Dilbert’s

Eat It, Chicago! Dilbert’s Cafe

Dilberts (11)To a Chicagoan, far-away Traverse City is familiar, but charming. Like Chicago, it’s on the water and has fantastic beaches full of muscular young men, and pretty women in bikinis. Also like Chicago, it has marinas full of wealthy men in docksiders who are very aware of the length of their neighbor’s … sailboats. You know who I’m talking about. They’re the kind of guys who typically have young, second-marriage wives with huge … sunglasses. The engine that runs Traverse is full of familiar things like Home Depot, Chase Bank, and McDonald’s.

However, if city folk leave Traverse City and head toward Lake Michigan, they are confronted with the unfamiliar: “up north.” In little towns like Interlochen, Honor, and Beulah, you’re going to find few, if any, of the national chains that make you feel safe and secure. You might have to buy gas at Cherryland Grocery, for instance. And if you want to see a movie? You’ll have to see it at the drive-in. Want breakfast? You’re going to have to wander into a Mom & Pop shop. And that’s exactly what I did this morning.

Dilberts (3)Technically, Dilbert’s is in Interlochen. In reality, it’s in an isolated, seemingly random spot along M31, too far away to be embraced by Interlochen’s stalwart, loyal hands. You have to keep your eyes peeled for it, otherwise you’ll only see the sign as you’re flying right past it.

It’s surprisingly airy inside. Clean, open, welcoming. Cute. After only a few seconds, I felt comfortable there. I confidently sensed that my food probably would not be drugged, and I probably wouldn’t wake to find myself tied up and kidnapped in some log cabin in the middle of the northern woods, and later sold into slavery to a couple of overweight, toothless, lumberjacks.

They sell deep-fried pickles here, but not for breakfast. They’re known, apparently, for serving big breakfasts, which is what you might expect in Paul Bunyan country. (Paul, they say, ate 50 eggs and ten containers of potatoes every day.)

My experience at Dilbert’s proved this big-breakfast reputation out. I ordered a skillet, which in the city would probably be the largest item on a breakfast menu, and it came with a side of pancakes that were substantial enough to constitute a full-fledged second breakfast. I scarfed it all down without giving it much of a thought. I don’t know what it is … the pure, fresh, pine-scented air maybe … but something about being up here gives me an appetite.

Dilberts (10)

Corned Beef Skillet, $7.99: Corned beef, American fries, onions, green pepper, mushrooms, Swiss cheese, and two easy-over eggs. Includes a side of toast of pancakes. The beef isn’t as intense as it would be if you were buying it in New York. Still, it was a tasty, hearty skillet. I of course doused it with ketchup.

Dilberts (8)

Cranberry-Walnut French Toast

No need to fear Dilbert’s, my urban brothers and sisters. One Yelp reviewer did wonder, in frustration, when, if ever, they’d have something vegan on the menu. I, on the other hand, wonder how a vegan would have the energy to make it this far off the interstate.

Credits for all images: Make It Like a Man! Hover over image and/or green text for more info. Click to go somewhere.

Dilberts (4)

Buttermilk-Marinade, Oven-Baked Chicken!
The Scout

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