They peek out from the behind the counter. And I know they’re laughing at me. This sandwich is a joke, right? A pound and a half of egg salad between toast? It’s impossible to pick up intact, much less get your mouth around. Ha ha. And the double deckers are an even bigger joke. There’s a guy at the next table who looks like a tenured physics professor. He’s been contemplating that BLT with sliced egg in front of him for the last 10 minutes. It’s a mathematical impossibility. The four-inch high sandwich will not fit in the two-inch opening of his mouth. So he ponders. And the kitchen staff snickers. And maybe the bigger joke is this: As we’re musing over our sandwiches, we’re being laughed at for letting those incredible shoestring fries get cold. The Red Fox only does breakfast and lunch and has been a fixture downtown for, well, nobody seems to remember. Fifty years? More? Maybe eating the 2-3-4 Double Decker Burger with Bacon was a test of manhood for Native Americans long before the settlers arrived. The place gets packed with business regulars every day at lunch, so come early, come late, or get carryout. Everybody says something here is the best they’ve ever had. But everybody’s best is something different. The barbecue, the Friday fish sandwiches, the breakfast, the soup, the coffee, the prices. For me, it’s the jokes.
Red Fox Grill
232 E. Sixth St., downtown
Prices: $6–$7 including drink
Breakfast and lunch Mon–Fri
Originally published in the October 2009 issue.