There is a diner that I dig in Manhattan, and I’ve decided to share. It’s called Big Daddy’s Diner. There are three, apparently, but I know the one on Park and 20th. It’s not a “diner” because it has been there since 1962. It’s a diner because that’s its aim. You might think that makes it inauthentic; I think it means that the place takes diner-ism seriously. (Read: it’s just like a old school NYC diner, but cleaned up.)
Big Daddy’s looks like something you’d find on Route 66, and with a husband that dreams of an Americana life, I’ve come to appreciate how fun and soothing romanticized America is. (Only one of us realizes it’s romanticized. I’ll let you guess which.)
What else is great about it? The service is friendly in an authentic sort of way. The guy who seats you will even ask if you care about sitting so you can watch the game on one of their TVs. (I don’t.) The servings are huge. (Of course.) They serve breakfast all day. (Duh.) They just asked me to taste test their new milkshake made with beer. Beer! Why aren’t there more beer milkshakes in this world!? They even offer tater tots as a side dish for chrissakes! Not for the beershake, for the food. Nevertheless…
Need I say more? No. I didn’t think so.