Here ya go, Gillian.
The Philly diner guide-complete with pictures. Now I’ve got to shake the stupid radio jingle- Everybody who knows… goes to Melrose. 
I said to, not of.
Hey, Dave and Ginger, next time you’re down Washington way I’ll treat you to Bob & Edith’s. No tableside jukeboxes and the staff doesn’t smoke but they have just about everything else.
No, it wasn’t a Double T, but you’re right in that they are a prefect example of what I am ranting about. It seems that the owners of this new diner chose to copy the Double T model. An interesting aside, I have noticed that some of the Double T’s are no longer open 24 hours. I guess there’s not that great a demand for crappy pseudo-gourmet food all night anymore. If even the drunks don’t want it, what does that say about what you’re serving?
Two things that I forgot to mention about the Broadway Diner that would likely have made my first visit my last even if all of the other stuff wasn’t wrong. #1: The menu stated that there was a minimum charge of $3.50 per person. WTF?? Here’s a diner that has just excluded itself as a place for people to meet for a cup of joe. Madness. In the same vein was #2. The menu also stated that there was a $3.00 shared plate charge. As an absolute matter of principle I refuse to patronize restaurants which embrace this scam. They get to make the food and charge me whatever they want for it, but after it comes to the table it is MINE, to do with as I like. I can wolf it down, share it with my partner or give one bite to every child at Dundalk Elementary School if I chose, and the restaurant doesn’t get to say dick about my choices. Gingy is 8 3/4 months pregnant right now (which is why when she gets hungry we have to go now and not take the time to drive to a distant restaurant), and the baby has dropped so this has eased somewhat, but a few months ago she physically wasn’t able to eat very much at a sitting because the baby was compressing her stomach. Me buying a full meal and her having half a sandwich off of it, for example, worked well for both of us. If you think I’m gonna pay an extra $3.00 for the right to give my wife a bite of the food that I just paid for, you’re absolutely insane.
We have a fabulous little restaurant called the Resto du Village that is basically what would happen if a gay Quebecois opened up a restaurant according to Dave’s specifications (which I understand is essentially what happened.)
The decor is centred around pigs, the breakfasts are dirt cheap and fabulous, coffee is copious, and the middle-aged waitresses are terribly friendly.
Weirddave, I can so relate to this thread. When I lived in Burlington, VT I had a diner that I would frequent. It was perfect. The wonderful thing about a good diner is that once you are inside, on a mission to tuck in to a few eggs, you could be anywhere in the country. They are truly a slice of America. Now that I have moved to Seattle I am still looking for that diner. <sigh>
Weirddave, as a sop for your soul (though not your palate), read “A Couple of Hamburgers” by James Thurber. It’s part of the *A Thurber Carnival * collection, which is still in print and carried (or should be) by any public library.
I have to say, I am shocked that there may be a dearth of diners in their cradle and natural home. Of course, their natural enemy, the franchise, is immortal while “Pops” and “Moms” and “Two Brothers” eventually grow old and die. This confers a certain evolutionary advantage upon standardized, satisfy-everyone-and-please-noone, soulless, soylent-green-based, plastic-nostalgia sludge that takes more of our money and our faith that life can be good than we can afford. My last real diner, an experience twenty years gone, had been open twenty-four hours a day since it opened in 1934, and the waitresses had apparently been working continuously three shifts a day since that moment. The food was greasy, but the grease came from food, not DuPont’s algae-reduction vats. The waitress was rude, but in the “we know each other” way, and not the impersonal psuedocourtesy that comes off a laminated sheet taped behind the counter and which demeans both utterer and auditor. The decor was fun to look at because it was a good bet that you had been the first person that year to notice that thing on the wall, and what was it (or had it been) for, and what might it look like if it was clean, not the fake, molecule-thin, amnesiobilia (my word: stuff that only evokes feeling among people who have no memory of the real thing) that is shoveled out of plastic warehouses by the truckload. And a pox on us all for letting it happen.
there is a “fox and the hound” here, and they try to be a pub, but are not, wonder if its the same place. i’ve only been to london once, but all the pubs i went in had long bars where most everyone sat. this place has hardly any seating at all, and the bar is not significantly long. and the service sucks. and no parking. all around bad, for any kind of bar. the only reason i can figure they are even open is that they are within walking distance of many apts.
but they used to have nice ashtrays that almost fit in a purse 
a good diner, complete with greasy spoons, is the majestic
*Where have all the diners gone?
Long time passing…
Where have all the diners gone?
Long time ago…
Where have all the diners gone?
Gone all theme-style, every one
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where have the themed restaurants gone?
Long time passing…
Where have the themed restaurants gone?
