Butte Beat: The Tried and True Main St Breakfast Experience

BUTTE, MT - Packed tables. Straight-faced, sweat-coated humans. Standing room only.

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There's nothing like it. Noses are assaulted by decadent aromas, snapping their primal brains momentarily into focus as they make out scents of bacon and sausage. Eyes roam around, attempting to seek out a sense of camaraderie amongst the chaotic symphony unfolding right in front of them. Moving pieces of the impossible puzzle rotate, yell out, slip past, all as if they were carefully choreographed and rehearsed beforehand. The fascinating show is an unintentional one; a natural intersection of evolution and tradition with emotion and focus.

You've never seen anything like it, your consciousness may remind you, as you witness a server carrying five dishes somehow circumnavigate the kitchen, the congested dining room full of children and overpacked tables, and the tight bar area, only to deliver all five dishes not only intact, but efficiently and happily. Your mind drifts, calling back to the few fine dining experiences you possess, where you first observed the unlikely harmony of a bustling restaurant. How similar these experiences are...

What makes this experience so unique is the likelihood of such existing where it does: in a proud yet forgotten mining town, in a recently rebuilt building fresh off the heels of a devastating fire, and in an era where hard work and self-efficacy have long been denounced by many. That is, to say then, a very low likelihood. And yet, here it is, operating smoothly day after day.

The M&M Bar and Cafe, a staple of Butte America, is located in the heart of the Uptown Butte scene: 17 N Main Street. And they do not waste it. Being the innate hub of any major Butte event or happening, the M&M is the familiar friend in an unfamiliar city, a warm cabin in a winter storm, the maple syrup nestled atop a fluffy pancake.

That last analogy isn't too far off either. Have you ever had an M&M pancake? For many of you, that's like asking if you've ever seen a ghost: most of us are lucky to say we have. Some, however, aren't as lucky. Some have never been inside the friendly interior of the iconic restaurant itself, with its enduring windows, its walls littered with Butte familiarities, or its borderline hibachi-style kitchen in front of the bar. Some have never seen the place on a busy (which is to say, normal) Saturday morning, where the employees move as one symbiotic creature, each playing hypothetical instruments in a complex jazz band. No one lags behind. No one misses a beat, a chord, a note. Everyone plays their part. Equally, efficiently, and effectively.

How can they achieve this in such a tight space and serve incredible food while doing it? Food that is perfectly greasy, timed deliciously, and has its own unique imprint? An imprint that—if I were to taste it within a blind taste taste—would warmly identify it immediately? I'm not sure, but my mother taught me that it's not polite to ask too many questions.