Perfecting the most important meal of the day

Because of the small percentage of restaurants in Bloomington open during the morning hours, a good breakfast in this town is a precious commodity. The Runcible Spoon, a Bloomington staple since 1976 that changed ownership in 2001, gives the most important meal of the day plenty of justice.\nThere is no substitute for co-owner and chef Matt O'Neil's grainy made-from-scratch pancakes, accented with an ever-so-slight hint of cinnamon and topped with pure maple syrup. \nFor a simple pleasure, a slice of modest toast can be slathered with a choice of uplifting jams or apple butter. I was in the mood for something savory, so I went with the omelette bonne femme, a wonderful but artery-clogging concoction of eggs, crispy bacon and seasoned potatoes. Paired with freshly roasted coffee rivaling Soma and Starbucks, it is a sublime beginning for any day, as long as you aren't counting calories.\nConsider the Spoon an affordable luxury. The ingredients are nothing different from what you would find in the local grocery store, but with O'Neil's expert touch, they are turned into works of satiating art, leaving the guest with a yearning to indulge again. And ritual indulgences will not break the bank. An ample breakfast at the Spoon will cost an average of $4 or $5.\nHowever, I recently learned that breakfast is not the only thing at which the Spoon excels. Lunch and dinner shine just as brightly.\nI would never normally order tomato soup, accustomed as I am to the Campbell's variety that tastes more like thinned-out ketchup; however, I thought I'd explore what the Spoon had to offer. The soup arrived in a crock, accompanied by unostentatious pumpernickel toast. Chunks of tomatoes provided the milieu for a surprisingly light waltz with the subtle tastes of herbs and pepper. It had the fresh flavor of tomatoes offset by a robust smokiness.\nAmong the best entrees is a spinach ravioli. Pasta pillows, plump with spinach and cheese, rest in a spicy-tomato sauce. Fresh spinach crisply complements with bitterness and texture.\nAlthough it could stand alone, the experience is not limited to the food. Meals are flanked with wall-to-wall bookcases and windows full of plants, all intermingled with lively conversation and the mise-en-scène of an old house. \nUnfortunately, this type of atmosphere is somewhat off-putting to the first-time diner. At first, I was somewhat uncomfortable with the quirky ambience. The extremely laid-back attitude of the staff and loitering patrons can be a bit confusing for someone who is used to being coddled through a dining experience or handed a bag at a fast-food joint. In order to get in the door to the restaurant, I had to step around a group of six or seven people who were sitting drinking coffee, rolling cigarettes and playing with their dogs. When I walked in, a side-tracked hostess behind the counter mumbled to sit wherever I wanted Five minutes later, she entered with menus. Among other eccentricities, the bathtub in the restroom was full of fish. The first visit may be disconcerting, but if you give the restaurant a chance, you'll likely begin to see these quirks in the Spoon's personality as "unique." \nO'Neil, who also runs the Bloomington Cooking School, can be found traipsing around the restaurant most days, chatting with customers in his Irish accent. I had the opportunity to speak with him about the new restaurant he is planning to open in Bedford. Could it be as interesting and tasty as the Runcible Spoon?\n"The Spoon cannot be re-created," he said.