Eddie’s Tips

Eddie's Lunch Outdoor Sign I’ve written here and here about Eddie’s Lunch, our neighbourhood grill.

If you have read The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, which talks about social epidemics, you will know what I mean when I say that Eddie’s has tipped.

Eddie’s has always been a relatively successful local lunch counter; a renovation this spring (and into summer, alas!), has given them about triple the capacity. And they have, I think, been able to preserve a lot of the “Eddie’s ambience” in the updated space.

Now it used to be that the only people you ever heard of going to Eddie’s were people from the neighbourhood like photographer Jack LeClair (just up King St.) and poet Catherine Matthews (just across Prince St.).

But in the past two weeks there’s been a dramatic change: other people are starting to go to Eddie’s. Last week, for example, Roy Johnstone called me up to invite me to lunch; “how about Eddie’s?” said Roy. So a date was set. Then, just before heading out the door to Eddie’s, I got a call from Perry Williams wondering if I’d like to go to lunch at Eddie’s to discuss an idea bubbling through his head.

Today while stopping at Eddie’s for lunch myself, who should I see but local media mogul Kevin O’Brien leaving the restaurant with the selfsame Roy Johnstone.

And Bunbury consultant Rob Paterson has been spotted several times in Eddie’s enjoying their hearty breakfast.

Eddie’s has tipped. The world will never be the same.


mike rukavina's picture
mike rukavina on December 6, 2001 - 05:10 Permalink

Alas, it appears that Eddie’s has “jumped the shark” (see jumptheshark.com).

Johnny Rukavina's picture
Johnny Rukavina on December 6, 2001 - 08:14 Permalink

Love that ‘jump the shark’! Thrilled to that episode as a youth.

Alan's picture
Alan on December 6, 2001 - 13:12 Permalink

Often there needs to be a disincentive in a diner to maintain it as a fixed untippable place. The Ardmore Tea Room in Halifax goes a loud million miles an hour. A wondeful one on a wharf in Portland Maine whose name escapes me just smells fishy. The Spartan in Halifax operates in four loud generations of Greek. If you love each of these things like I do, they are a blessing both in themselves and buffering those who would tip.