Unless you’re within driving distance of I-95 and north of the Mason-Dixon Line (plus South Florida) you really don’t know what a diner is. I’m so sorry. You’re missing one of life’s true pleasures. Really.
Any meal, any way, 24/7/365. Baking on premises. Coffee bottomless. Greek spoken (fluently).
We had them in Queens. I loved them in Philly and South Jersey. I’m still smitten here in the Land of Steady Habits.
They are where road warriors have lunch. They are where the drunk and stoned have a bite and some coffee at 3:00 AM. And the Twin Pines Diner is where I had lunch with my buddy Bob this afternoon.
There are lots of tasty diners in Connecticut, but Twin Pines in East Haven is the benchmark for what diners are all about.
I walked in a few minutes before Bob and was taken to a small booth. The waitress came by, 
dropped a twenty pound menu on the table and waited for me to say, “Coffee, please.”
God, I love diners.
After a short grammatical discussion whether an item was “turkey bacon” or “turkey, bacon” (the latter), Bob ordered it. My meal was more predictable.
“How was the omelette,” Helaine asked when I came home?
The menu was superfluous. I might as well have walked in with a note pinned to my jacket. It’s always
- ham and cheese omelette
- rye toast
- potatoes
As we ate I realized the real reason I love diners. They’re the best place to have a conversation with a friend… and where everything’s baked on the premises.