“Nothing’s Finer Than Being in Your Diner”
How about A stack with Vermont and a blonde with sand to energize your morning. Or to take the chill off a rainy lunchtime a Splash of red noise. For dinner, Angels on horseback. This diner language translates to pancakes with maple syrup and coffee with cream and sugar for breakfast, tomato soup for lunch, and oysters rolled in bacon for dinner. From the everyday to the unusual, that is the beauty of diner meals: variety, something for everyone.
The mighty hunger of the McFay brothers multiplies as they step lively and tackle their farm chores. Papa McFay states “There’ll be no eatin till your work is through”. But Papa forgot there was nothing finer than the scrumptious food at Minnie’s Diner. And soon, down the road from Minnie’s kitchen, wafted a smell that got the boys itchin’. One by one the McFay brothers succumb. Will sets the pace by ordering, “I’ll have the special, if it’s no trouble” and here it comes: 1 soup, 1 salad, 1 sandwich, some fries, and one of her special hot cherry pies. As each brother enters Minnie’s Diner, twice as big as his brother before, his appetite is doubled as is the special served up by Minnie. Minnie’s Diner serves a special capable of conquering any appetite, until doubling depletes her pies.
In Tina’s small diner things always ran smoothly. The hamburgers were always big and juicy, the pancakes were always fluffier than pillows and the ketchup never got stuck in the bottles. Morning, noon, and night, day after day, month after month, year after year, nothing ever went wrong. Until…the day the sink got clogged. Right away Tina calls for, “J.P. Pettifog, the best plumber in town, fixing disasters before you drown. If your water is knee deep, please leave a message after the beep.” Customers keep coming and Tina keeps cooking and the dishes keep piling up. In deep guacamole Tina keeps trying J. P. Pettifog, but keeps getting the machine. Our young narrator and his mighty hunger comes to the rescue, otherwise there might not be a supercolossal bowl and spoon for my supercolossal banana skyscraper sundae. He determinedly sets off to find J. P. Pettifog himself. Following the “clickety-clack tap, bang, clankety-rap” of J.P.’s tools, our narrator finally finds J.P. Pettifog in a sewer full of alligators! “ ‘We need you at Tina’s Diner. The sink drain must be fixed.’ ‘I know Tina’s, she said. That’s no place for a clogged drain. Let’s go.’ ” When our heroes finally reach Tina’s Diner her reaction is, “Flying french fries! It’s J.P. Pettifog! Quick! There’s not a marshmallow to spare. I am down to my last plate.” Well out come J. P. Pettifog’s tools and she gets right down to fixing Tina’s clogged sink: “clickety-clack tap, bang, clankety-rap”! And the best plumber in town conquers the clog. When the dishes are done, Tina whips up two supercolossal banana skyscraper sundaes as a reward for “getting me out of a pickle”.
You might be a regular customer at Marge’s Diner like Mike the policeman who arrives daily at 12:15. Bill, Marge’s short order cook, already has Mike’s burger going on the grill when he swings onto one of the stools at the counter. Or Molly, Marge’s young daughter, who arrives with her schoolbooks and is greeted with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and her very own booth where she can tackle her homework. And then there is the high school crowd. They drop quarters into the jukebox and turn the music up as loud as they can. They are hungry and talkative, glad to be at Marge’s where they can relax. But, you might be passing through. Maybe you have seen Marge’s billboard on the highway like the vacationing family in for a big breakfast. They’ll be driving 300 miles before they stop again. Or, the telephone company crew who has been repairing cables nearby. Marge’s Diner has become their favorite lunchtime spot. Marge’s Diner is open 24 hours a day. Whatever your hungering for, At Marge’s you can get good home cooking. Marge’s baker works from midnight till morning making muffins and doughnuts, cakes, and pies. Bill works the grill making sure each order is just right. The soups are made from scratch and if you’re lucky like Ned, “this week’s winner of the jelly-bean contest” Marge will serve you up a Deluxe Dinner “on the house”.
“A Sal’s and a Suicide. You got it, Frenchie.” This is the order of Felix Funicello, cousin to the famous Annette, as he struggles through his conversational french homework. Felix is waiting for his mother and sisters to return from shopping to take him home. His father is away on a trip to the wholesaler’s in Brooklyn. So, Felix is being babysat and fed by Chino at his family’s lunch counter, a “mini diner” of sorts. The translation of Felix’s order is: My father’s signature sandwich — ground chuck sautéed with onions and green peppers, simmered in tomato sauce, scooped onto a torpedo-shaped grinder roll and topped with provolone…The Suicide Coke was Chino’s invention: a fountain drawn Coke mixed with squirts of lime, cherry, and strawberry syrups and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. Since the roll is a grinder and torpedo-shaped you might decipher that the Funicello lunch counter is located in a bus depot in New London, CT.
Fine food is served up and funny regulars keep Felix, who is a curious fifth grader, wondering about well, just about everything. You can always count on A-5, C-11, and E-8 which translate to “Tall Paul,” “O Dio Mio,” and “Pineapple Princess” on the jukebox. These are none other than Annette Funicello’s very own hits which had reached as high as numbers 7,10, and 11 respectively, on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. To celebrate her success, you can order The Annette for dessert: a hot fudge sundae topped with two upright Oreo cookies — edible Mouseketeer ears. But be careful if you want a side of fries with your grinder, if Felix works the fryolater, you may end up with a fried clip-on-tie too.
Just to be sure the message has been sent, has hit home, has been well received… “we’ll always have the diner”. With any great meal, there is the longing for conversation on all levels — meaningful and meaningless. Diner with all its nuances in conversations serves up both.
Quotations in this post are from primary sources listed and pictured.
This post is dedicated to my wonderful parents and brothers and our family meals from long ago at The Croton Colonial Diner, Croton-On-Hudson, N.Y.
And to my amazing family: Sasha, Jim, Katya, Patrick, and Sarah and our many meals at the Blue Colony Diner, Newtown, CT — past, present, and future.
