"Wake up girls! Who wants to go to Tastee Diner for French fries!" my mom announced rhetorically one night around midnight from the hallway outside our bedrooms, rousing my sister and me from sleep.
"But I'm sleeping. And it's nighttime. And it's a school night," I groggily replied. I was such a goody two-shoes back then.
"That's what makes going so fun!" she answered matter-of-factly, "Now get up."
As the three of us sat huddled together in our fake burgundy leather plastic booth -- my sister Kristy and I still in our pajamas ("Your PJs are fine! Let's go!") -- surrounded by late night revelers (it was the place to be back then at that hour), we laughed until we cried, hoovering in copious amounts of French fries, blissfully unconcerned with the encroaching start of our school and work day. All that mattered in that moment was how cool I felt with my mom and sister at Tastee Diner in the middle of the night on a school night. My love affair with diners was a fait accompli.
Diners, in particular the old school, greasy spoon, fake-leather-booth-that-your-legs-stick-to-if-you're-wearing-shorts, tchotchke-filled, usually worn-out joints that are always staffed by harried, but nice waitresses who call you "honey" and take your orders on notepads with a pen (or memorize them), are by definition, fun.
And so it was that Beth, my friend who accompanied me to Madison, Connecticut this week for the first stop on my book tour (at the lovely bookstore, R.J. Julia) and I found ourselves at the Madison Coffee Shop on Boston Post Road. Like me, Beth loves diners, and we needed French fries.
The Madison Coffee Shop is an unassuming spot, which from the outside might be mistaken for just another clothing or curio shop in a string of stores that line the street. But to misquote Neil Armstrong, one step inside, one giant leap back in time.
Though not a dining-car style diner, the inside decor is about as classic as diners get: it's full of junk that makes no sense, Americana pride, and regulars. It looks like nothing's been updated since it opened, and I'm not sure it was up-to-date when it was, but it exudes the hometown, slow moving, scruffy charm a proper diner should. And it was clearly the social center of town; we heard patrons more than once let each another know they'd see one another back there again tomorrow. Same time, same place.
Food isn't usually a diner's main attraction, and the reviews online for the Madison Coffee Shop do little to disprove this, but to the contrary, Beth and I really enjoyed our meals. We both ordered the same thing: Reubens, hold the meat (we're both vegetarians), and of course, French fries.
While it may not seem like a grilled sauerkraut sandwich with Swiss cheese and Thousand Island dressing with a side of fries is a fair measure of a diner's food quality, believe me, few diners are capable of getting this sandwich right, let alone doing it well. The Madison Coffee shop delivered. And our waitress called us "hon." Classic.
Have a favorite local diner? Comment below and find/follow me on Facebook for more conversation. To find out more about my work and latest news, please visit wendysimmons.com and while you're there, sign up for my newsletter so you won't miss a thing.
