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The phrase “tote-bag hell” was first coined during the 1970s for those interminable weeks when public television programming was interrupted every six minutes to beg the viewers to pledge money. In exchange, the pledger received a “token of appreciation” – a tote bag or a coffee mug. Tote bags and coffee mugs are now apparently passe – instead, the lucky donor gets a CD/DVD of Live from the Andorra Opera House, Peter Lemongello Salutes Allan Sherman! Even a die-hard Peter Lemongello fan must surely be aware that no matter how shiny and new that DVD may be, it’s just an enticement to get you to send money for the greater good.

There’s been a restaurant of some kind in the courtyard of the Hartnell Castle for many years. Femme de Joie knows she dined there a few times, but it was so unmemorable she cannot recall now if it was Mexican, Chinese, or what. Savory Spoon opened in that oft-abandoned spot in late 2011. M. de Joie immediately filed it away in her soon-to-close-due-to-bad-location file cabinet. But it didn’t close; it prospered and grew from being open three days a week to six days. Good things were heard about the food and the pay-what-you-can Mondays. It was time to drive east on Hartnell to visit.

The dining room features perhaps 20 small tables (no booths) topped with butcher paper; a cup of crayons is provided. Also on the tables are small pepper grinders and salt grinders – a very nice touch. Collections of vintage menus and kitchen tools make more interesting wall decor than the usual starving-artist paintings found in small cafes. It was perhaps half-full and not crowded on any of our visits.

M. de Joie was surprised at how varied Savory Spoon’s menu is. There are numerous vegan options (including seitan) as well as gluten-free dishes (though Femme de Joie did not ask whether cross-contamination measures are taken).



VLAT (Vegetarian bacon, lettuce, tomato & avocado) potato salad, $11.00

When vegetarian meat substitutes were first widely available, most of them were on the disgusting side. M. de Joie remembers a booth at the Shasta District Fair circa 1970 that was handing out fake steak bites. She has blocked out exactly how nasty that bite was. There’s been a lot of progress since then, and this sandwich was a good example. Crisp and smoky veg bacon stood in for the real porker product. Matched with local tomatoes and buttery avocados, this was a healthier take on the classic with a strong resemblance to the real thing. On the side, potato salad was good enough to be compared to homemade – this definitely did not come off the Sysco truck. However good the food was, we did expect more food for $11.00.



Monte Meat Burger (brown rice, legumes, mushrooms & vegetables) with chipotle sauce, side of cod chowder, $12.00

It’s easy for most restaurants to offer a veggie burger by just defrosting a Boca or Garden burger, but kudos go to anyone who makes their own. The Monte Meat burger had a meat-like texture (it held together rather than falling into sorry lumps like many veggie burgers do) and taste (though again, it isn’t going to be mistaken for ground chuck). Femme de Joie was rather taken aback at the size, reminiscent of a kiddie burger at a fast-food place, though the homegrown yellow tomato soothed some of the disappointment. Chipotle sauce was very mild and bland. Cod chowder was full of vegetables but a bit short on actual cod, though it had the fishy taste of a cod swimming in the cauldron.



Strawhouse Morning Blend coffee, $2.50

Savory Spoon uses a lot of local food purveyors, including coffee from Strawhouse on Highway 299 at Big Flat. Why would you get coffee from a wide spot in the road on your way to the coast? Because this is exceptionally good coffee and worth the extra trouble.



California omelet (bacon, tomato, avocado, blue cheese) with red house potatoes and rye toast, $9.00

It isn’t that easy to find a really good breakfast in Redding, but Savory Spoon does them right. A tender omelet with a harmonious combination of fillings (blue cheese on an omelet? Yes, please) was the centerpiece. Red house potatoes were a delight – not burned or underdone or out of a freezer bag, seasoned lightly, they made the plate complete. Rye bread from The Oven Bakery in Mount Shasta was a surprise – toast is often just on the side to take up room, but fine rye bread is actually worth eating. A nice touch was jam served in tiny bowls rather than the peel-away plastic tubs.



Biscuits and gravy, $8.00/$5.00

House-made sausage gravy isn’t on the dieter’s list, but this gravy was worth at least a taste or two. Not overly salty or greasy, creamy gravy had plenty of sausage bits (unfortunately, a bit of gristle too). It would have been nice to have the gravy served on the side rather than poured over the biscuit so the biscuit could have remained unsoggy.



