Love letters come in many forms: some are perfume-scented missives written to a paramour, some are filial expressions of loyalty, and some– just a few– are restaurant reviews. Calvin Trillin’s New Yorker article on Shopsin’s restaurant is one of these, and is still, to this day, one of my all-time favorite pieces of food journalism. It was a risky article, too. Apparently Kenny Shopsin, the pater familias and big dog of the restaurant got so furious with Trillin that he refused to speak with him for months after the article was published, despite an apparent exponential increase in business and an expedited move for the restaurant from its long-time digs to its new home on Bedford and Carmine Streets. The anger is suprising if you’re thinking only of the potential dollar signs produced by a fond write-up in the New Yorker, but not at all a shock if you know anything about Kenny Shopsin. He’s known for being a bit of a grump (or a lot of a grump) who does everything his own way; but if that’s all you see, you’ve missed the important stuff. His restaurant is his home, and vice versa. He’s the cook, the waiters and busboys are his kids, and he cooks for people because he enjoys doing it– on his terms– and is talented at what he does.

I know this because Shopsin’s is one of the places I’ve been visiting on trips to New York since 1987. I found it by accident as a teenager while wandering down Hudson Avenue one Saturday morning, having been abandoned by my two friends who were more interested in buying leather jackets than eating breakfast. I went in because there were toys on all of the tables– tin toys, puzzles, Boggle, Rubik’s Cubes– and I thought that was peculiar, but a fantasic idea. Then of course, I saw the menu. People talk about the breadth of the menu at Shopsin’s, but you really just need to see it to believe it. There are close to 1,000 items to order, and in the 18 years I’ve been going, it has grown and grown. It’s like a culinary version of Katamari Damacy, absorbing anything it comes into contact with: a new dish requested by a toddler? It’s there. Dishes inspired by American history? They’re there. Dishes that involve lewd word-play about prostitutes? Yep. You’ve got it. But the amazing thing about all of this is that they are all– every one of them– made with skill. I have never had a bad meal at Shopsin’s. Even when I’ve gambled on unusual dishes such as African Green Curry Soup, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. Kenny Shopsin is nothing if not sure of what he does.

We took Space Cadet out to Shopsin’s recently and, following the simple rules of the house: no cell phone use, everyone must order at least one meal, and no parties of more than four people, we had yet another great brunch. I’m sad to see that there don’t seem to be any more dinners served here– the restaurant closes at 4:00 (at the latest) on the weekend and 3:00 on Tuesday-Friday–but it’s a lifestyle choice that makes sense for a family that wants to enjoy their evenings. I would probably do the same thing, if I were a Shopsin.

Although the ordinance against ordering the same thing as someone else has mostly gone away, you’ll do better to order something unique. And honestly, how hard can it be, with several hundred choices? That said, you should feel free to order the same thing on repeat visits– we always do. Case in point: the jalapeno cheese grits. These could win over the most sclerotic grits hater with their gooey golden topping and potent jalapeno slices. They’re a perfect blend of heat from the peppers and soothing creaminess from the grits.

HungryMan ordered the Brunch Combination M ($18.95), which was a toasted english muffin with tomatoes, ham, green onions, and poached eggs on top. As if that weren’t enough, there were also cinnamon currant pancakes on the platter that were served with their ideal mate: pumpkin butter. Imagine a disassembled Denver Omelet and you’re getting close to the inspiration for this dish. Poached eggs (cooked just right) really make all the difference here.

Cousin Space Cadet ordered the Bruce Name Plate ($8.95), which was a flat (not fluffy) omelet, filled with Jersey bacon and a cheese that we suspect was jack cheese. You can also see from the picture that she’s like me and loves her salt. I think I exercise so religiously not to burn up calories, but to keep my body capable of feeding my salt craving. Maybe I’m actually part deer… . At any rate, Space Cadet thought this omelet was superb and even remarked that she loved the brazen use of the Shoney’s plate. So do I.

I also ordered a Name Plate, the Whitley (also $8.95), on a whim. The combination of chipotle peppers and seared eggs piqued my curiosity, and if I have learned anything at Shopsin’s, it’s that this is the place to indulge an urge to try new things. The Whitley was served with corn tortillas, which normally I do not like very much, but I needed them to counterbalance the heat from the whole preserved chipotles that were folded into the eggs. Hot? Yes. But it was sweet and smoky at the same time, and the fact that the eggs were loose (from being only seared and not cooked through) also helped to cut the fire of the chipotles.

If you do choose a spicy dish, you should know that there are milkshakes here, at the ready, should you need one. HungryMan is working his way through the shake selection and has reached Maple Walnut, which he declared to be a huge success, and even went well with the grits. I never would have thought of that. But that’s really what Shopsin’s is about, at its heart: eating things you never could have thought of yourself and finding that amazingly, they succeed, even when they sound strange. There are tame items on the menu– lots of them– but go out on a limb at least a little. Maybe try the Slutty Cakes if you want a little thrill when you order, but whatever you do, don’t tell Kenny I sent you.

Shopsin’s, 54 Carmine Street, NY http://www.shopsins.com