Diner, Anyone?

I don't mean go to one; I mean buy one. The American Diner Museum site is a nice diversion, particularly if you'd like to fantasize however briefly about owning one of these chrome beauties.

And if you don't know how to cook an egg, but want to ensure that diners don't go the way of the drive-in, contribute to the Diner Rescue Fund.

Review: Juniors

Junior's Restaurant and Bar

386 Flatbush Avenue Extension at DeKalb Ave.

B,M,Q,R to DeKalb Ave.; B54, B38, B26, B25

Reviewed by Jessa

The Order:

Something Different Sandwich (beef brisket and potato pancakes with sides of country gravy and applesauce); bacon cheeseburger with fries; coffee; Coca Cola; cheesecake (duh)

The Food:

I have a confession to make: Throughout all of my 27 years on this earth as a Downtown Brooklyn Resident, I had yet to make a trip to Junior's before this one. All anyone talked about was the cheesecake, and I've never been a fan of the stuff. The one time I did try a slice of Junior's famous cheesecake, at a backyard birthday bash, I took a few perfunctory bites before uttering a curmudgeonly "feh" and downing another vodka shot (which I am sure had nothing to do with my cake experience).

Well, I have been missing out! The Something Different Sandwich turned out to be an outrageous stack of juicy beef brisket, sandwiched between two humongous potato pancake pillows that were crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside. The country gravy tasted like it came out of some old granny's kitchen, and the chunky applesauce was wonderfully fresh and a perfect complement to the pancakes.

My dining companion Spyderr had similar raves about his bacon cheeseburger and fries. Of course, I simply had to have some (purely for research purposes, I assure you). I am happy to report that I have finally found a perfectly well done burger without sacrificing any juiciness or flavor. The burger was topped with thick, smoky, crispy bacon and good ol' yellow American cheese. The steak fries were crisp and, when salted and dipped in ketchup, the perfect accompaniment to the burger.

We also received a side of crunchy, tangy coleslaw that wasn't swimming in mayonnaise. Rather, there was just a hint of creaminess that allowed the naturally sweet, crisp cabbage to be the star. The pickles that also came with our meal were delectably sour and salty without causing burning, puckered lips.

Considering that we were so full that we had to pack half of our meals to go, Spyderr and I wisely decided to share a slice of strawberry cheesecake. And the cheesecake! Apparently, when I'm sober, Junior's cheesecake is super-tasty! The creamy melt-in-my-mouth filling wasn't gelatinous or too sweet like other cheesecakes I have tried in the past, enhanced by the plump whole berry sauce and streusel crust. In other words: Yum!

The Drinks:

The coffee was hot and delicious, and refills were prompt and plentiful. The half-and-half came in individual thimbles, which made it impossible to overmilk the coffee. I barely needed any sugar, which is the hallmark of good coffee. Spyderr's Coke was cold and bubbly, just as a good Coke should be!

The Service:

The members of the waitstaff were all friendly, from the host who greeted us to the person who refilled our coffee. Our server, the regally named Lenworth, was delightful. He was never pushy or intrusive, yet he magically appeared whenever we needed him.

The Surroundings:

Junior's décor can best be described as casual retro glam. Just being there made me feel a little more glamorous, even in jeans and a smock top. I imagined myself being at Junior's in the evening back when they opened 50 years ago, ordering a Sidecar and wearing a slinky cocktail dress, a rising-starlet sort of dame. Elegant and unfussy, the wood-paneled walls are accented with touches of gold, making the perfect setting for the circular tables covered in white paper tablecloths. The comfortably low lighting didn't compete with the sun streaming through the blinds that decorate the windows. Soothing piano music played, underscoring the Sunday brunch chatter going on around us. I felt relaxed and -- dare I say it? -- hip.

Junior's presentation thrives on simple yet thoughtful touches that accent the surroundings perfectly. Everybody knows that fancy little details make everything taste better! The Something Different Sandwich was held together by a little plastic sword toothpick, which delighted the detail-oriented craft lady in my brain. Spyderr's Coke came in a tall glass with the Junior's logo and guidelines for making the perfect egg cream. Our ketchup and mustard were brought out to us, the mustard actually being Junior's own brand.