Tofu scramble with potato, red bell peppers, onions, mushrooms, with hash browns and rye toast, $9.00

Scrambled tofu? It’s been a staple of vegetarian & vegan breakfasts for years, and is worth exploring if you’re looking for a low-fat alternative to eggs. Colored with turmeric to look like eggs, tofu takes on the taste of whatever it’s cooked with. This was a pleasing mix of vegetables with soft tofu curds. It’s been a mission of Amico del Signore to find really great hash browns, and these were pretty close to potato Nirvana: very crisp, nongreasy house-made shreds of browned potatoes.

The food is delicious with so many nice touches, and the undertaking of the Savory Spoon is noble and in line with everything M. de Joie agrees with. It is located in an underserved area for restaurants and also attempts to serve the disenfranchised population. Savory Spoon has so many good things about it – ingredients sourced from local purveyors, dedication to high-quality organic foods, gluten-free and vegan options, a pay-what-you-can day on Monday for the poor & indigent. Having said all of that, Femme de Joie found this to be by far the most difficult review she has ever written.She walked out of Savory Spoon feeling uneasy, unsettled about some niggling little discrepancy, something that just wasn’t sitting well with her. It finally came to her, not in an enlightening moment of shimmering clarity, but after hours of boring Amico del Signore with existential questions and general angst. It’s the pricing.

Take the coffee, Morning Blend, retailing at Strawhouse for $13.00/pound. It is very good coffee and a very good deal at $2.50. But Cheesecakes Unlimited in Redding serves coffee for $2.79, Clearie’s for $4.00, a French press of coffee (2-3 cups) at Moonstone costs $5.95. Wines: Savory Spoon has a nice selection of primarily local wines. A bottle of Burnsini 2009 Tehama Red sells for $24.00 at Vintage Wine Bar but $18.00 at Savory Spoon. The food pricing seems askew: a large spaghetti lunch (including garlic bread but not soup or salad) costs $15.00 but a 1/3 pound Prather Ranch bacon cheeseburger (including a choice of sides) is priced at $12.50. Chicken and dumplings at dinner is $15.00, more than meatloaf ($14.50). And at breakfast, a bowl of cream of wheat or oatmeal seems sky-high at $7.00, compared to an English muffin with meat, Cheddar, and a fried egg for $5.00. Should a seitan sandwich cost more than a Reuben? Why do inexpensive pasta and chicken cost more than beef? Why is a simple bowl of hot cereal more than a ham-egg-cheese breakfast sandwich?

M. de Joie wondered what’s wrong with the chicken if the pasta costs more? Why do pancakes cost more than an omelet? There must be something she is missing here. It would seem logical to her that a nonprofit restaurant capitalize on the same things that for-profit restaurants make money on – i.e. the huge markup in beverages – so that the other menu items are not so far out of line with other restaurant menu pricing. Does getting a cup of coffee for $2.50 make up for a seven dollar bowl of oatmeal? At what point does “It’s for a good cause” trump actual value? Like the DVD sent out by PBS in exchange for a donation of $120, is it enough to keep people coming back for more, or will it eventually dissuade consumers?

These are questions M. de Joie does not have a satisfactory answer to, but thus far the customer base seems quite happy with the food at Savory Spoon – and in the end, that is what will keep it alive.

Savory Spoon, 1647 Hartnell Avenue #1, Redding, CA 96002. 530-222-7200. Open Tuesday-Saturday, 9 AM – 8:00 PM. Sunday brunch from 9:00 AM – 2:00 PM. Community Monday, 12:00 noon to 4:00 PM; pay what you can. Cash and cards. Beer and wine. Vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free options. Parking lot. Website at www.SavorySpoon.org

Long ago, when Femme de Joie was a young and innocent child at Shasta College, an older-but-wiser man said to her, “Man, the burgers at Damburger are just like the burgers they had back in the ’30s. They’re salty and greasy and crispy.” There was a certain lascivious tone to his words salty and greasy and crispy.. He paused for reflection, then continued sadly, “But then just when you’re about to bite into one, some old fart at the end of the counter lights up a cigarette and blows smoke in your face.” It took Femme de Joie a few years to realize the older-but-wiser man was born in 1945, so how would he know what burgers were like in the ’30s? He did have a point about the smoke, though; that stuck with M. de Joie for years and kept her out of Damburger until she realized no one was likely to light up in there any more.

