Breakfast of Champions at Frog Level V.F.D.

You have to get up pretty early in the morning to make it to the Frog Level Volunteer Fire Department's saltfish breakfast.

They don't count on a lot of attendees from the city, so breakfast is geared for the locals and that means it's served from 6:30 to 8:30.

Apparently Hanoverians get a jump on their Saturday activities by rising before the sun does.

I have a friend who's as into community dining as I am and we made it to Frog Level by about 8:00, with no idea of what to expect.

Our cluelessness must have been written on our faces because a guy in the parking lot took one look at us, interrupted his phone call and pointed, "Second door down there."

The woman who greeted us inside and took our $8 each knew, too.

"Where are you from?" she asked before handing us our divided styrofoam plates.

Then we moved over to the serving line and got the all-important question, "You want everything?"

My guess would be that everyone gets everything at the saltfish breakfast, so we did.

We already stood out enough without getting picky about our food.

Handing over my plate, it was passed from woman to woman.

First off were scrambled eggs, then saltfish, cooked apples, corn cakes, potato casserole and finally bacon.

I asked the older woman behind the potatoes what time she had to get up for this to happen by 6:30.

"Oh, I was up by a quarter to four to make my potato casserole," she explained.

"Are you going to go home and take a nap?" I asked, already sure that I was planning to and I'd only gotten up at 6:45.

"No, indeed! I got to go home and cut the grass!"

As the bacon woman was placing four strips on top of my mound o' breakfast, I made a comment about saving the best for last, because bacon makes everything better.

That made her grin and add a few more rashers to my plate.

The fire trucks had been removed from the station to make room for long rows of tables where men were already eating, one group of them all dressed in camouflage.

At the front, a volunteer offered orange juice and coffee and we asked how early he'd had to get up.

"I been getting up at 4 a.m. for 40 years," he said matter of factly.

So when does he go to bed, I wondered.

"Between 11 and 12. I only need about four hours sleep"

Yes, Hanoverians are a different breed for sure.

The saltfish was herring and fried; my friend and I agreed it must be an acquired taste, at least for breakfast.

Because of its very fishy smell and taste, it was just too strong for either of us at 8 a.m.

The eggs were fluffy and the potato casserole was made of shredded potatoes and flavored with what tasted like onion powder, more creamy than cheesy.

The apples were sweet and full of cinnamon and the bacon was fried perfectly; I ate all seven pieces without a second thought.

My favorite part of the breakfast was the corn cake, fried crispy on the edges and with a soft, springy center;

I ate half of it as is and doused the other half in syrup.

As big a fan of corn bread and corn muffins as I am, I don't know how it is that I'd never had a corn cake before, but I liked it so much, I intend to make some soon.

We talked to a few of the men eating around us.

The only other women in the place were the servers and the cashier in the next room.

One man got up mid-meal and I asked how his breakfast was. "I'm not finished, I'm just taking a break," he explained.

He made a good point because both my friend and I had been starving and had torn into our food, only to feel stuffed within minutes.

When the juice guy came by to refill our cups, we asked him about the saltfish and he explained that it was herring.

He also extolled its virtues,

"You eat saltfish for breakfast and you won't be hungry for a good long while."

He told us that the breakfasts had originally been a tradition for the Rescue Squad, who'd done them for years and years, but had eventually passed the mantle to the fire fighters.

Since there were only about a dozen of us eating by this point (it was close to 8:30 though), I asked how popular they were.

"Last month, we were all out of food by 7:45," he boasted.

Yikes!

We were lucky then to have arrived so late today to still find sustenance.

The breakfasts are held on the first Saturday of the month from October through May, so next month is your last chance for a while to experience a local tradition and have a breakfast that'll stick with you all morning.

Who knows, you may be better able to appreciate saltfish than we were.

And, if not, the corn cakes make it all worthwhile.

But, make no mistake, all that bacon is the true guilty pleasure.