New York Diner

When I was asked if I'd like to write a piece on diners for the Need Supply Co. blog, of course I said YES. There are few things I like more in life than a good, authentic diner and they're becoming distressingly harder to find in the city.

News of the imminent destruction of the Market Diner really bummed me out, and I made it an even higher priority in my life to find new (old) diners and visit the ones I love more frequently. Writing the blog post gave me another excuse to investigate some new spots, and I found a lot of gems. My best new find was definitely the New York Diner on Northern Blvd in Long Island City (Queens). I'm not sure how this delightful, rail car-style diner managed to stay under my radar for so long, and why it's not on any "Best Diners of New York" lists is baffling to me.

Rail car diners are nearly extinct in the city, with the Empire Diner being the last remaining one in operation in Manhattan. The New York diner is sandwiched between a gas station and a Best Buy parking lot, and is pretty easy to miss if you're not looking for it. The sign just says "diner," and when I got my check it had a third name (Mike's something) but the waitresses were wearing shirts that said New York Diner, and that's how it's known on Yelp.

The place is tiny—there might be seven(ish) booths and ten(ish) counter stools, but it's bursting with old school diner charm. The booths are upholstered in glittery vinyl and there is aluminum and stainless covering nearly every surface. I had already eaten at another diner that day, but I sat at the counter and had a chocolate milkshake, which was delicious (and cheap!). I will definitely be back to eat a proper diner breakfast, even though it's unfortunately a bit out of the way to make it into my regular rotation.

Market Diner

Last spring when I read that there are only five stand-alone diners left in Manhattan, I made it my mission to visit them all (here, here and here). It wasn't hard to do so since I love diner breakfast more than anything, and five is a very depressingly low number. Even more depressing: last week I found out that the Market Diner—one of the best—is going to be replaced by a 13-story apartment building.

The Market Diner opened in 1962, closed in 2006 and reopened again in 2008 after a renovation. Not only is it a one-story structure surrounded by high-rises, but it has parking and space for outdoor seating (set up last year, but not when we went on Saturday). It's these things that make it remarkable in modern-day New York, and of course, they're the things that have made it endangered for quite some time. Currently there is no set date for demolition, but the diner is on a month-to-month lease and permits have been filed for the apartment building.

The zig-zag roof and metal diner sign are perfect, although an even better neon sign was an unfortunate victim of the renovation process (where do these gems go??). The inside was also stripped of most of its character and modernized, with chairs instead of counter stools, but the orange-and-brown color scheme still feels retro enough to count.

Our breakfast on Saturday was bittersweet—joyful because there's nothing better than a good diner breakfast with friends and sad because it's probably the last time we'll be able to have that at the Market Diner.

209 Diner

On the first day that we got to Kerhonkson, we drove past this incredible abandoned diner a few times and I couldn't resist stopping to creep on it a little bit. While definitely not currently in use, the 209 Diner looked like it hadn't been closed for too long and there was a "permit granted" notice on the front door which makes me think it might open again soon. That being said, it was definitely over-grown and just abandoned enough to be a totally worthy stop.

I couldn't resist peeking inside and was surprised to find the interior in such good shape. The decor is classic diner, from the swivel stools to the turquoise-and-black color scheme and pedestal candy dispensers. My very favorite part, however, is the incredible neon sign—and clock!—that I hope remains no matter what the new owners have in mind for the 209.

Friday Food: The Airline Diner

After finishing my (sadly short) list of stand-alone diners left in Manhattan, I knew I wanted to continue my search into the outer boroughs. Last Sunday I went to the Airline Diner in Queens, which was established in 1952 as the Airline but is now part of the Jackson Hole franchise. It's located on Astoria Blvd, close to LaGuardia (hence the airline theme) and accessible by taking the N/R or the M60 bus (I took the bus).

Thankfully they've kept the exterior pretty much intact, and the interior is classic diner décor through and through — shiny vinyl chairs, amoeba-patterned tabletops, jukeboxes, vintage signs — if you think a classic diner should have something, chances are the Airline does. I'm not sure how much of the interior is "original" but none of it feels forced or out of place and it all looked pretty authentic.

The building itself looks as if it has been added onto at some point, and is twice as big as I expected it to be. There is an additional seating area in the back that you access by walking behind the counter, so although there were a lot of people waiting we were seated fairly quickly. I had cinnamon raisin bread french toast, which was as delicious as it sounds, and their diner coffee was strong and the refills plentiful.