If you never get into downtown Redding except for the rodeo parade or to pay a traffic fine at the courthouse, you might not even know about the existence of Damburger in its modest little spot on Placer Street. The bright blue awning might be your only clue that this humble little cinder-block building really is a living, breathing relic from Redding’s past.
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There are a few tables with umbrellas outside on the patio; inside are tables as well as counter seating. Sit down anywhere, inside or out, and someone will come take your order, or order at the takeout window. The menu is modest; it won’t take you long to decide. This place hasn’t diversified with French dips and fishwiches and taco salads: it’s burgers, dogs, chips, and fries.
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Double Dam cheeseburger, $5.65, small fries, $2, with fry sauce, .25 (Damburger is one of the only places M. de Joie has come across that charges extra for fry sauce). What’s different about a Damburger is that the burger is cooked until it’s actually crisp and crunchy on the exterior and thoroughly well-done throughout. This can’t be done with frozen patties: too much moisture will keep the meat from browning properly. These fries were perfect: golden, crisp, cooked all the way through.

On Femme de Joie’s next visit, she went inside to order and got to watch the line cooks at work. One cook mans the grill, cooking thin patties and pressing them down to extract all moisture - a practice that makes M. de Joie cringe a little. Burgers are passed off to another employee who preps each bun individually, checking the order tag for no onions or extra ketchup. Finally, a third person bags the burgers, adds fries or chips and a drink, and brings it to the customer. There was no frenetic hurry and no buzzers going off to tell when things were ready, unlike in chain fast-food restaurants. It takes practice to do this right.

The Helen Burger is a thicker patty (1/3 pound) and it’s cooked less well-done than the standard Damburger. That means it doesn’t get the crunchy exterior; without that, it’s perfectly tasty but there’s nothing much to distinguish the Helen from a decent burger at any other independently-owned drive-in.
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Double Dam Dog, $3.75. It’s two hot dogs split in half, grilled, and slapped on a hamburger bun with cheese and trimmings, like if your dad was grilling hot dogs and ran out of hot dog buns. It wasn’t bad, but there was nothing really special about it that would entice M. de Joie to have another one. Like Gertrude Stein said about Oakland, there’s no there, there.

Interestingly, vegetarians and even vegans are served at Damburger: you can get a Garden Burger (vegetarian) or a Boca or chipotle-black-bean vegan burger. However, since they’d be cooked on the same grill with the beef burgers, individuals will have to decide for themselves if that cancels out the vegetarian aspect.

About that institution stuff. It’s one of M. de Joie’s many pet peeves to hear the phrase “a Redding institution since 19–” thrown around loosely, usually on radio commercials. Merriam-Webster defines institution as … “a significant practice, relationship, or organization in a society or culture … something or someone firmly associated with a place or thing …. an established organization or corporation…” Saying Barney’s Drive-Thru Coffee, Duck Calls & Glass Packs, a Redding institution since 2003 doesn’t make it so. Damburger is doing something right: they’ve been around since 1938 (to the best of Femme de Joie’s knowledge, only Lim’s Café outdates it for being the longest running area restaurant). Give this institution a try.

Damburger, 1320 Placer Street (between Market and Pine), Redding, 530-241-0136. Open Monday-Friday, 9 AM - 5 PM, Saturday 10 AM - 3 PM, Sunday 11 AM - 3 PM. Street parking only. Cash, cards. No alcohol. Vegetarian and vegan options.

Femme de Joie and Amico del Signore have been enthusiastic fans of KPIG radio for several years after reading about it from a column by Jim Dyar in The Newspaper Of Which We Dare Not Speak Its Name. It was through the PIG that we first got wind of a BBQ joint in San Francisco called Memphis Minnie’s Barbecue Joint and Smokehouse. Being in The City on unrelated business, we made it our business to pay Memphis Minnie’s a visit.

Before we go any further, let’s stop right here and clarify a few points:

– What people cook in their backyards on a Weber on summer nights is not barbecue. That’s grilling. It tastes good but it is not barbecue.

