Hanover Lunch All the Way

Could there be a lovelier day to eat in a courtyard?

I took a friend with me on my return visit to Citizen because he was intrigued by my description of the good food and unbeatable prices, but also sure he couldn't locate it by himself.

Given the steady stream coming in the door, it appeared that a lot more people have discovered it since my first visit.

It is in the heart of downtown.

And despite the chef teasingly telling us not to tell anyone about Citizen, I'd guess that everyone who's eaten there has told someone about this tucked-away gem.

New to the menu was a Hanover tomato, basil, Provolone and roasted garlic paste torta and when my friend started making noises about getting it, I called dibs.

When asked about my choice of side, I wavered.

I'd loved the curried chickpea stew I'd had on my last visit, but I felt obligated to try something different.

The counter girl saved the day by saying, "We've changed it a little since then. You should totally get it again and taste the difference."

Sure, she was enabling me to feed my curried chickpea stew obsession, but she was also right.

The curry was stronger and the garbanzos cooked more al dente.

But next time I'll have no excuse.

It worked out well because my friend got the omelet "all the way" (applewood smoked bacon, sharp Cheddar, ham, caramelized onion and Hanover tomato) with a side of Byrd's Mill grits.

I'd been hoping to try one of the egg dishes since I knew that the chef gets his eggs fresh from a farm in Mechanicsville, and here was my chance.

I knew he'd want some of my sandwich.

The basil was just as fresh as the succulent red and yellow tomatoes on my grilled torta and, like last time, I was too full to eat all of my stew.

His omelet was stellar, large, full of sweet onions and salty bacon and cheese.

My friend assured me I could help myself since he'd never be able to finish such a big dish.

It was a good thing I got in my two bites early on because he finished every bit of it, although the grits went home with him.

We'd taken our lunch out to the courtyard and eaten it on a bench across from a worker bee eating an ice cream bar and reading a library book on her lunch hour.

Our conversation got off to a great start when my friend asked, "So, got any good man stories?"

"You know that's not going to happen," I replied, sending him into a loud laugh attack and startling the ice cream eater.

But from there, we got serious and, like the good friend that he is, he listened while I shared my status quo.

And, like at the end of the very first evening of our friendship two years ago, his summation was the same.

"Whoa."

At that point, the worker bee got up and left, no doubt having heard enough tales from the courtyard for one lunch hour.