Super Service at KC's Caboose Diverts a Culinary Train Wreck

There’s something about a tiny café that catches my eye and eases the insanely loud grumblings in my tummy.  That’s exactly what drew me to KC’s Caboose on Main Street in downtown Sumner, a cute café with a down-home atmosphere and breakfast all day—a winning combination certain to please my Brakeman Bill appetite.

I was greeted immediately and given a table by some quite entertaining veterans who were sentimentally recalling the old days in the military and what cuisine was offered on the ships back in the day. I must admit I was happy to not see S.O.S. on the menu after their conversation and I began to rethink my choice of sardines in that amazing Caesar salad dressing I had made the night before.

With laughter over conversation on the side, I perused the delicious breakfast selections and honed in on the 8-ounce New York steak and eggs with a homemade buttermilk biscuit on the side. As a lover of tender pieces of meat, I opted on "rare," as medium-rare usually ends up a flat medium and for the mere fact I needed to tame the wild tiger that threatened to come out of my stomach at any moment.

The eggs were buttery and perfectly folded into a scramble. I am always amazed at the yellow coloring of eggs in a restaurant—that shade of sunshine that I cannot perfect at home always makes me wonder where the butter fairy is and what secrets she hides.

The hash browns were a crisp golden brown and probably the best I’ve had in awhile. The spuds had an earthy fresh-out-of-the-ground flavor and must have been marinating in freshly churned butter overnight to capture that specific mouth-watering essence. 

This was good home cookin’ and I couldn’t wait to take the express train to the steak.

My New York was rare as ordered and the first couple of bites were fairly flavorable. If I was a huge fan of pepper, I’m sure I would have been much happier, but pepper aside, my mouth anxiously awaited the third cut but was halted in its tracks by a hearty piece of gristle the size of a locomotive.

My caboose had been derailed.

Now I’m not one to immediately push a plate away and demand another steak—I tried to cut in and around it and the super-optimist in me was sure there was a piece of edible beef that lie in the depths of my meaty mass. Unfortunately, all I ended up with was fork and knife indents on my poor fingers from my cutting capers.

I was a stranded passenger on the meat train until my server came by.

She got down near the plate and was seemingly alarmed at the chaos I had created which resembled some kind of really bad roadkill. She didn’t need to ask me if there was something wrong, she could see that the mass in front of me was really off-track. 

Like the super-conductor she was, she immediately asked if the cook could grill me another steak. I declined. She apologized profusely and like Super Woman, took the plate back to the kitchen and loudly declared its inferiority.

Personally, I was all on board from the customer service. I was not charged for my meal and they truly catered to my altered experience (which really was not a bad one, minus the steak incident). I did, however, take my awesome buttery biscuit home with a dream of putting fresh berries and whipped cream all over it, as well as the remainder of the crack browns … er, I meant hash browns. 

I must admit that I definitely will be back for another meal as the service is amazing and the menu is quite lengthy and super-affordable. I already have my eye on their famous KC’s Super Burger so I now have something to look forward to on my next ride down the rails.

Until then, I’ve got to Beat ‘er on the back!  (Railroad speak: "make fast time") and perhaps wet my train whistle at the next stop along the way.