– Real barbecue is obtained by hours and hours of smoking and slow-cooking large cuts of meat over a wood fire, with maybe only a “mop sauce” to baste.

– Real barbecue is not defined by sweet red sauce slathered all over grilled meat, even if it is your special super-secret recipe that you’ve developed over years of experimentation. That stuff is fine for a few chicken breasts or some ribs you whipped up after work, but would be a travesty to drown real barbecue in.
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Even in as colorful a neighborhood as the Haight, you can’t really miss Memphis Minnie’s.
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The place is pretty small, maybe about ten or twelve tables, most of which seat two people. If you hit it at a busy time, expect to wait for a table. They do a lot of takeout — on a nice day you can get an order to go and head down to Buena Vista Park for a picnic lunch that’ll kick Subway’s butt.

You walk up to the counter and order. The very helpful and friendly counterman will explain the difference between a plate, a taster, or a sandwich.

In the glass care to the left of the cash register are plates and bowls filled with some of the specialties, such as deep-fried peach pie, BBQ pork rolls, or Smokey Mountain Wings. Place your order, leave your name, and have a seat. There’s a self-serve soda dispenser and flatware around the corner to the right of the cash register; if you order beer or — surprise! — sake, they’ll hand that over right away.

We barely had time to take a quick tour of the place and snap a few photos before our lunch was ready.
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A. Del Signore ordered Memphis Sweet-Smoked Pork Plate ($12.75) which came with a corn muffin and a choice of two sides.
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M. de Joie went for the Smoked Cajun Andouille Sausage Plate ($12.75). We both chose Potlikker Greens and macaroni and cheese for sides.
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On each table is a roll of paper towels and a cardboard Shiner Bock Beer six-pack with squeeze bottles of MM’s own house-made sauces: Texas Red Sauce, North Carolina Vinegar Sauce, South Carolina Mustard Sauce, and Beelzebub’s Breath (”it’s stupid hot!”) Sauce to add to taste. If you want to drown the wood-smoke taste with sauce, it’s your business, but the good folk at Memphis Minnie’s won’t be held responsible.

Those tables, by the way, are covered with clear plastic, through which you can take a peek at cartoons done by previous diners:
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We poured tiny samples of each of the sauces on our plates to dip the meat into (by far our favorite was the slightly sweet, vinegary mustard sauce). We mixed the sauces. We ate the barbecue as God Almighty Himself intended, plain pig pickin’, the porker naked as the day it was born. There were no words to describe the fine barbecue. Mostly we sat and ate in rapturous silence, now and then picking off each other’s plates, then leaning back and gazing at each other in a haze of pleasure. “DANG, this is GOOD.”

The corn muffin was a corn muffin: M. de Joie personally prefers the ones she’s been making for a million years from the recipe off the Albers box, but there was nothing really wrong with these, and Lord knows they were ten thousand times better than that sugary mouthful of cakefluff Marie Callendar’s dares call cornbread. The mac and cheese was divine: oversized macaroni baked in a cheesy bread-crumby sauce.

But what really wowed us were the potlikker greens. Sweet and hot and tender, these chopped stewed greens brought tears to our eyes. The counterman wouldn’t give up the recipe, acknowledging only the greens were collards and there was a healthy splash of the mustard sauce. If there was a disappointment, it was only that there wasn’t really enough potlikker at the bottom of the bowl to dip the cornbread into.

And then, after clearing our plates, Femme de Joiedid something she almost never, ever does: She went back up to the counter and ordered more food. A slice of the homemade pecan pie ($4.75) for her:
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And for Amico del Signore, an appetizer bowl of the rib-tips ($5.95).
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The pecan pie was exactly as promised: made from scratch with a homemade crust, served with honest not-out-of-a-spray-can whipped cream. Packed with pecans and a nearly-creamy filling, it was worth every calorie. As for the rib-tips: lean, peppery, smoky-flavored bits of pork melted off the bone, crispy bits of fat lending moistness and flavor. When we were done it looked like a pig had been staked out on an anthill.

While we were dining we kept a close eye on what the tables next to us were having. One young man brought back what he told us was the Minnie’s Maxi Cheese Burger ($9.95), made with pimento cheese and house-cured bacon, served on a bun that had more in common with a Kaiser roll than a spongy Wonder Bread bun. It came with a mountain of fries. He said there was nothing like it anywhere.

