The couple sidles up to the counter at Marin Joe’s
and plops themselves down. We’re elbow to elbow, and the man won’t stop casting sideways glances my way—those neighborly glances that
aim to engage.

I’m sitting at a stool straight across from Marin Joe’s famous open-flame grill. It’s the hot seat, and the grill’s loaded down with grilling chops and fish steaks and searing hamburgers.

A mess of chefs work open-air stations at this Corte Madera spaghetti chop-shop, which today experiences the thrum of Sunday late-afternoon business. The place opens at 4pm on Sundays, and by 4:30, it’s practically a full house.

If the cool signage didn’t already give notice, Marin Joe’s is an institution, been around since forever and remains popular with the Marin locals—it’s a classic “joint” of the “old school,” where they prep your caesar salad tableside, like that.

You already know these people, this couple, and you know that they need to be someone’s guide to Marin Joe’s. They absolutely must talk to someone, because they sure aren’t talking much to each other (although that could be my own “couples envy” expressed as embittered observation, true).

The couple’s gotten the attention of a Marin Joe’s patron seated on the other side of them—he’s getting the earful about the brochettes. Yet everyone within earshot knows they’ve been coming here for years, 38 of them.

They’ve had everything on the menu—tonight it’s spaghetti and pork for him, and a dinner salad for her—and I dope out a familiar, quaintly familial patter between the couple and the waiter, who played his role with aplomb: crusty and attentive with the kind and haunted eyes of a poet.

I stare into the flame and feel the heat on my face. I’m here for the burger, nothing else.

I watch it cook. Medium-well for me, please, and would you just look at those thick slices of mild cheddar the grillmeister is dropping on the burger as it flames-up. Wow.

Grillmeister plates the burger with an insouciant flip of the wrist. He’s already jacked the plate with accompaniments: a couple pepperoncini, a bunch of pitted black olives, strictly from the can. Nice.

There’s a handful of decently de riguer fries, and the burger is planted between chewy triangles of sourdough. A pile of sautéed onions gets dumped on the plate, and a lonely leaf of lettuce wilts under the weight of it all.

Whoosh, the waiter drops the plate in front of me. “Mustard?” he asks. Oui.

The Grey Poupon arrives, is slathered on the moist, dense burger—and suddenly I’m lost in an anti-reverie from early in the Obama presidency, when Sean Hannity declared Obama unfit for office because he, too, put mustard on his burger—the soft socialism of the Euro condiment Commie-fag, whatever.

In burgers as in politics, the extremes will either kill you or they will irritate you. That’s why we need places like Marin Joe’s and its hoary under-$15 burger. It’s the reasonable middle ground, and it’s needed now more than ever.

Consider the Glamburger, available at a London restaurant with American-diner pretensions.

Pretension being the operative word. That’s a $1,770 hamburger. It features Kobe Wagyu beef, New Zealand venison, caviar, black truffle brie, lobster poached in Iranian saffron, a hickory smoked duck egg, Himalayan salt, etc. There’s grated white truffle, and bacon. And the burger is covered in gold leaf, well-matched to the silver spoon you’ll be needing to afford this mutha.

Me, I’ll go to Phyllis’ Giant Burgers instead. I was there just the other day, in fact, and ordered the junior cheeseburger with bacon. I was at first taken aback by the burger’s diminutive size, until I remembered that I’d ordered the junior.

Phyllis’ offers a well-turned exercise in balance: spot-on char-broiling, crispy shredded lettuce and unlimited pickle spears at the condiment station. If you want pretense, go talk to the woman at the table next to me about why she’s reading Joyce Carol Oates.

If you want high-concept pretense, look no further than a recent Wall Street Journal report that interviewed professor Patrick Brown from Stanford University. Brown had mastered the art of bioengineered fake cow blood—for use on the quintessential ersatz burger his company has conjured from plant matter.

Brown is taking soylent-food dorkery to previously unexplored depths of veg-obsession at his Redwood City laboratory, where extremist vegans in white lab coats scurry about, faking everything.

Here’s my take: You want a burger, go eat one. You want a vegetarian burger, get yourself a Sunshine Burger. You can’t fake the basic purity of a sunflower-seed patty, so forget the fake bacon, the fake blood and the fake cheese, and load it up with tahini, avocado and tomato slices—trimmings appropriate to the encounter. When you order the real deal, get it with trimmings appropriate to the unwholesome encounter: Of course I’ll have that with bacon.

