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3719 E Speedway, Tucson
Tuesday - Saturday 11am-9pm/Sunday 10am-9 pm

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Saturday, October 9, 2010





moving the power for the espresso and coffee machines. again.





The espresso machine never fit behind the bar to begin with; the drawings were different from what I’ll call material reality by about three feet, which, it turns out, could house an espresso machine pretty nicely.  Without the three feet, however, we were left with an awkward table in the kitchen.  It was so awkward, as was the coffeemaker in the waiters’ station that left us no counter space, that we ended up moving both of them, the espresso maker for the second time and the coffee maker for the first. 

As it turns out, the wall is an obstacle course of weird framing (it was originally supposed to be a pass-through to the dishwasher station, which also moved) and plumbing (hand sink, sewer vent, coffee machine).  So after four exhausting holes in the wall and a nail-bitingly close call with the sawzall and the sewer vent, we have power, so we can move the machines, create some space where there was none and work only slightly awkwardly as opposed to incredibly awkwardly.  It makes moving the outlet by the back door seem like a cakewalk.

Friday, October 8, 2010


a tight fit



a little more cement for good measure



mission accomplished



mission accomplished


Just wanted to see this one through to the end.

Thursday, October 7, 2010
lowering the lids
a little off the sides
For the past few weeks, we and our guests have been treated to a delightful quirk on our way in the front door, and nothing whets the appetite quite like the noxious vapors of rancid grease warmed by the Arizona sun emanating from a grease trap
gaskety

.  So far, the lids to the grease trap have extended above the ground by several inches, and the lids haven’t fit , so each day as the temperature rises, so does our breakfast.  That problem is behind us now, as yesterday a team of four guys came out, made some unkind remarks about engineers, took the lids down to a reasonable height and cut them down to fit  where they belong, addes a gasket to each one, and presto!  No more horrifying stench.  (Stench actually used to mean a pleasant smell in Old English, and I’ve been interested to discover that words descibing smell have gradually become more and more pejorative over time.  Think of odor and smell.  They’re still right on the fence.  It’s only a matter of time before we’ll be using the word bouquet or perfume to describe the grease trap.

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