Miscellany:

For anyone looking for a delightful lunch spot in the area, look no further! Junior's has a lunch special menu that is available Monday through Saturday. Barbecue aficionados can also partake in a reasonably priced barbecue special menu Monday through Saturday. Take-out and delivery services, a full bakery, and bar (where you can perhaps order a Sidecar of your very own!) are also available. For more information, including the restaurant menu and their vast cheesecake offerings, go to www.juniorscheesecake.com.

Junior's gets an A. Obviously.

Review: St. Clair

St. Clair Restaurant
Smith St., on the corner of Atlantic Avenue
F, G to Bergen St.,; B75
Reviewed by Jessa

The Order:

Feta, tomato and spinach omelet (made with egg whites) with home fries and rye toast, side of turkey bacon, coffee.

The Food:

The omelet wasn't runny, which is just about a miracle when it comes to egg whites. There were plenty of veggies and cheese to appease me, as I hate skimpy omelets. The feta was well distributed, so salting my eggs was kept to a minimum.

The potatoes? Meh. Standard thin-sliced diner style, with nary a pepper or onion in sight. I gave up on those after a few bites.

I did like the rye toast, which was still chewy and plenty buttery, with just enough warmth and crunch. I've never been one for super-crispy toast, but those who are may want to ask for theirs well-done.

As for the turkey bacon, it came to the table with a fair amount of grease on it. I'd pretend to be outraged, but, at a diner, grease equals love. It wasn't slimy or undercooked, which was a huge plus.

The menu was huge, with standard diner fare such as burgers, triple-deckers and the like, and tons of dinner specials.

The Drinks:

Average coffee, fine with a little milk and sugar. I wish I could let you in on their coffee refill habits, but the bright fuchsia old-lady-lipstick stain I noticed on my second sip of coffee put the kibosh on my coffee cravings.

They were very quick to give me more ice water without asking, though, so I'm guessing they would be quick to refill a coffee mug.

The Service:

Full disclosure: in the past, my friend Girl and I had a couple of bad experiences at St. Clair in the past. We would divvy our diner meetings between St. Clair and Salonike. Then, we got this one waitress who was constantly rude while taking our order,

practically throwing our food on the table and then tossing us the check without ever asking if we wanted refills or anything else. When the same waitress was nasty to my friend's child, we stopped going altogether.

This time around, however, said waitress was nowhere in sight, and the service was super-attentive. Despite the busy lunch rush (on a Thursday!), I was approached in rapid succession by three waitresses who gave me ice water, handed me a menu, and took my order, respectively.

My favorite was an older woman, a straight-up sitcom diner waitress. A conversation I had with her on the muggy summer day I went to St. Clair went something like this:

Friendly Waitress (FW): Hot enough for ya?
Me: Seriously. I'd like to kiss the person who created the air conditioner full on the lips!
FW: How about the guy who created work? I sure ain't kissin' him!

ZING! Oh snap! Not exactly a "kiss my grits," but it'll do.

The Surroundings:

Think Brown Derby meets The Krusty Krab. St. Clair has a "bygone era" feel about it. The sign outside has the triumvirate of old-school restaurant attractions: "Steak-Seafood-Chops." Inside, the low lighting and the wooden and red vinyl diner booths were complemented by a long counter with red vinyl swivel stools, where an old man had his melon cut by hand by a cook. The Sanka packets were stacked high, as were the cream cheese thimbles. The wood-paneled walls were covered in fishing nets and nautical accoutrements. And pistols. A second dining room further in had a hunting lodge feel, where men in coonskin caps gather and curmudgeon about "kids these days."

Miscellany:

The ketchup was pourable, people! Pourable! And not watered down! That was enough to make me happy, seriously. Also, can I ask if anyone actually ever orders the cottage cheese and Jell-O combo in the "diet delights" section? Or anything in that section? It's so kitschy, no?

Funny enough, I spotted fishcakes and spaghetti no less than three times on the menu, as well as fishcakes and eggs. Curiouser and curiouser.

