Time for Hot Suppa
Hot Suppa serves breakfast and lunch--but don’t try yodeling for supper because it’s not on the menu. I read about the forthcoming establishment some months ago, in one of those so-called alternative papers like The Forecaster or the Phoenix, which often have newsy items far more interesting than other daily news formats.
It’s located along the ass end of Congress Street, known more for its stretch of 7-Elevens, convenience stores, the grittiest Rite Aid in Cumberland County and other down-market haunts.
Though with gentrification zooming up Congress Street from downtown to who knows where else, Hot Suppa might have to beef up its act for the future.
Hot Suppa has replaced the Friendship Café, a popular breakfast joint for avenue walk-ins. I’d never been, not being one for big breakfasts anyway. I noticed the Hot Suppa sign, however, for the first time a few days ago and made a mental note to stop in.
The exterior casts an unwelcoming presence. For one, the windows are black, making it look abandoned rather than open for business.
But what I had read about it was that the chef/owner, who had a stint at Dogfish, was endeavoring to create one of those ever-popular down-home crowd-pleaser food joints that conjure up unrelenting plates of comfort food.
Comfort food means to me simple fare, thick with taste and texture, lots of high flavors and gooey sauces. Meat loaf is the ultimate example, if it’s made well. Next come roast beef and baked potatoes, smothered pork chops with candied yams, beef or lamb stew, fried chicken, Cole slaw, dumplings and sycophantic biscuits and rolls.
So I dropped into Hot Suppa for lunch today. There was a big flag outside saying Open and I was anxious to see for myself.
It was, as I expected, high on dive-décor. It’s really a coffee shop with the promise of home cooking and a whisk broom in the corner.
There were some blackboard specials like fried chicken and “sides,” black-bean soup with ham or creamy tomato soup.
Every table or booth was taken except the one that I was able to get. One table held a trio of geezers, but most others were young, looking as though they’d just gotten out of bed-- perhaps better off to have stayed crumpled at home but hunger prevailed instead. Lots of brightly colored dyed hair, nose rings, tattoos and other fashion faux pas as derisory as bare feet in boots triumphed as the dress code. I was thankful that I hadn’t shaved, which barely helped me to fit in quietly.
The wait staff could have doubled as pre-schoolers. Mine was an affable lad who brought me a can of Coke and a glass of ice. I was about ready to open it myself and pour, but he endeavored, putting so much pressure on the thin tin can that it left a permanent large dent that was as off putting as rectilinear vastness.
Besides the specials there’s a full breakfast menu that seems available all day. For lunch there are things like burgers, enticing sandwiches, hearty salads, the ubiquitous mac and cheese and sides like hand cut twice fried French fries.
My expectation that I’d be thrown tappety-skip down a memory lane of old favorites was not exactly the case.
I opted for a BLT because this one was different and very intriguing. It was made with fried green tomatoes, dipped in crumbs and fried. I ordered it on whole wheat with a side of slaw.
The sandwich was delicious. The tomatoes were encased in a thick, crunchy coating and the bacon was first rate with lots of smoky flavor. I don’t know where the tomatoes hailed from this time of year but they lacked the nice tartness that’s so appealing about green tomtatoes.
With it were a few lettuce leaves and mayonnaise. All in all it was a novel dish and very enjoyable indeed. The Cole slaw was textbook-cookbook classic. It wasn’t the best Cole slaw I’ve had, but it was good.
The idea is to serve a menu of all-American favorites, as though you’ve just stepped into a café in a small southern town that time has forgotten.
I think the menu should be more representational of the genre. Stone’s in North Yarmouth does it perfectly, and places like the Maine Diner, Moody’s and even the irascible Cole’s gets the job done without disrupting the barnyard.
Good coffee shop fare is irreplaceable but often not done well. Hot Suppa might hit the spot as a pleasant casual place serving stick-to-the ribs food if it hoists the bar a bit and piles on more stalwart menu items.
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