American Diner, Take 1

Tired and sunburnt after the 4th of July parade, I wanted to grab a light lunch, so we went to a diner across the street. You know what I've been excited about for weeks? American diners. I was practically quivering with excitement (and probably dehydration) as we entered. Booths, weird industrial chairs, formica tables, it even says DINER on the sign; this is what I've been looking for. 

I perused the menu, but nervous about ordering something the size of my head and not having my happy milk pills with me, I opted for a safe American staple: chicken noodle soup.



Firstly, I don't think chicken broth is usually so yellow. You know what is that shade of yellow? Nothing. Seriously, nothing in nature is that weird yellow/brown/green. Only canned or powdered chicken soups look like that, and I think it's mostly so illiterate children can spot the flavour from five meters away.

And given that I'd been served CANNED SOUP in a restaurant, how do you think the noodles were? Astonishingly bland, like the leftover ends of a really unfortunate home ec pie crust class? Yes, exactly like that. But also sticking together in their sad yellow broth, clinging desperately to the only other beings that will ever like them.

Conclusion: I understand how IHOP feels it can emulate the American diner experience. This was exactly on par with their rubber omelettes. One of five Americas.

Oh, but it's not over. Because the next day, I got talked into going back.

So I spent the morning co-hosting a small town radio show. Turns out I'm pretty good at hosting radio shows, if perhaps should get someone other than my teenage students to select the music. As we wrapped up, I said, "Let's grab some lunch. Y'know, something typically American."

And so as we head off driving, I get excited. Ooh, delicious American food. I imagine the spices, the butter, the good, home-cooked taste. But then what comes into view? Yeah, a towering red sign with white letters: DINER.

This time I was pretty hungry, so I went for the breakfast burrito, a "large flour tortilla with eggs, bacon, hash browns, onion, tomato and Cheddar cheese."


Here are the problems with what I received,  in no particular order:
*blandest flour tortilla that has ever been conceived of
*completely COLD, raw, possibly microwaved for thirty seconds to give it some flexibility, tortilla
*inside: potato. Sorry, but potato on flatbread is a delightful Indian dish. A breakfast burrito should feature primarily EGG.
*That potato? Not seasoned at all. I don't think they've even heard of salt or pepper at this place.
*they managed to find the blandest, saddest yellow onion in existence and sprinkle it raw atop the dish. Ditto on the tomato. Clearly they have the ingredients for a simple salsa, but instead they opted for something completely tasteless.
*Served with bottled Pace Picante Sauce. And you know how 'Picante' means 'spicy'? No, absolutely nothing about this had ever even lived on the same continent as a chili pepper.

Conclusion: BLAAAAAAAAAAAAND. One of five Americas. Please God I hope I don't have to go back.