Marin Joe’s, 1585 Casa Buena Drive, Corte Madera, 415.924.2081. Phyllis’ Giant Burger, various locations, including 4910 Sonoma Hwy., Santa Rosa, 707.538.4004.

Cafes have always been the unofficial workplaces for creatives and freelance writers working on the next big thing. As the laptop replaced the notebook, the internet cafe was born, complete with free WiFi, good music, plenty of sockets and ‘hang out as long as you like’ policy. But finding a cafe in the North Bay that offers all of the above, while keeping coffee standards high can be a challenge, especially outside of large cities. Here are a few dignified options, whether you live on a slope in Marin, or by the river in Sonoma County..

In Sebastopol, Taylor Maid Farms is as close as it gets to a perfect second office. Opened in the beginning of 2014 at the Barlow, the place is a mecca for photographers, writers and scholars who seek a bright, friendly space to accommodate their business and creative exploration. Laptop users can choose between bar stools on the terrace, a spot on the upper level, or roomy tables by the counter, where some visitors have regular seats; many spend the whole day here.

The smell of freshly ground coffee, roasted on location, is ever-present, but the play list changes according to the staff’s mood. You might type to French chansons one day then browse to alternative rock the next. Culinary minimalism—just pastries and cookies—ensures no one will distract you with a tuna sandwich while you’re editing your short film, and the most indulgent item on the beverage menu is lavender or pumpkin latte.

The same no-nonsense attitude can be observed in other Sonoma County hotspots—smaller than Tailor Maid but very effective nevertheless. Roasting their own beans and sharing a modern design of wood and steel, both Acre Coffee in Petaluma and Santa Rosa and Flying Goat Coffee in Healdsburg and Santa Rosa host dozens of laptop users on daily basis. While Acre offers a busy, urban vibe and networking, Flying Goat’s atmosphere is laid-back and small-town friendly, welcoming yoga-practicing girls, rural entrepreneurs and nonprofit enthusiasts.

In addition to the Acre and Flying Goat, Santa Rosa has plenty of laptop-friendly options, but none of them has the sunlight or menu of Criminal Baking Co. & Undercover Noshery. This tiny SOFA district place is charming and arty, with Melody coffee and WiFi fast enough to Skype, if you must. The menu will make sure nobody goes home hungry.

Napa County’s choice of coffee shops could be improved, but glimpses of hope emerge occasionally. Yo El Rey Roasting in Calistoga may have limited seating, but the cute modern design and the excellent fair trade, organic coffee make this coffee shop a pleasant pit stop. The Calistoga Roastery is a cozy alternative, where families outnumber laptop tappers.

Marin County offers plenty of nearly-perfect spots, catering to students, tech workers and young dads on maternity leave. Fans of quirky, unusual settings and anyone who’d like to try a “scuffin,” should head to Dr. Insomniac’s in Novato. Christmas lights and homemade lattes make for a good workday boost, and the muffin-meets-scone pastries are addictive.

In San Rafael, Royal Ground Coffee and Aroma Cafe both have plenty of sunlight and a number of tables to perch your laptop on. Royal Ground has generous food portions and luscious mocha drinks, presented in a relaxed, casual environment. Aroma Cafe serves Grafeo espresso and McLaughlin Coffee Co. brew, plus a tempting Mediterranean menu. The exposed brick and the artwork, featuring local artists, make for a European vibe, perfect for an afternoon escapism session.

Alternatively, a very happening local atmosphere can be found at Mill Valley’s Depot Cafe and Bookstore, located in one of the most charming buildings in the county. An old train depot, the narrow structure’s big windows fill the space with light. As delicious salads and quiches come out of the kitchen, coffee drinks can be overlooked, but great lattes and ice coffees, courtesy of Peerless Coffee in Oakland, are available.

A similar deal—books, sun, music and coffee—makes Corte Madera’s Book Passage a favorite destination. Here, the scene is more Golden Girls than HBO’s Girls, and the menu offers delicious gluten-free options. In chic San Anselmo, where everyone seems to be on a perpetual vacation, the San Anselmo Coffee Roastery is a popular daytime spot. Located on a street corner, it pampers laptop crowds with ample seating, a very Instagrammable mural for a background and house-roasted beans.

Balancing good coffee, quietude and creative energy isn’t easily achieved, but these coffee shops hit the mark.