Mark and I come from a line of cafe-sitters.
His mom, Alice, liked nothing better than to sit in a diner and drink coffee for hours. Just one of the reasons I got along famously with my mother-in-law.
I remember tagging along to breakfast with my grandfather, Maurice White, to his favorite cafe in the Springhill neighborhood of Mobile, Ala. I mostly recall the waitresses — they were definitely waitresses then, not generic servers — teasing him about his new car: a Dodge Swinger. Yes, that would have been in the early ’70s.
Breakfast with my grandmother, on the other hand, was at the lunch counter at either the drug store or the Woolworth’s in the Springhill shopping center. I liked Woolworth’s best because I could shop after gulping down my toast and juice.
Once retired, my dad had Saturday breakfast at a cafe in one of the little towns in Baldwin County, Ala., while my mom set up shop at the flea market or checked on her booths at area antique malls. He was quite the talker, my dad, and he loved nothing more than shooting the breeze with the farmers and fishermen who frequented the diners. Or the short-order cook or waitress or deliveryman.
Now Mark and I set up shop most mornings at Moe’s Cafe in River Oaks or Old Neighborhood Grill on Park Place. It’s our lunch hour, see, and our break after long hours of standing on our feet.
The two places couldn’t be more different, but they also have a lot in common.
In working-class River Oaks, the waitresses (yes, they’re still all definitely waitresses) call most customers by name, or sweetie or bébé. It’s definitely a culture of “regulars,” but newcomers are welcomed just as warmly.
Over in the hospital district, Old Neighborhood Grill appears to attract a wider swath of society amongst its clientele. In the mornings, we see worker bees but also TCU professors, suits, old retired guys and what appears to be a round table of pastors.
I often say to Mark, or whoever will listen, that all restaurants should send their staff for hospitality training at Old Neighborhood Grill. It has always been absolutely perfect in its own way, and a match for their patrons.
But I truly believe that the warmth and professionalism I see every single time I visit would translate to any other restaurant in the area. I couldn’t say if it would work in New York City, but it’s just as good as any I’ve had in local restaurants with much higher menu prices.
Peter, the owner, no doubt is the model and sets the tone for the service at ONG. His perpetual smile and kind words never fail to cheer me.
And it was this kind of attention that originally brought Mark and I to his restaurant. Mom had stopped in one day while on an errand in the area and had breakfast. It was after she returned a second time that she told me about it — how the staff was so friendly, and seemed to remember her from her prior single visit.
ONG staff are servers, not waitresses, and not just because you may be waited on by a man. There’s just something professional about them, and that is not a bad thing at all.
The staff at Moe’s is also warm and professional, but it’s different — maybe a little more personal, which I know that some people might find off-putting. The tone here is set by the head waitress Miss Jackie, as she is known to many.
Mark and I have “followed” Jackie to three restaurants over the past 10 years. She first waited on us at the now-defunct 7th Street Cafe and, later, we found her in the restaurant she and her husband started over on Jacksboro Highway, also closed.
We met up again at Moe’s after we first moved in to the bakery almost five years ago. You can’t miss Jackie — the Fort Worth Weekly once described her as the perfect Fort Worth waitress, noting her big hair and friendliness as well as her professionalism.
Indeed, Miss Jackie has been waiting tables since her teens and followed in her mother’s footsteps. She was a fixture at Vivian Courtney’s on Jacksboro Highway and everywhere else she has worked.
She can joke with her regulars, train a new server, refill coffee and juggle a full section without missing an order or forgetting a side of jalapenos. She is the very definition of multitasker.
But we know Jackie’s husband, Mike, since he also breakfasts at Moe’s about the same time we do, and we’ve seen photos of Jackie’s grandchildren. And her dogs. Maybe it’s just that we’ve known her longer, but I can’t imagine the servers at Old Neighborhood Grill showing me photos of their kids. Not that I’d mind, it’s just … different.
But this isn’t a ode to Jackie, as good as she is. Tanya and Christine and the other girls — they wouldn’t take offense at being called girls, any more than the customers would complain about being called “hon” — are professional and friendly. But it’s clear they’ve been trained by Jackie, no matter how much other experience they’ve had.
Isn’t it funny? All this, and not a word about the food. That’s another post.