St. Clair is definitely for meeting with a friend. It's a bit of a downer to be there alone, since the lighting isn't conducive to reading, my solo-dining activity of choice.

I have to give St. Clair a B+. Clean your glasses properly, people. And if you bring that nasty waitress back, you're downgraded to a C. I'll be watching you, St. Clair.

Review: Carroll Gardens Salonike

Carroll Gardens Salonike Diner

(sometimes rendered as "Carroll Salonike Gardens Classic" or "Carroll Gardens Diner Salonike" -- whatever works for you)

155 Smith Street between Bergen and Dean

F to Bergen Street; B51
Reviewed by Sars

The Order:
1st visit: Bagel deluxe platter

2nd visit: Scrambled egg on a roll with cheese and tomato

The Food:

The bagel platter isn't a keeper; the bagel itself was delicious, and the cream cheese came in individual serving cups, which I like, instead of in sweaty slabs, which I don't, but the lox was very orange, very salty, and kind of gristly-looking. It tasted okay, but presented as elderly.

And then there's the platter flora. Mangy, mushy olives. Dry, old cucumber; dry, old red onion. Decent tomato, but not enough of it. Lettuce was surprisingly fresh by comparison, but I never eat the lettuce anyway. Several lonely, shy capers.

If you want a bagel with lox, just order that and get the tomato on the side; that way they'll slice it fresh. Most people don't eat half the other crap anyway -- and certainly won't here, where it's clearly been in the fridge sans wrap for several days.

However! Nothing but good things to say about the egg-and-cheese. The egg-and-cheese, like pizza and Chinese food, is hard to fuck up, but also hard to do really well -- and the Carroll Gardens does it really well. Pillowy roll, but not too soft and chewy; good rebound. Slices of cheese top and bottom, and that's what I'm talking about. That is pro. Good tomato, not skimpy. Firm eggs, but mushy enough to cohere in the sandwich. That is fine work, gentlemen.

(I will add also that I've ordered in from this place many times, at Bean's house, and their grilled cheese is championship stuff. They can turn out a sandwich at this place for real.)

Also, the pepper isn't overfilled. THANK you.

They have wrapped mints and candies at the front register. Ehh.

The Drinks:

Good coffee for a diner. The sugar pourer looks sketch sometimes, but you can drink their java black. Prompt refills. The water glasses are nice and big, plenty of ice; prompt refills on that, too.

The Service:

Friendly and accommodating; they don't care how long you sit there and they're not eye-roll-y about special requests (I can be, for reasons that are probably obvious, rather picky about my tomato products). Very peaceful place to sit with a coffee and a glass of juice and read a book on a weekday morning.

The Surroundings:

Average pastel-redec stuff -- not my choice, but not notably tacky, either. It's quite spacious.

The ladies' room is very clean and roomy, plenty of paper products, doesn't smell like anything. There was a dude coming out of it yesterday, but hey, it's Brooklyn, you never know what's going on.

Miscellany:

I could have done without the guy planing wood in the back yard right behind me yesterday, truth be told, but I had a little sunbeam on my back; the AC was blasting; I had good black coffee and a good book, and they served my tomato juice with lemon and a little doily, grandma-style, which I love for some reason (the juice was straight out of a can but whatev). The staff is really nice, and mostly in their twenties, but they're like old-man waiters.

So, in spite of the aged crudités and the name confusion, I'm giving this one a solid A.

(If anyone is interested in trying their gravy fries and reviewing those, please email me.)

Review: Vegas Diner

Vegas Diner
1619 86th Street
D to 18th Ave.; B1
Reviewed by Sars

The Order: Greek omelet; home fries; rye toast; coffee

The Food: The omelet was a little runny, but very tasty. The home fries were also yummy; the pepper/onion ratio was a little low, but whatever they used to season the potatoes made up for that.

Ketchup may have been watered; hard to tell. The table had sugar packets instead of a dispenser; I never know how to feel about this. On the one hand, the packets are more hygienic, and dispensers can really be a crapshoot in terms of how well they're maintained, whether the diner cleans them frequently and remembers to put rice grains in for smooth flow. On the other hand, packets are less authentic, to my mind; it's like when you ask for milk or cream for your coffee and they bring it in a tomato-juice glass. Just a little ad-hoc for my taste.

