Friday Food: Stand-alone Diners Parts 4 + 5
Last weekend I finally crossed the last stand-alone diner off my list when I ate at Star on 18 in Chelsea. The week before, I had eaten at no. 4, the Market Diner in Hell's Kitchen. Of the two, the Market Diner was definitely the more interesting (at least aesthetically), although Star on 18 had better food and exceptional service.
The Market Diner is on 11th Ave between 43rd and 44th streets and is open 24 hours. Not only does the Market have outdoor seating (like the Square Diner) but they also have dedicated parking, which is such an odd sight in Manhattan. The inside is also suspiciously spacious and they could probably fit twice as many tables if they squeezed them in like most New York restaurants are so fond of doing.
The decor is part diner, part 60s Howard Johnson and is a little space-agey and a whole lot of orange. They had real flowers on each table, which was a nice touch (no fake dew drops here), and the egg-and-cheese sandwich I had was quite good.
I was totally enamored with the huge 'diner' sign, until I started to walk away, turned around and saw that the opposite side was even better— the beautiful script 'market' and silvery blue, white and red color palette is the stuff all of my diner sign dreams are made of.
Oh, and Ice-T was waiting for a table when we left, which makes it the only diner of the five where I had a bonafide celebrity sighting — I didn't say anything because I'm a New Yorker now, but I did wait outside for 20 minutes awkwardly staring at him and deciding whether or not I should approach him (because of Law and Order of course, not his rap career).
Star on 18 was the most disappointing of the five diners, architecturally speaking, and if I hadn't been looking for it I would probably have never given it a second glance. Apparently they at least used to have the word 'diner' accompanied by illustrations of traditional diner foods painted on the side of the cement building but it looked as if it had been freshly painted (it also used to be blue).
The inside is loaded with traditional charm, with a counter, stools (with backs!) and rows of booths. The painted windows were a nice spring touch, and from where I sat I had a nice view of the High Line. Our waitress was wonderful and the food was a notch above average diner fare — the eggs weren't greasy, the bacon was crisp and my waffle came with a cup of real, infinitely spreadable butter (no frozen or impossible-to-open packets).
I'm sort of sad that I've eaten at all five of the stand-alone diners on my list already, in the way that I get sad when I finish a good book. I'm also sad in a different way that there are only five stand-alone diners left in Manhattan to begin with, and that there probably won't be anymore opening anytime soon (if ever). Luckily all five are definitely worth revisiting and there are four other boroughs (and a lot more "regular" diners in Manhattan) to keep me in waffles every weekend.