I really appreciate that, although they clearly rebranded the diner as the Jackson Hole, they did so in a way that remained faithful to the original signage. So many places would have just slapped a terrible modern logo onto the amazing neon signs or, worse yet, replaced them all together.

You might recognize the Airline from Goodfellas, a movie I definitely should see and I'm kind of embarrassed to say that I haven't yet. The only bad part about going in the morning is that we didn't get to see all of the beautiful neon lit up — I guess I'll just have to go back at nighttime and try one of their "famous" burgers.

I'm very excited about continuing my diner adventures and exploring new-to-me parts of this wonderful city. I'm going to try to go to one new diner each weekend whenever I can — I have no idea where the next one will be but that's all part of the adventure.

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.

Friday Food: Square Diner

On Saturday, I checked another stand-alone diner off of my list when I went to the Square Diner in TriBeCa. Although I live uptown, the Square Diner is directly off the 1 train so it's a straight shot for me, and it's literally steps away from the subway station.

Like the Pearl Diner, the Square feels very out of place for its neighborhood, which makes it all the more remarkable that it's survived the popularity surge and celebrification of the surrounding areas (aka, all of New York). It wasn't very busy when I arrived at about 11 am, but it was full when I left an hour later. There is ample seating outside, which is another quirky and somewhat unexpected perk not usually associated with diners, and I'd love to go back when (if) the weather finally gets warmer.

The inside doesn't seem to have changed much in years (the outside definitely has), from the faded pink vinyl booths and bar stools to the wood panelling and stainless accents, it's classic diner décor through-and-through.

The thing I love most about the Square Diner is that the building is actually triangular, which makes for some awkward spaces where the sides narrow to a point. They even have a circular logo — in fact, the only thing square about the Square Diner is it's name.

I ordered a waffle, and while it was perfectly acceptable it wasn't anything spectacular. It's a little bit more pricey than other diners I've eaten at, but probably a lot cheaper than some neighborhood alternatives. The service was fast if not entirely friendly, so it was a pretty typical diner experience in an above-average space.

I would put the Square Diner above the Pearl Diner in décor and architecture (although the Pearl has a better sign), but below the Empire, which I have a feeling will remain on top. The food was comparable at both the Square and Pearl — I got waffles at both — and I'll have to go back to the Empire for breakfast if I want to see how it stacks up in the waffle department (my guess is fantastically).

I still have two more stand-alone diners in Manhattan on my list, and then I guess I'll have to start on the outer boroughs. There are definitely more stand-alone diners/dining cars left outside of Manhattan and I see a lot of waffles (and diner coffee) in my future (not mad about it).

Friday Food: Stand-Alone Diners Parts 1 + 2

After reading this Scouting New York post  about the last five stand-alone diners left in Manhattan, I immediately added them to my Google map of New York to-dos. It was only a few days after they went on my list that I checked the first one off. Jim and I had a movie to see a few weeks ago on a weeknight, and were looking for a relatively quick meal. I suggested that he pick from one of the diners, and he chose the Empire Diner on 10th Avenue.

I'm pretty sure we started with the best, because you can't get more iconic than the gleaming Art Moderne dining car, which opened in 1946. It has been a few different restaurants through the years and the latest one just opened a few months ago. You may recognize the Empire from various movies or TV shows, and while I watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York this Christmas for the ??th time I made a mental note to check it out. Unfortunately the metal Empire State Building replica is no longer on its roof (where did it go??), but all of the signage and exterior still looks remarkably the same.

The structure and decor are really the only things that say diner — the food is more upscale, a little pricey and actually really delicious. We had the french onion soup and shared the ouzo mac n' cheese, and each was above-average (decent portion sizes too).

Their branding is also completely on-point, down to the striped napkins that I seriously considered "dropping" in my purse (I didn't, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to). I would love to go back during the day when it's light so I can really bask in the kitschy interior and I wouldn't mind basking in a stack of buttermilk pancakes, either.

A few days later, before we caught the Staten Island Ferry for a day of adventures, we checked another diner off the list when we ate breakfast at the Pearl Diner in the Financial District. The Pearl Diner isn't as beautiful or iconic on the outside (or inside) as the Empire, but it does have another crucial diner characteristic: a fantastic neon sign.

There aren't many (affordable) restaurant options in the area, especially on the weekends, which makes the Pearl Diner that much more of an anomaly. In a neighborhood of towering office buildings that basically drip money, a good, old fashioned diner seems completely out of place. I got a waffle that was about half the price you would expect to pay in New York, and every bit as good as any I've had. Their diner coffee was delicious and the refills came frequently, which is always appreciated.

