Runcible Spoon - Irish Breakfast in Bloomington

Walking up to the Runcible Spoon on 6^th Street in downtown Bloomington, it looks like any other house lining the side street. A simple cottage in a residential neighborhood, a perennial garden out front and a flagstone patio, the “Spoon” has occupied the same converted home since 1976. An Irishman greeted me inside the door with a warm “What kin I do fer’ ya?” Not exactly the greeting I was expecting to find in Bloomington, Indiana but it turns out the guy was the owner Matt O’Neill, who has resettled to the Midwest from the mother land. He guided me to a small open table beside the aromatic coffee bar in what used to be the kitchen. A quick inspection of the bathroom revealed a cast iron bathtub still in place, now filled to the brim with water and plants, having been repurposed as a fish tank.

After a long ride, I ordered up a massive breakfast. Inspired by the Irish roots, I opted for eggs benedict, adding in side orders of extra eggs, home fries and, true to form, corned beef hash. Despite the influx of homecoming weekend business, my order arrived quickly. The bennie’ was pretty straightforward diner fare; a bit disappointing because based on the ambience I expected a more artisan spin. Thankfully, the corned beef hash delivered. It was packed with tender, real chunks of salty corned beef, and a far more crafted version than its factory canned cousin.

Although satisfying, the Runcible Spoon really isn’t my regular cup of tea. It was a bit too bohemian (read hippy) for my taste. While the food is pretty good, it’s also quite pricey, and my hefty breakfast tallied well over 20 bucks. I’m still puzzled how some of the ragamuffins that traipsed in and out of the place could afford it. Many readers might appreciate a place with a few dozen kinds of home roasted, 100% organic, free trade coffees, delicately sipped in eclectic mugs. And if that’s your thing, you should visit. But in the kinds of joints that I frequent, there is only one kind of coffee; black coffee. It comes in a white mug, and, if you ask the surly waitress nicely enough you might get a pack of sugar and some tepid cream with it. Not that I drink that hideous liquid of course, but it highlights my point.