I have to watch my step as I hop up three outside stairs to the densely tiled interior. A series of signs, posted at eye level along all four walls, remind me not to talk on my cell phone while ordering, to pay in cash, and, of course, to feel welcome. It’s 10:30am, the witching hour between breakfast and brunch. But Raymond’s is hopping. A line of patrons leans along the front counter, ordering in a mix of English and Spanish.