Wendy’s Country Cafe Slings Breakfast Basics, Rustic Vibe For A Few Bucks
Wendy’s Country Cafe doesn’t really exist. Or, it does, but it doesn’t seem to.
For one thing, half the people I talk to in Everett—even long-time residents—are unaware of its existence when I bring it up. It’s in this strangely quiet patch of downtown, California Street, between Oakes and Lombard. You’d know it if you saw it because of the white and red checkered cinderblock exterior. And the giant chicken outside. You can’t miss the giant chicken.
“One thing I appreciate about the food here is that it’s decidedly no-frills. What you get is breakfast fare on solid plates. No garnish. Nothing cute.”
Chickens comprise almost the whole motif here—interior and exterior. Yep, chickens in downtown Everett: a strange, but not completely unwelcome juxtaposition of rural and urban. Rounding out this farmyard aesthetic are other down-home decorative touches that put the “country” into “country cafe”: lace curtains, wooden signs that say “coffee time” and pine paneling.
Meet Mom and Kathy, the handpainted chickens at the bar // Richard Porter
Step inside.
Though it bills itself as a cafe, I’d classify Wendy’s as more of a diner—a diner of the greasy spoon variety, to be exact. Which is cool. Sometimes you want a big hash and egg breakfast with a no-nonsense cuppa joe heated on a Bunn warmer.
I recently went to Wendy’s with some friends. We found our own seats and watched as people zipped up and down the incline of California Street on Lime scooters. I ordered a combination of sides: old fashioned oatmeal, an egg over easy, and a fried egg and cheese sandwich on sourdough.
The spread // Richard Porter
If the food seems old-timey, it certainly is. The other clientele in Wendy’s seemed to fit a certain demographic. It’s definitely a spot where an older generation like to meet up to talk politics over the morning paper.
Wendy’s offers a lunch menu after 11. You can order breakfast until they close at 2 p.m. (note: the pancakes go away at 11).
I’m pleased to report that the oatmeal was delicious. It came with golden raisins and brown sugar. The egg was on point, too—a fork point puncture spilled runny yolk across the hefty diner plate. One thing I appreciate about the food here is that it’s decidedly no-frills. What you get is breakfast fare on solid plates. No garnish. Nothing cute. If you want to dress up your meal your best bets are those little plastic containers of half and half, or a plastic bottle of Heinz 57.
Enjoying a cup of coffee at the bar // Richard Porter
On the way out, be sure to stop by the giant chicken statue at the end of the counter. Which chicken statute? The one holding the platter of free (free!) fun-sized Almond Joys.
That’s a big chicken // Richard Porter
Walking outside, past yet another giant chicken, I have mixed feelings about Wendy’s Country Cafe. I like its quirks. I like the price point. My entire meal and coffee cost about ten bucks.
Would I recommend Wendy’s to others? Maybe not. I found the service to be less than warm. What, then, am I to make of this anomalous country diner, here in the heart of downtown?
Is this the best diner in town? Is this a true off-the-grid treasure?
I wouldn’t put all my eggs in that basket. Go and see for yourself.
