I think they have been called the Olympic grill for quite a while now Sent from my iPhone > On Feb 3, 2014, at 4:05 PM, "Marcia Moses" <mgmoses@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote: > > Is this the same Golden Harvest we hung out at back in the day? > If so, glad it’s still going. > Marcia and Rob > > From: Steve > Sent: Monday, February 03, 2014 4:53 PM > To: msb-alumni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx > Subject: [msb-alumni] LSJ Article on Golden Harvest > > With a skull, fork and knife, a community built around breakfast . The sign > on the front door of Golden Harvest says the line starts on the outside > "unless balls of fire are falling from the sky," and so it does, in > wind-whipped snow, blazing heat and every other sort of weather every weekend > of the year. More proof of the city's affection for the bite-sized north > Lansing diner and its plate-smothering breakfasts is hardly necessary. But > there are the stickers to consider. You have almost certainly seen them: a > skull with a crossed fork and knife underneath, a jentacular Jolly Roger, no > words to explain what it means. In Lansing, of course, a lot of people know. > Thousands of those stickers have gone out the door of Golden Harvest over the > past eight years, and they mark a loosely constructed community in a town > where it's not odd to wear your breakfast loyalties on your sleeve or, at > least, on your rear windshield. "It doesn't say our name, so it's not even > like advertising," said Vanessa Vicknair. "It's more like a secret handshake > or something. She and her husband, Zane, have owned Golden Harvest since > 2004, near the start of its sixth decade. They've given the place a > particular character, multiplying the tchotchkes, playing music at barroom > volumes, pushing greasy breakfast fare in ambitious and toothsome directions. > She calls the restaurant "a pretty strong unintentional community," built > around long waits, a policy of sharing tables and sense that the clientele > cuts across categories. People who display the stickers are "almost more > letting their freak flag fly," she said, than merely giving a thumbs-up to > the food. Emily Dievendorf sports one of the stickers on the back of her gray > Saturn Ion, not least because "once you've had biscuits and gravy at Golden > Harvest the dish is ruined for you, as anywhere else it won't compare. When > she runs into someone else sporting the same, her most basic reaction is to > "assume that I might actually enjoy talking to them," she said, which she > considers a curious reaction. "When you go in, there are Democrats and > Republicans and there are people who are a little punk rock and there are > people who are kind of granola and there are people who are tatted up and > people who look pretty preppy," said Dievendorf, who is the managing director > of Equality Michigan, a lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender rights advocacy > group. If the clientele has something in common, it's that "they seem to be > independent thinkers," she said. But the stickers can also function as "a > badge of honor," said Cody Hinze, "a way of saying, 'Hey, I'm willing to > stand in line for two hours to have a 'cup' of coffee and some hash browns.' > Hinze, a former designer and multi-media manager with Lansing State Journal, > created the skull-and-silverware logo, after a fashion, carving it into a > 38-pound pumpkin at the counter of Golden Harvest in the fall of 2005. Zane > Vicknair said he knew quickly it should be the logo. "We put it on our menu, > put it on our front door, put it on a T-shirt," he said. Not long after, a > Lansing artist named Tom Sheerin, "a sign and sticker guy for all of my adult > life," started putting it on stickers. Seeing the stickers out in the world - > and they've been spotted as far off as Dubai - has since become a sort of > augury for Vicknair, a sign "that I'm in the right place at the right time. > "It's a happy indication, because it's connected to us. I feel very connected > to them in a weird way. Golden Harvest is not the only Lansing restaurant in > the sticker game. Fork in the Road, an artisanal diner on the city's west > side, has been putting out stickers with a split-fork logo (also sans words) > since this past summer. Fork in the Road co-owner Jesse Hahn reads other > people displaying those stickers as an endorsement of the Fork in the Road's > food and its practice of local sourcing. "We think it's really cool that they > want to tell the city. There are even a handful of cars in the city that > sport stickers from both restaurants. If they are marks of loyalty, they > don't seem to be exclusive. It all invites a certain amount of speculation > about the power of brunch. "Brunch is for debate and recovery while dinner is > for polite conversation," Dievendorf said. "We are spent at dinner but we > bring our whole selves to breakfast. "This," she added, "is an important > subject. Inside Golden Harvest, there is a skull and silverware made from an > old silver bowl, one cut with a laser out of brushed steel, two in stained > glass. A rustier version hangs outside. The stickers once marked a relatively > small circle, Hinze said, but that circle has grown. "I hope all those people > understand that the sticker on their car represents goodness," he said. "It's > hard to put that into words. >