Irene attended the New Jersey Romance Writers annual Fall for the Book conference over the weekend, and I tagged along so I could (among other things) head into Manhattan to get together with friends both old and new. I’d planned to have lunch with a few other writers and editors from my high-school newspaper, a mini-reunion similar to the one I had last year. But since one of the group couldn’t get free until mid-afternoon, that meant it would be a late lunch, which also meant I’d have time for brunch with someone else.

That someone else turned out to be Sean Howe, writer/editor of the book Give Our Regards to the Atomsmashers! We’d been exchanging e-mails and a phone call as part of his research for his upcoming book on the history of Marvel Comics during the ’70s, and I thought, why not break bread with someone new for a change?

And I also thought—why not finally eat at the legendary Shopsin’s?

For those who’ve never heard of Shopsin’s, this lengthy New Yorker article will fill you in on the details. But the short explanation is that the food cooked at Shopsin’s was supposed to be so eclectic and ambrosial, and Kenny Shopsin himself such an improvisational artist of the griddle, that the combination would make me want to move back to New York just so I could work my way through the menu.

Here he is explaining how to prepare his famous mac ‘n’ cheese pancakes.

But Kenny Shopsin is famous for a lot more than just his food. He’s known for refusing to serve parties greater than four, believing it impossible to properly prepare a meal for such a group. He’s tossed people out for using their cellphones, or because they asked for substitutions, or took photos of the restaurant without asking. (And usually asking got you a no, anyway.) If he thinks you’ve ordered too much food, he’ll refuse to fill your order, and talk you down to a manageable amount. Some have compared him to Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi. But I decided it was time to find out for myself.

So I headed to Manhattan Saturday on NJ Transit and walked the 2 1/2 miles from Penn Station down to Essex and Delancey, figuring that a breakfast such as promised by Shopsin’s required me to work up an appetite.

When I got to the Essex Street Market, I scoped out Shopsin’s and quickly passed by, wanting to meet Sean outside rather than inside so he could advise me on any possible missteps. Another reason I needed to stay on the street was I realized that if Sean called to say he was running late, I wouldn’t be able to answer the phone for fear of being evicted! So I stood by the subway exit and listened to the Writer’s Almanac podcast, which serendipitously turned out to include a celebration of the birthday of Batman creator Bob Kane (that gonif).

Once Sean and I found each other, we joined the a line of about 15 waiting customers and talked about the many Marvel editors-in-chief under whom I’d worked until we were seated at the counter. We studied the humongous menu, but not for as long as you might think, because I made sure to already digest at it at home, knowing that indecision was another thing that could get you booted out.

Sean and I each ordered the slutty cakes (glazed pumpkin, peanut butter, and pistachio pancakes) and split an order of brown sugar, banana, and cashew bread pudding. While I drank the fresh-squeezed orange juice and Sean had coffee, I tried to explain a tumultuous time (you try to make sense of the Jim Shooter era). Eventually one of the cooks (one of Kenny Shopsin’s kids?) came out and said, “That’s too much food.” He told us that we should just split the order of pancakes, and if we were still hungry later, he’d cook us whatever we wanted.

Whoever heard of a restaurant trying to get its customers to order less food? But Shopsin’s hates waste. And there were probably no containers with which to package up leftovers anyway, since they refuse to do takeout.

Eventually the food came, and we asked for an additional plate so we could split up that pancake order. They gave Sean a Melamine Spider-Man plate—another bit of serendipity, considering what it was that had brought us together.

And the food?

It was everything I’d heard it would be. You know those times when you put a fork in your mouth and all thought flees because the flavor pushes out everything but itself? That doesn’t happen often in life, but it did Saturday morning. So we ate in silence for awhile. Silence during which I thought, I will not visit New York again without having at least one meal at Shopsin’s.

Once we were done, I still had time before my linner (if a meal between breakfast and lunch time is called brunch, shouldn’t a meal between lunch and dinner be called linner?), so I decided to head to the Museum of Comics and Cartoon Art, because I wanted to see the David Mazzucchelli and Peter Kuper exhibits. Sean had already seen them both, but even so, he walked me uptown so we could continue the conversation. That’s us above at the museum entrance backed by a blown-up Mazzucchelli panel.

It was a great start to a day that wouldn’t end so great, but I’ll leave that story for some other time when I didn’t just work for 14 hours straight …