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Monday, July 22, 2013


...and when they came into Papa's on an Sunday morning, they knew what to expect: endless good coffee and cups of hot tea, fresh croissants and fresh jams and jellies from the local farms, eggs that just rolled out this morning.

The waitress has a country smile and a neighbor says a good morning to anyone that can hear.

Somewhere there is music. The music that awaits them drifts back and forth from gentle guitars and morning classical music. The twang of electric guitars has faded away from the small stage of Saturday night.

The walls are alive with the colors from local artists dreams. An announcement board, orderly and filled with information and a calendar of upcoming performances, poetry and readings open mikes and "quiet nights."

As you enter Papa's you can probably hear the rush of breezes in the pines and redwoods up the road and if the wind is just right, the gently clanging of a warning buoy out on the bay, just out the back. When you are on the balcony, enjoying a rich coffee, you can watch the seagulls hover in the updraft over the bay, by the cliffs and get lost in an eternity of whitecaps that have helped paint the landscape since before the beginning of time.

Long before Papa's. Long before any of us, the blue and the white caps have bben the vision that exists just because it is there.

But what you really are aware of are the hearty smells of the soups, Can you smell the beefy vegetable, the fresh hand cut chicken noodle soup with just a touch of allspice to make it a little different?

In the afternoons, the menu is simple: sandwiches and freshly made soups, maybe a special or two in the evening, But what appeals to the locals that have come to love Papa's is that all the food, all the baked goods come from locally owned farms and homey bakeries, bee keepers and vegetables that grew in soil just a few miles down the road. The challenge for Papa is to keep the simple menu fresh with what juicy fruits and crisp vegetables are in season.

This place is a community and reflects the community it lives in. It is bright and fresh with ideas, warm with music, art and poetry and filled with love and the people can feel it. It is alive because it lives in the hearts and minds of the owners. People come down from up north, out of the hills and pull off the highway, not only for the flaky croissants but for the people. It is the people that make Papa's.  Papa's is just walls and a ceiling. The people make the spirit. The people make Papa's.

Papa lives.