It is to our everlasting regret that the next day was Monday, when Memphis Minnie‘s is closed: We woke up with a barbecue hangover, craving more. We didn’t get to try the fried peach pie, the pit smoked beans, the sweet potato pie, or smoked pastrami. We’ll be back.

Memphis Minnie’s Barbecue Joint and Smokehouse, 576 Haight Street (between Fillmore and Steiner), San Francisco. 415-864-PORK (7675), fax 415-86-8081. Open Tuesday-Saturday 11 AM - 10 PM, Sunday 11 AM - 9PM. Cash and cards. Closed Mondays. Beer and sake. God help you if you’re a vegetarian or have cholesterol issues. No parking whatsoever but Muni lines 5, 6, 16X, 21, 22, 24, 71, 71L, and the N Judah all run either right in front or within comfortable walking distance (see Muni website at http://www.sfmta.com/cms/home/sfmta.php). Website and menu at http://www.memphisminnies.com/

Amico del Signore bought a jar of Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Butter. It's a delicious alternative to peanut butter on a cracker with a little honey, on a stick of celery, or as a filling in a PB&J for those allergic to peanuts or who would just like something a little different. M. de Joie thought it might also work in peanut butter cookie recipes. She fiddled around with a recipe from The Doubleday Cookbook by Jean Anderson & Elaine Hanna, and came up with a basic recipe plus several variations.

Notes: Because the sunflower seed butter contains evaporated cane juice, the normal amount of sugar in the recipe was cut in half. You can, of course, add another cup of white sugar if you wish, but to A. del Signore's and M. de Joie's minds, these are quite sweet enough. To measure the sunflower seed butter, have it at room temperature, insert a butter knife into the butter and stir until the oil becomes emulsified with the solids. And preheat oven thoroughly.



Sunflower Seed Butter Cookies

2-1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup softened butter
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Butter (see note)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Stir together flour, salt, and baking powder. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat the sunflower seed butter into the butter mixture. Chill the mixture until firm but still pliable.

Shape dough into 1" balls and place about 2 inches apart on greased baking sheets. Flatter with the tines of a fork into a criss-cross pattern (dip the tines into water between cookies). Bake at 375 degrees 10-12 minutes or until bottom of cookie is golden. Cool on rack. This dough will freeze well.

Variations:

Shape dough into 1" balls but do not flatten. Roll each ball in a mixture of 1/4 cup white sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon before baking (this will slightly melt and caramelize the sugar) or after baking (more like a snickerdoodle).

Sprinkle criss-crossed cookies with cinnamon-sugar before or after baking.

Add to dough:

- 1 teaspoon real maple extract (Green Mountain Flavors at www.greenmountainflavors.com makes a very good product). This makes a cookie that tastes very much like a peanut butter cookie.

- 3 cups rolled oats and 1 cup chopped nuts (roasted pecans are especially delicious).

- up to 2 cups Guittard's Butterscotch chips.

Trader Joe's Sunflower Seed Butter, $3.99 for 16 ounces. Contains sunflower seeds, evaporated cane juice, salt.

Normally Mlle. de Joie is a Western Shasta County kinda gal. She is not entirely at ease with Enterprise. A trip across the Sacramento River is not undertaken lightly; often she and Amico del Signore will make arrangements so that only one of them has to venture off where Beyond Here There Be Dragons. Not that it's hostile territory, or filled with evildoers. In fact, fallulah71 makes her home there, as does our friend, accomplished chef, world traveler and all-around snappy dresser Christiano. Trader Joe's is there, and the GO Store. Still, there is something alien about it for us, and it takes good reason to cross the river.

It is even rarer that Mlle. de Joie ventures further east to Palo Cedro, but clitav suggested that Mlle. de Joie try a little place called Ortega's. It was completely off our radar, but we are willing to check out small, locally owned businesses, so last night we drove east on Highway 44 and stopped in to give Ortega's a try.

One reason Ortega's had escaped Mlle. de Joie's notice was that it is on the south side of Highway 44. On the very few occasions in recent memory that we have gone to Palo Cedro, we have turned left after exiting 44, and headed for the Bright Lights Big City of the shopping center and its environs. This little cafe is in a strip mall next to the Shell Station on the east side of Deschutes Road. You might never notice it if you were whipping by on your way to, say, a formal dinner gathering of doctors and attorneys in Millville.

