You Haven’t Lived Until You’ve Eaten at The Curve

I’ve lived within walking distance of The Curve for many years, yet I made my first visit there only recently. The Curve is a Madison institution — similar to Mickey’s Dairy bar, but without the charm. It’s a rough around the edges greasy diner with a big personality. The decor hasn’t been updated for decades and it’s hard not to notice the stained ceiling tiles and air vents. Even my coffee mug looked as if it had lived through a few wars.

The restaurant is a small space, largely taken up by a u-shape bar surrounded by red stools. There are a handful of small tables closer to the front windows and toward the back. Mirrors line the walls giving the space a larger apperance. The clientele is an eclectic mix of longtime regulars, UW-Madison students and staff, and others who work or live nearby.

My husband and I took seats at the counter. Our server wore army fatigue pants and had arms covered with tattoos. A unique combination of gruff and motherly, he was especially attentive and generous with coffee refills.

I ordered one pancake ($4) and a side of bacon ($4). My husband ordered two eggs and bacon ($6), served with toast.

While waiting for our food, I enjoyed taking in the scene. At one point the cook and owner, Bill Antonie, came out of the kitchen and greeted a regular. He spotted a young girl sitting next to the woman. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. The woman chuckled and explained that the girl was her granddaughter, joining her for breakfast on a day off from school.

When the food arrived, and the server asked if he could get us anything else, my husband asked for ketchup and honey. “Honey?” the server asked incredulously. “This ‘aint no fancy joint,” he chuckled. “We don’t have honey.”

The bacon was excellent and crispy — far better than the bacon I’ve had at Mickey’s Dairy Bar. The single pancake took up my entire plate and was topped with a large dollop of butter. Although it lacked flavor, I took matters into my own hands with the squeeze bottle of maple syrup on the counter. The coffee was good — strong and hot. It was all very filling.

What I like about The Curve is that it’s not trying to be anything it’s not. There’s a complete lack of pretension. It represents the Park Street that used to be. When everything these days feels so trendy and gourmet, it’s comforting to go to an old neighborhood dive, where there’s not much else on the menu besides bacon and eggs, and bottomless coffee.

Just don’t ask for honey. And bring cash.