Ron owns the Ranch Cafe. He's been there as long as anyone can remember, serving up high-calorie, fat-laden breakfasts and greasy lunches that nobody can resist. His fuzzy curly hair is overshadowed only by his huge white apron, and his infectuous, smiling nature.
This is where the locals come to play, if they're downtown. On any given morning, the same set of men will be sitting in the same set of chairs, surrounded by farmers in town on "business", talking about everything from the draught (because there's always a draught) or the flooding (because there's always some flooding).
The menu includes items such as deep-fat fried grilled cheese sandwiches, eggs fried in lard, and chicken-fried steaks covered with thick gravy that makes your arteries stiffen in fear. The kicker is that it's good -- so good that all your big-city sensibilities of what you should and should not eat will fly out of the window faster than a cat with its tail on fire.
A twang in your voice is not required for admittance, but may be beneficial to help you blend in. As will a knowledge of the day's agricultural laws being passed out there in Washington D.C., where nobody knows how to treat a farmer.
This is probably the best place in Norfolk to go for some local color. It's open from five a.m. until two p.m. only, rain or shine, blizzard or draught, national holidays excluded.