Long time ago…
Where have the themed restaurants gone?
Gone all upscale, every one
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where have all the upscales gone?
Long time passing…
Where have all the upscales gone?
Long time ago…
Where have all the upscales gone?
Recession took them, every one
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where has the recession gone?
Long time passing…
Where has the recession gone?
Long time ago…
Where has the recession gone?
It’s forced home cooking, everyone
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where has all home cooking gone?
Long time passing…
Where has all home cooking gone?
Long time ago…
Where has all home cooking gone?
Gone to diners, every one
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Oh, when will you ever learn?
Where have all the diners gone…?*
What? Should I start calling you ‘Zippy’, now?
I’m in love with the modern world, boy. I’m in touch. I’m a modern girl.
Collier Road?
They do have decent food – and a 2 for 1 entree on Monday nights (or did at one time) but a pub? Nope, not even close. A little to chi-chi for that moniker.
But the Majestic! Now there is a diner – still. A movie next door at the LeFont Plaza which is still a real “picture show” and a burger at the Majestic…believe it or not I’ve never gotten sick from eating there!
:eek: :eek:
Great song Johnny L.A. – now it is in my head all day – maybe I’ll have to cook a real dinner tonight!
yep. went in last night actually, had a heinekin, and left. without an ashtray 
i’ve only been to majestic once. definately a diner, but just not sure about the food. i think the bugs have names!
Don’t blame it on the Boomers, sweetie pie, at least not this one. Some of us still throw our money in the right direction.
And while we are at it another thing to loathe the slow disappearance of:
—independent bookstores where browsing at 2am was a given, elbow to elbow with people who love to read
:mad: :mad:
Heh. Probably. Some even ask for a tip. You have to suspend some of your sensiblities to enjoy the Majestic. Actually most of them.
Yup, I was just gonna post this. I live on Long Island and everywhere you look there is a diner. There must be like 6 within a couple miles of my house. And I cannot stand any of them!! It is the same thing at every single one; same layout, food choices, atmosphere, etc. I hate these diners. They have so many random things on the menu that I can never choose anything, cause no matter what it is it’s usually crap. But hey, we seem to have IHOPs all over the place too, so as long as those are here, I’m happy. Mmmm, breakfast at 8pm. 
Sounds like New Jersey.
Now, if you want cheesecake and you’re on the New York side of the Hudson, at least up until about 20 years ago the best places to go were either the Castle Hill Diner on Castle Hill Ave in the Bronx, or nearby in Parkchester, the Parkchester Diner. Owned by the same folks back then, don’t know if that’s true today. There were times when it was so fresh and good, I swear it was better than sex. Haven’t found any over here in Jersey that can match it.
On the way to upstate NY, we always do what my parents did: stop at the Roscoe Diner in Roscoe NY. The cheesecake is not quite as good, but it’s good enough, especially after you’ve been driving a few hours and need an energy boost. It’s on the way to just about every upstate college there is.
There’s some decent diners around me, but nothing worth writing about. There’s one by the courthouse in Hackensack that makes excellent shrimp scampi, which is upscale diner food, I realize. Shrimp scampi to me is allowed though.
When in doubt go to Roadfood.com. You’re bound to find something good there at a good price, and you can always recommend more to the Sterns. God knows they love to eat.
I used to work for Fox and Hound here in Iowa. Not such a bad place a far as resturants go, but to modern for a “pub”.
Has everything a pub should have, they just try to be upscale.
They didn’t last long in my area because they picked a bad location. They like to pick strip malls and picked one too far out for anyone to care for.
We have maid rites out here.
But I am not understanding why truck stops are different from diners? They fit the same style. Great food, relaxed atmosphere, cheap, big portions, down to earth unscripted service.
When I go to a diner, I expect astonishingly strong coffee, a waitress in her fifties with a cigarette-roughened voice, and, yes, pie. Pie is an essential part of the diner atmosphere. What you stumbled into sounds horrifying.
I like high-class restaurants as much as the next guy, but when you want that diner experience, you want the diner experience. You don’t want an artful pile of mesclun and arugula next to your damn sandwich.
Not close enough for you to go for dinner, and I’m sorry about that, but if you’re ever out Illinois way you need to stop in Peotone, at a place called Mayberry Junction. No jukebox connections, but everything else works. The waitress knows everybody in town, and calls them all Hon. And, yes, they even have liver and onions. I don’t think it’s on the menu, but it’s a special sometimes. And a Reuben my daughter would kill for.
Nice people, these. We went there for lunch, several family members, when we were in town to make arrangements for my mom’s funeral, and they didn’t charge us. She had been a regular customer, and my brothers still lived in town, so they knew us all.