, all but lose my shit at the words “cheerleader” or “princess.” But, for some reason, when it came to the 1980’s soap opera phenomena, Santa Barbara, I was powerless.
I’m not going to bore you with the lurid details of my pubescent fantasies except to say that the romance between Cruz Costeo and Eden Capwell would prove to be the definition of true love against which all else would forever be measured.
So when it came time to decide which city we would stop in on our way to Sausalito, CA, there was no question. And while our pit stop in Santa Barbara was filled with a different kind of romance, we nonetheless enjoyed food porn from the maker of Santa Barbara’s stiffest cocktail, Joe’s Cafe.
Not easily seduced, the breakfast was sublime and ranks as one of our Top 5 favorite morning meals.
And that, my friends, is true love.