A small vintage step-van breakfast truck parked at the end of a foggy jetty road before dawn, its service window glowing warm amber

Tolliver Bay, Washington · est. 2019

Breakfast at first light.

Coffee & breakfast truck at the end of the jetty road Tue–Sun from 5:30 AM until sold out

See the morning menu ↓ Where we're parked →

We open when the fleet goes out, and we're usually wiped out before the fog lifts.

First pour at 5:30. Griddle hot by six. The cardamom knots are gone by eight, and we're fine with that. Some things should run out.

5:30first pour, six mornings a week

4 AMthe knots go in the oven

18seats, if you count driftwood

0reasons to hurry

From the griddle

The Jetty Roll$9

Fried egg with a loose yolk, bacon jam, white cheddar, toasted house bun

Dutch Baby$11

Puffed in cast iron, huckleberry jam, lemon, too much powdered sugar

Smoked Salmon Toast$12

Chive crème fraîche, pickled shallot, rye from the bakery in town

Biscuit & Gravy$10

Sage sausage gravy, cracked pepper, one biscuit because trust us

Steel-Cut Oats$7

Brown-butter apples, toasted hazelnuts, cream from Grays Harbor

Cardamom Knot$5

Baked at 4 AM, gone by 8. We're sorry, and also we're not

From the machine

Boat Coffee$3

Bottomless drip in a to-go cup. Refills free if you're in rubber boots

Cortado$4

Four ounces, no ceremony

Flat White$5

Roaster two towns north; we won't say which, they're busy enough

Pour-Over$6

Single origin, rotates weekly, takes four minutes. Watch the water instead

Fir-Tip Latte$6

Spring only, when the new growth comes in soft

Hot Chocolate$4

Sea-salt whip, aimed at children and the honest

Eaten outdoors

Nobody sits down.

Scroll sideways →

A breakfast sandwich with a soft fried egg and bacon in a paper-lined enamel plate on the truck counter — 01The Jetty RollEgg from Miller's flock, jam from last summer's bacon experiment that worked out.

A paper coffee cup steaming on top of a rope-wrapped dock piling with fishing boats blurred in the mist behind — 02Boat coffee, 5:40 AMLeft on a piling while somebody untied a line. Still there at six.

Biscuits and sausage gravy in an enamel plate on a weathered picnic table with dune grass and fog behind — 03Biscuits, at the picnic tableThe one by the dune fence. Bring the blanket, it's colder than it looks.

A dutch baby pancake in a cast iron skillet resting on a driftwood log on a foggy beach — 04Dutch baby, on a logInto the skillet at the window, out wherever you're standing.

A flat white steaming on the wooden truck counter with the grey morning sea out of focus behind — 05Flat white, fog optionalThe window faces the water. The light comes up behind you.

Overheard at the window

“I drove out in the fog on a rumor and ate the best egg sandwich of my life standing in wet gravel. No regrets. Wet socks, though.” Dana R. · Aberdeen

“Third morning in a row. My wife has started telling people I've taken up fishing.” Marcus T. · Tolliver Bay

“Get there before seven or the cardamom knots are gone. I learned that the hard way. Twice.” Priya N. · Ocean Shores

Sample reviews, written for this demo.

The week's rounds

Look for the glow.

No app, no tracker. We're where we say we'll be, six mornings a week, until the last knot goes.

Tue – Fri The jetty road, foot of Harbor Street past the boat launch, where the asphalt gives up 5:30 AM → sold out

Saturday Tolliver Bay Farmers Market Pier 3, next to the oyster people 7 AM → noon

Sunday Cape Alder overlook lot bring a blanket, the view does the rest 6 AM → 11 AM

Monday The truck sleeps. So do we. —

Sea stacks on the Washington coast silhouetted in layered fog as the first pale light breaks over the water — Tolliver Bay · 8:52 PM · we're long gone by now

The van

A bread van, a tide chart, and a two‑group machine.

The Blue Hour is a 1976 Grumman step van that spent its first life delivering bread in Aberdeen. We found it rusting behind a boatyard, gave it a griddle, a grinder, and a paint job the color of four in the morning, and parked it where the harbor road runs out of asphalt.

Everything is made in the van, that morning: the buns, the bacon jam, the knots that sell out before the sun clears the headland. The coffee comes from a roaster two towns north. The huckleberries come from a spot we have sworn, in writing, never to reveal.

If the window's open, the coffee's hot. If the fog's in, even better.

A sugar-dusted cardamom knot pastry on a small enamel plate on weathered wood — the 4 AM knot, pictured at 6:03 AM, gone by 7:41 AM