Let Sunshine Trader brighten your lunch time

What is the one thing that so many longtime, locally owned eateries have in common?

I pondered this question as I sat down recently at the lunch counter at the Sunshine Trader on Ironwood Drive.

Sure, there are obvious similarities among old-school Coeur d’Alene joints such as the Trader, Hudson’s Hamburgers, Rogers Ice Cream, Zip’s, Paul Bunyan and Down the Street.

There’s the classic comfort food served fresh and with a homemade flair unattainable at big-budget chain restaurants.

There’s the down-to-earth quality of service, the staff that treats you like an old friend even if you haven’t visited in years.

There’s the lack of modern décor, the feeling that the profits go back into keeping the food and service at a quality level rather than into flashy remodeling jobs.

There’s all that, but there’s something else, too, that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I’d been at Sunshine Trader for 10 minutes, had ordered my lunch and was daydreaming, staring off into middle space, when suddenly it came into sharp focus: a square blue and white plastic clock with that familiar Pepsi logo.

Yes! For some reason, all the great local eateries have these clocks prominently displayed on the wall.

The clock is not a particularly fabulous object d’art, but it is one thing that seems to be found only at locally owned diners. That austere cola-riffic timepiece – boldly sporting only the numbers 12, 3, 6 and 9 – hangs like an unofficial badge of local pride and independence that you’ll never see at places such as Applebee’s or Red Lobster.

From its roots as a little “hippie joint” that opened in 1981 in the tiny building that now houses the Parkside Bistro to its current digs near the mad rush of the hospital district, the Sunshine Trader has changed relatively little.

When the Trader first opened so many years ago in that City Park hut, the concept of serving healthful organic food was quite foreign to many local people. Whole-grain bread, alfalfa sprouts and avocados frequently were viewed as the territory of vegetarian, dope-smoking, yoga-practicing longhairs who worshipped crystals and smelled like patchouli oil. Real folks ate previously frozen Salisbury steak with instant mashed potatoes and brown gravy down at the Iron Horse.

In fact, I think they’re still there eating the same thing.

Anyway, the Trader was one of the first places around to specialize in fresh veggie sandwiches and soups from scratch, and its status as a local favorite lunch spot was quickly established.

It must have been in the late ‘80s that the Trader outgrew its original spot and moved into its current place amidst the hustle and bustle of the Ironwood zone.

This was a smart move – the neighborhood’s thousands of medical and business workers guaranteed a daily lunch rush. It’s the only lunch option in the whole district (other than the wonderful hospital cafeteria), and it’s been known to get mighty hectic around noontime.

Arrive during the busy hour, and you’re guaranteed a brief wait, although the summertime addition of an expansive patio has helped a bit to alleviate the overcrowding.

I slipped in a little after the main rush at about 1:15 p.m. The restaurant was only half-full of diners, but a palpable sense of mad activity still hung anxiously in the air as young waitresses in blue T-shirts ran around clearing tables.

No wait for me as I sidled up to the front counter and ordered an iced Pike Street tea.

Confused, my waitress turned to her co-worker, “Um …” Before she could continue, the other girl jumped in to clarify, “Oh, he wants an iced spiced tea – it’s the same thing.”

Regardless of what they call it, it’s one of the rarer and more delicious summertime beverages, so refreshing and so very full of natural caffeine.

I finished four tall glasses of the stuff, and my brain was buzzing like an old TV set. I ran into a couple of old friends I hadn’t seen in years, and I was so wired, they probably thought I had taken up a mild crack habit.

I hadn’t visited the Trader in quite a while. Looking around, I realized that, visually, nothing had changed.

The building has an odd polygonal shape, making for an unusually large number of walls, each completely white and bereft of décor under harsh fluorescent overhead lights. Except for that obligatory Pepsi clock and a few token vaguely nautical knickknacks, visual stimulus is kept to a minimum.

The front wall behind the counter has some seriously disturbing baby pink-and-blue-striped wallpaper, and the entryway and hall are covered with a ropy brown treatment I can describe only as a tragedy in lacy burlap.

The fixtures and appliances behind the counter are seriously low-tech and approaching antique status. However, we don’t really come here to admire the modern ambience, and the presence of dozens of lush, overgrown potted plants injects a much-needed organic quality. It’s a no-frills, homey atmosphere.

According to its Web site, the Sunshine Trader came under new management in the recent past, but the only perceptible changes are on the menu.

Over the years, the Trader seems to have expanded from offering only the basics of healthful soups and sandwiches.

There are three kinds of panini on focaccia bread: ham, turkey and Reuben.

There’s the selection of large salads, from the traditional (Caesar and chef) to the offbeat (cranberry feta) to the classic (Oriental salad with mandarin oranges and chow mein noodles).

Most interestingly, there are the crepes, including the tempting sherried chicken crepe and the cleverly named Mexican in a French Jacket crepe, which basically is a burrito with a crepe instead of a tortilla.

Of course, the classic sandwiches are still on the menu, their names alternating between the themes of “The Old Man and the Sea” and “The Lord of the Rings.”

The First Mate’s Choice is stuffed with cashew chicken salad, and the Captain Crab is just that, along with avocado and swiss cheese. The Bilbo is a vegetarian’s delight, with avocado spread, marinated mushrooms, sprouts and tomato.

I actually knew what I wanted before I walked in, even before I had parked the car. It’s something I sometimes get a mad craving for, something I’ve tried at other places that just don’t do it right.

The Hobbit is a warm sandwich with the delightful marriage of turkey, lettuce, cream cheese and chunky cranberry sauce. Served on French bread, it’s messy and delicious, the tang of the cream cheese mingling perfectly with the tart sweetness of the cranberries. It’s like having your own personal mini-Thanksgiving, and I think it’s one of the best sandwiches in the Great Northwest.

In addition, I had to try one of the soups of the day, another thing the Sunshine Trader is famous for. Its Web site claims the restaurant serves more than 120 kinds of soups and that it has a customer who has been returning for 15 years and never has had the same soup twice.

When I visited, it was either vegetable medley or cheddar chowder. I love cheese soup, so I added the cheddar chowder (only $1 more with a sandwich order). It was as scrumptious as the sandwich, thick and creamy and swimming with veggies.

Along with distinctive refreshments such as spiced iced tea and fresh huckleberry lemonade, the Trader recently added a small selection of beer and wine.

Also on offer is soft-serve ice cream as well as homemade temptations such as Godiva chocolate and white chocolate raspberry cheesecakes.

I glanced up at that omniscient blue Pepsi clock and noticed that it was nearly closing time for the lunch-only restaurant. When I stood up, I realized the place had cleared out completely and I was the last man standing.

It was a bit surreal that the place had gone from hectic to vacated in such a relatively short time, but the Trader really knows how to get ‘em in and out.

Its menu even has a guarantee that if you aren’t in and out in 40 minutes or less, your lunch is on the house. I’d imagine that happens only very rarely as the staff is extremely fast and as comfortingly homey as the food itself.

With a bill totaling under $10, I was a very full and extremely pleased customer.

The Sunshine Trader is open Mondays through Fridays from 10 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.