When you walk in, you are face to face with the counter/cash register. On the left and right are small dining rooms. The waitress herded us gently toward the left side and plopped us in a spacious booth and handed us menus. The dining room is decorated with a small Mexican flag and map of Mexico, plus various Mexican-themed posters and bric-a-brac. The menu is organized well and is clear and easy to read; dishes are priced more than fairly (i.e. a side of Jalapenos and carrots is $1.00, as was a side of watermelon), with a large selection of Mexican and American dishes, including burgers and fries for the inevitable wuss person who says she doesn't like spicy food. Birria (goat, available with tortillas, rice and beans, $10.50, or in a taco for $2.50) is on the menu - even if it doesn't appeal, its presence on the menu indicates authentic cooking in the kitchen. Another item, Vuelvealavida (shrimp, octopus & oyster cocktail, $11.99), tells you: I'm not at Taco Bell any more.

After taking our order, our waitress explained that where we came in was a salsa bar and there we could pick up a basket of chips and our choice of salsas. The chips are kept under a heat lamp so they stay fresh, hot, and crisp. The homemade salsas are on ice - you have a choice of mild, medium-hot, hot, taco, and avocado, along with a ice-bath tub of fresh radishes. The mild salsa was a chunky and flavorful pico de gallo; the others were purees of chiles, broth, and spices. Though the avocado salsa was a little bland, it improved immeasurably by the addition of some medium-hot salsa. The kitchen was busy preparing a large to-go order so it took perhaps 10 minutes for our food to arrive, but we were busy mixing and matching salsas to go with our bottles of cold Dos Equis Lagers and lime, so we didn't notice.

Mlle. de Joie is happy to announce that the fish tacos served at Ortega's are at least the equivalent of the ones served at La Cabana. Freshly deep-fried fish was folded in two corn tortillas and covered with Mexican sour cream, lettuce, and tomato. Very, very drippy. Enchiladas Suizas were light on the goopy melted cheese that many restaurants pile on, but full of moist shredded chicken and bathed in a tart green sauce of tomatillos, cilantro, and broth.

Amico del Signore is a connoisseur of chile rellanos, and the one served at Ortega's did not disappoint. Made with a fresh Anaheim chile and coated in an exceptionally tender and fluffy egg batter, he declared it the best one he had ever eaten. It was not greasy, heavy, or too spicy. The cheese enchilada alongside was covered in a homemade mild red chile sauce that was not bitter (as they can sometimes be) or too heavily flavored with extemporaneous, flavors such as too much cumin or oregano. And a bean tostada was light and delicate, a salad on top of refried beans and a crisp tortilla.

About those refried beans: along with Spanish rice, they are too often just filling up plate real estate. Not these. Care was taken in the kitchen with these side dishes and they are worth ordering on their own. Not salty, bland, or peppered with oddments like a can of Veg-All, the rice and beans here are rich and substantial.

There was a linguistic snafu when we asked the waitress about the malts offered on the dessert menu. We went around with the waitress for a good five minutes about this, and even now we aren't sure if what Ortega's makes is malts or milkshakes. The waitress - whom we are not blaming; we think this is something that just doesn't translate between English and Spanish - didn't seem to know that a malt is a milkshake with malt powder added, yet the menu clearly read "malts." However, since we were both stuffed and couldn't entertain the thought of dessert, it didn't seem worth pursuing.

We both like Ortega's enough to cross the river and drive to Palo Cedro again. The delicious and plentiful food was freshly prepared by people who take pride in their cooking and their restaurant (which was very clean, including the restroom). It's great value for money - two combination plates plus two side dishes plus two beers came to just over $30.00. And after eating at the many, many chain restaurants that Borgitize Redding, patronizing a place like Ortega's will give you back your soul.

Highly recommended.

- Femme de Joie

Ortega's Restaurant, 9153 Deschutes Road, Palo Cedro, CA 96073, open Monday - Saturday 8:00 AM - 9:00 PM, Sundays 10:00 am - 8:00 pm. Phone 530-547-8989. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Beer and wine. Credit cards. Parking on-site. Menu at Ortega's Restaurant.