Stonefield Lane is run by feeders, pure and simple. Come hungry, come fragile, come in last night’s eyeliner — we’ll never raise an eyebrow. Eat what you want, drink what you need. Our tiny kitchen turns whatever’s on hand into the good stuff from midday, Thursday to Sunday, and on weekends we’re up early slinging breakfast from 8. Expect gossip, low-level chaos, high-level condiments, eggs and bacon in morally questionable quantities, bread that disappears too fast, cheese that fixes most things, and meat that makes friends of strangers. It’s all welcome here — including you.