Deiner’s Diners

John Deiner of the Washington Post has been to the Mountain. Spud Mountain, that is – a roiling mound of cholesterol. I could feel my arteries clogging, just reading about it:
The waitress seemed to struggle with the very weight of the concoction, a bubbling mass of french fries buried in cheddar cheese and chives. When I pierced the top, steam and bacon vaulted upward through the fissure. The only thing missing was lava pouring down the sides and villagers running for their lives.
Boy, do I love great writing about bad food! Deiner is the Edmund Hillary of Spud Mountain. He conquers that pinnacle and others in a story about New Jersey diners (there are 600 of them statewide, he reports). Additional towering taste treats include Mile High Meatloaf, banana cream pie and pancakes as big as your head. Deiner nails the ambience – if you can call stainless steel and swivel stools ambience – of the diners sprawled along Route 130. Here, he’s taking a pie break at a spot called the Dolphin:
Each time a truck rumbles by on 130, the Dolphin shudders a bit. I swear I see whitecaps in my water glass.
Ah, it all takes me back to Ernie’s, one of my favorite, long-gone joints in Columbia, Missouri. A pal and I once ordered slices of pecan pie to go. The waitress barked to the kitchen, “Pecan! Pair! Walk!”
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