The toast was more like warmed-up bread -- limp.

The Drinks: Good coffee, slow refills.

The Service: The place is gigantic, and at 12:30 on a Sunday afternoon, the post-church crowd keeps the staff jumping -- but this is not exactly an unforeseeable occurrence, and while the waitress was pleasant, she was a little slow. The sixteen-top near our booth might have had something to do with that, but again, part of the point of going to a diner is that you get the food fast. I was on a train for 45 minutes, boss. Chop chop.

The Surroundings: Brilliant. Vegas is a big place, to the point where a guy coming out of the men's actually walked up to our booth and asked for his jacket, not because we actually had it but because he'd gotten lost. There's certainly a debate to be had about the big whole-city-block diners vs. teeny former-train-car diners -- and I'll join that battle in a future entry -- but the beauty of the sprawling places is two-fold: 1) the people-watching, and 2) the length of the counter, and the many visual delights behind it that result.

1) can't be beat at Vegas, which is like Sopranos central casting, and which also reminded me of the place my uncle took me to for "brunch club" in Michigan, at which time I was the only person present wearing neither a Members Only jacket nor an eye patch (not to mention blatantly ignoring doctors' orders by ordering bacon). Great blend of patrons -- families, girls' lunch, teenage post-church debrief, bowling-team brunch, Jackie Jrs. dogging chicks. Every stratum of Bay Ridge society was represented.

2) meant that A Plus and I spent a good ten minutes marveling at all the kinds of single-serving cereal available. And the full bar, which seemed kind of heavy on the crème-de-menthe selection…it's a diner. Do you need even one kind, much less three?

Vegas also features the ever-popular cocktail placemats, and in-table jukeboxes.

Miscellany: While waiting for A Plus in the octagonal foyer, I was called "hon" by a fellow patron who wanted to know the time. This woman was, I'm pretty sure, younger than I. Awesome. Also, two kids got into an actual full-on slaps-and-bites fight over what strategy to use on the toy-claw-machine thingie. South Brooklyn, man. No prisoners.

I'd like to come back to Vegas when it's not so busy and reassess it on the food merits, but atmo alone gets it an A-minus.

"Dineromon": Chapter Three

Grecian Corner Restaurant
234 7th Avenue (at 4th Street)
F to 7th Avenue; B67
Reviewed by Sars

The Order: Tomato and mozzarella omelet; rye toast; home fries; coffee.

The Food: The omelet is good. The potatoes…eh. They seem undercooked, and the peppers are too crisp as well. The toast is done exactly to my liking (i.e. seven out of ten on the burnt scale) and not pre-buttered.

The Drinks: Average coffee.

The Service: Our server seemed kind of confused by us, but the food arrived very quickly (although I wouldn't have minded waiting a minute or two more if it meant the potatoes cooked longer).

The Surroundings: It's kind of cramped, seating-wise -- better for a twosome than for a foursome. The Venetian/Greek canal murals by Garrity Hugh Collins can definitely pass the time between ordering and eating, what with the unicorns and the rainbows and the clashing with the Valentine's decorations and whatnot.

Miscellany: I was exceedingly pleased to spot the "good kind" of mints by the register -- the fluffy, chewy old-school brand with the flavored centers. Alas, nobody else had apparently spotted said mints since the early nineties, because they were stale as hell.

I know it was a blizzard day, but I'm still dinging Grecian Corner with a C+. Uncomfortable seating and substandard potatoes? Nuh uh.

Spaghetti and fish sticks

Have y'all ever noticed that spaghetti and fish sticks (or fish cakes) is almost always one of the specials at a diner? Because that just occurred to me and Mr. S recently. It's seriously on the specials board nearly every time. I'm going to start tracking it, I think.

Also: Is this something anyone actually makes in real life, like as a dish, at home? Have any of you had that for a family dinner? It strikes me as such a portmanteau leftoversy thing to serve, something you'd only have at a place where you're...already known. Is that just me?