We round the corner of a quiet downtown street in Great Falls, Montana at 7:30 am. “There it is,” I tell my companion, pointing to the sign: 2K’s Kafe. “It looks closed,” she says doubtfully.
But the line of cars on a mostly empty street says otherwise. Sure enough, the little diner is jammed, at this early hour, with locals. They’re chowing down on substantial plates of bacon and eggs, hubcap-sized pancakes and biscuits and gravy, all while chewing the fat.
We squeeze into the lone vacant booth, order (I get a German sausage scramble) and chat with the waitress, who happens to be owner Karla. Her mother, Karen, used to run the place, hence the 2K name.
The breakfast is fairly typical diner fare. The real charm is the local, unhurried character in a world of cookie-cutter outlets.