In addition to being the second stand-alone diner to be crossed off my list, the Pearl Diner also holds the distinction of having one of the teeny tiniest bathrooms that I've ever been in. We're no stranger to tight spaces in New York, but their restroom was as minuscule as they come. Upon returning to the table, I remarked that I had been in Port-a-Potties that were roomier and that is no exaggeration.

I adore old-school diners and I'm so glad that I'm making an effort to check out more of them. Although it may seem as if they're everywhere, they're a dying breed in a city that is all about the glitz, glamour and whatever happens to be trendy at the moment. Sometimes the best things in life really are simple, like a cup of diner coffee (no triple-mocha-venti- bullshit allowed) and a plain stack of pancakes. Until they figure out that whole time machine thing, visiting businesses that haven't changed in 60+ years is one of the closest ways to feel as if I've actually travelled back in time. Two stand-alone diners down, three more to go...

Tom's Restaurant

I went to Tom's Restaurant in Brooklyn on Saturday for brunch, but I can't be entirely sure that the following even happened — it was such a perfect, New York experience that I may as well have been dreaming the entire time. When I got there there was already a line out the door, and around the building. But more importantly, I also got there as soon as the free pancakes came out. I had read enough reviews to know that Tom's is famous for feeding its waiting customers, but I still don't think I was prepared.

The full-sized pancakes (with syrup!) were carried by who is surely the world's nicest older gentleman. He looked a little like my grandpa (bald) and he was wearing glasses and a pale pink tie. He was so incredibly sweet from the very beginning — he looked at me, alone and last in line, and said "last, but not least!" — and before I knew it he was back out with full cups of coffee for everyone. As we passed cream and sugar through the line, I already understood where all those five star reviews were coming from — and I hadn't even made it inside of the restaurant yet. Before that would happen, the man made his rounds once more, this time with a heaping bowl of strawberries and fresh whipped cream, and asked multiple times if I would like more coffee.

Once inside the door (and when there were still several people ahead of me), the man asked, "So, your friends are still not here?" When I replied "Nope, it's just me," he immediately said "Oh my gosh. I am so upset. You come with me," and led me (by holding my hand) to a seat at the counter. He was extremely apologetic that I had waited so long in line (you know, the one where they fed me and gave me free coffee) and told the waiter to take "extra good care of me." Somehow, I think he would have done that anyway, but he certainly did after that.

I ordered more coffee and the 2x2x2 (bacon, eggs, lemon ricotta pancakes) and it came out faster than I could have ever imagined. I'm more of a waffle girl usually, but they are famous for their pancakes, and rightly so. They were the best pancakes I've ever eaten, and my only regret is that I was too full to properly finish them.

When I was about halfway through my meal, the older man came back and insisted that he felt terrible that I had had to wait so long, and instructed my waiter to give me a chocolate egg cream, on the house. I resisted asking him to marry me, and instead thanked him profusely and waited eagerly for my (very first!) egg cream. Turns out, egg creams are as gross as they sound (really watery, slightly carbonated and chocolate milk-esque?) but I drank it all because I couldn't risk hurting the feelings of the world's sweetest and most generous man.

Sometime between pancakes and egg cream he also came around offering "fresh orange slices" and I decided then that I never wanted to leave this bizarro world of free food and extreme kindness that I had happened upon. It was also about that time that I realized that sitting right next to the coffee pots was a huge stack of my "happy to serve you" cups — you know, the ones I've been on a mad hunt for (in the wild) ever since I first came to the city. It was a variety that I hadn't found yet (I'm collecting them all!), so I of course got one to go.

My entire bill came to $11, and if you've been keeping track that was for: three cups of coffee, three pancakes, two scrambled eggs, a mound of bacon, strawberries and cream, two fresh orange slices and a huge chocolate egg cream. When the older man came back at the end of my meal and lamented that I hadn't finished my pancakes, I insisted that they were amazing, but that I was just incredibly full. He told me once again how sorry he was that I waited so long (the torture!) and when I told him he was "the nicest," he retorted, "No, you're the nicest. Unfortunately our nices just didn't cross this time," but I assured him they would, next time. Then I left a $9 tip on my $11 bill, which wasn't nearly enough but was all I could realistically afford — Tom's made me long for the day that I'm rich enough to tip absurd amounts for absurdly awesome service, but I can only hope my 82% tip accurately conveyed my appreciation.

Seriously, if you're ever anywhere near Prospect Heights in Brooklyn (or even if you're not), make a trip to Tom's. You might even see me there, since there will most definitely be a lot of "next times" for me and those lemon ricotta pancakes.