Home Cookin’

Earl’s Home Cookin’
Chicken fried steak and eggs, steaming hot and full of grease. Or maybe it’ll be the New York steak and eggs, served with a heaping pile of home fries spilling off the platter. And be sure to order up those delicious biscuits soaked in gravy so thick you could eat the lumps with a fork.

Ahh. There’s nothing quite like a plate full of lard.

And there’s no better place to get it than Earl’s Home Cookin’ Restaurant in Orange. Through good times and bad, Earl’s has been the place where real (but not real healthy) Americans go to chow down on traditional coffee shop fare — and is there anything more American than a huge steak served with a slab of potatoes, or a sandwich so big you can barely manage to wrap your jaws around it?

If you want entertainment, go to Lenny’s and play with the table tents. But if you want a hot cup of coffee and food sure to satisfy, go to the only place on the safe side of the Southland that’s open 25 hours a day. At Earl’s, if you wait to be seated you’ll wait for a long time. The menus are where they belong–on the tables–and what the servers lack in sophistication they more than make up for in friendliness and ability.

It’s worst because no one ever lost weight eating at Earl’s.

Earl’s is simply the best worst place to eat in OC. It’s best for one simple reason: nothing ever beats a good piece of meat and pile of potatoes. Yeah, they’ve got salads and such on the menu, and I’m sure they do a good job of it, too, but no one seriously eats that stuff at Earl’s. What you get ain’t foo foo food–just old-fashioned grub and good service at a reasonable price.

In fact, spend enough time here and you’ll start looking like one of the regulars. Which is to say you might start looking like a real Orange Countian. If you ever wondered if there was a thing called locals in such a transient place like Orange County, Earl’s is the local’s natural habitat. It’s here you’ll find the working stiffs and business owners gobbling down lunch. And of course, the pyramid-scheme salespeople are always here, hunched over tables and pitching their game to some poor sucker.

Best of all is the smoking section — I mean the indoor patio.

Out where the air is thick you’ll find the senior crowd puffing on their Lucky Strikes, hangin’ out and talking about Reagan to a runny-nose gang of students from Chapman University.

Which is exactly what happens when you put real food in front of real people.