Bisbee Breakfast Club — Restaurant in Tucson

So I was on my way to a stranger’s house to buy a supposed vintage lawn gnome signed by Frank Sinatra for $50. You don’t find deals like that very often and I wanted to snag it before the old guy had some stupid family member suggest he take it to Antique Roadshow or Pawn Stars. His house was in midtown near Broadway and Campbell and when I pulled up, the old timer was wearing suspenders and puffing on a Marlboro Red right next to his miniscule, prized possession which was staring right through me as I got out. “Hi… Henry?” He nodded and I pulled out my wallet and approached. Then with a voice made of asphalt, he said “Listen kid, I had another person interested so the price is now $75.” It took every ounce of my patience to not blow up in his face right there. A deal’s a deal and this Boomer was still trying to milk my generation for every liquid ounce of dignity we barely have left. “Listen here Henry, we made an agreement on Facebook like gentleman. I give you $50 and you give me the lawn gnome signed by Frank Sinatra. Simple as”.

Henry took a drag of his ashes and said, with a wry, leathery smile: “it’s called inflation, kid”. The dragon energy swelled in me as my eyes turned red and I started walking with my chest puffed out towards him ready and willing to dropkick him and his stupid gnome into a different dimension but then he held out his hand and stuttered “now hold on, hold on. How bout this, $60 and I’ll throw in a $25 gift card to Bisbee Breakfast Club…” My defenses dropped and I took pause as I looked him right in his deceptive, beady little eyes. “So wait, you’re telling me not only do I STILL have to pay extra but I get the added bonus of having to drive all the way to Bisbee for some French Toast? AND I have to pay club dues??” He retorted “No, you bum. It’s just called that and it’s right down the road. Open to the public and they serve a mean breakfast. A breakfast beyond your wildest dreams.” His mouth started to water and his gaze looked upwards towards the heavens above. “I would make sweet, sweet love to that Copper Queen Skillet if I could…if it was legal” “Ok old timer, here, just take it before this gets too weird”. I pulled out of wad of cash and put it inside of his plaid shirt front pocket before patting it. “Now that’s what I call a deal, kid. Trust me.”

He handed me a blue gift card and said “tootaloo” before lighting up another cigarette and doing a weird walk-dance back inside and disappearing behind the thwap of a swinging screen door. I heard more coughs echoe behind the vinyl sounds of Sinatra’s “My Way” as I held up the gnome. Sure enough, Sinatra’s signature was right there adorned across this mystical little bearded person’s forehead. I whispered “cha-ching” and then my stomach began to grumble louder than my delusions. The stars were aligned and I figured I may as well load up on some breakfast while I look up Sinatra signature authenticators and ways to 10 to 100x my investment.

I walked in and unabashedly said “table for two please” to the flustered but friendly hostess as she tried to hide her judgment. She buried her bewilderment and took us to a corner booth where i’m sure they keep open for any of their usual Bisbee oddballs. Right now im just “weird”, but when i’m rich after cashing in my chips, ill just be ‘eccentric and passionate”. The offputting looks and huddled whispers from strangers turned into a guassian blurs as I buried my face in the Copper Queen Skillet— eggs, bacon, ham, sausage, melty cheese, home fried, spicy sausage gravy and biscuits. Ol Henry was right. But then I almost threw all of it up when I compared documented images of Sinatra’s signature on my phone and held it up to the gnome’s forehead. I’ve been had. This was not Sinatra’s signature. It was horribly off. And Sinatra was spelled with an H at the end. I would have screamed if the meal wasn’t so delicious. I signed my check and left the tip as half cash and half free Frank Sinatrah lawn gnome before driving home utterly defeated. But still best breakfast I ever...

CUSTOMER SERVICE IS "OUT IN THE COLD!"

Four early morning breakfast visits have been made to this location, starting with Saturday Morning 24 November 2024 with the final one Thursday 13 February 2025. The restaurant was cold (56 F) according to the wall thermostat near the restrooms.

On each occasion, the server acknowledged the uncomfortable temperature of the dining area, followed by similar comments, "I will second his request for a warmer room" from nearby customers.

Over this time period, three visits were made to the company website. A request to make the dining area more comfortable with phone or email was made each time.

No response.

On Wednesday 22 January 2025, the store was called (not during a critical period). The purpose of the call was to ask if the heat was fixed as I wished to dine the next morning in comfort. Drew took the call; Drew gave the call to Dawn, General Manager. Dawn apologized, indicating the place would be warm and she would be there and comp my coffee. On Thursday 23 January, the restaurant was cold and Dawn was nowhere to be found.

On Friday 24 January 2025, the first store in Bisbee was called. Stacey, Assistant Manager indicated I would be contacted by the main office after hearing the reason why contact with them was necessary. A response was never received.

On Thursday 13 February 2025, the inside of the Broadway location was ice cold; the server said she could not do anything.

Using access to public records, it was found Bisbee Breakfast Club operates under JB RESTAURANTS I, L.L.C. with an address of 12645 North Carpas Wash Drive, Marana, AZ 85658 (an undeveloped lot according to Google Maps).

Brent Kyte, Trevor Kyte, Christopher Reece and Pat McConaughey are listed as the owners.

Since then, Shaun, Manager at the Broadway store and Missy, GM at the Bisbee store have all been requested to have one of the above owners contact me regarding this ice cold customer service issue at the Broadway store.

As of now, no contact.

As it is such a disappointment to see a good facility decline, not to mention the inherent rudeness of not returning legitimate phone calls, it is believed this review is the best...

Dirty cutlery; careless staff; food OK. This is a real review and not one for the back of the wait-staff t-shirts.

I've been to this popular restaurant a few times and while the food is decent enough, I find it to be rather bland. Every the huevos chorizo rancheros needed hot sauce. my hash browns were soggy and wet on the inside and one side and overdone on the other. Their homemade corned beef and hash was very good. I can recommend that and their coffee. Other people seem to really love their food, so it may have just been a bad few tries.

A hot chocolate ordered specifically without whipped cream came back overflowing with fake cream. It took 10 minutes to get the replacement from the drinks staff. I'll grant that they were busy and harried; however, the carelessness with which they did their jobs disappointed us. This carelessness carries over to the dirty cutlery -- not one fork but two! I can't understand how it was missed (at least) twice since it was quite obvious. They were missed by the kitchen/dishwashing staff and also by whoever rolled up the silverware in the napkin. It makes you wonder if your plates also had it, but you can't see it. Does their dishwasher need to be serviced? There was no shock or dismay when we reported it and asked for new forks. And then to have to wait several minutes for the lemons while the food cools is another sign that the staff just doesn't care. Why wait for the lemons? After the fork debacle, one person in our party wanted to sterilize his new fork with the acid of the lemon first. Another used her pineapple. So there's a...