The Girls in the Diner

An ode to waitresses

My sister and I were doing our usual running around to solve many life problems, specifically household and dinner, when we decided to stop in at Bob’s Diner for lunch. Bob’s was my first waitressing experience. There were three other waitresses, all middle-aged women working to supplement their husband’s salaries. Then there was me, 17-years-old, freshly kicked out of college. I was lousy at keeping my station of three booths and a corner of the counter content. The women covered me for two days then pushed me mercilessly to get my act together. By the end of the week, I could balance four plates up each arm and deliver them in one piece to my customers.

Bob’s Diner. It’s hard up against one of the neighborhood’s small cemeteries which accounts for Bob’s motto, “A Monumental Eating Experience.”

The boy who showed up to take our order looked to be 17-years-old. We were immediately fond of him.

“How long you’ve been here?” Sue asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, “awhile.”

“My sister worked here.”

“When I was 17,” I piped in.

The boy looked horrified.

“Long long time ago,” my sister helpfully added.

A waitress came over. She was nearer our age. “Everything ok?”

“We told him my sister worked here.”

I raised my hand as the sister.

“You knew Ruth? She was the head waitress.”

Yes, yes, yes, of course! How could you forget Ruth of the imposing natural red hair? Ruth who made sure we all took breaks in the back booth by 3 pm, put our feet up on a chair, and get something to eat before the dinner crowd began at 5 pm. Ruth who told me after the fourth day that if I corrected my posture I might not look so hound-dog and that would get me more tips. Ruth who fired me because she had promised another girl she would be hired as soon as she got out of the hospital. Ruth who assured me she’d call if a slot open because I had really improved. Ruth who didn’t call so I found a job in an Irish pub and that’s a whole other story entirely.

“I knew Ruth,” I said. “She trained me.”

“Tough, right?”

“I learned a lot.”

Ruth would have been in her 80s, probably 90s. I imagined she’d still be alive. I didn’t ask. The waitress didn’t say. The teenage boy held his pencil still above the check pad.

“I’m better at math, for one thing,” she said.

We all laughed except for the boy who was looking over his shoulder, probably at the rest of his station quickly sliding into unattended mayhem.

“I loved working here,” I said then asked our waiter for the hash.

My sister ordered a grilled cheese and onion rings to share. They both came with a smile.

This is a dumb video made by a young English couple. Some may find it/them annoying but it does give a great view of what Bob’s Diner is like.

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Hash with a Side of Poached egg or, in diner lingo, Take a Chance with Dead Eye on the Side.

Hash is very simple, little mor than leftovers from a delicious meal. Most people think of corned beef but I’ve made it with whatever meat remains behind from dinner, including duck and fish.

This is yet another recipe without measurements because if depends on how much meat you start out with and its previous seasonings. So, for instance, if the meat is from the Sunday’s highly herbed roast beef, be careful with adding additional flavors. If there are leftover potatoes and vegetables you’ll have to take their tastes into consideration. By and large, though, you can never go wrong with the addition of a shredded onion.

I will also say that hash is one of those basic, life saving recipes everyone should know and feel confident in flying blind into the skillet. It is quick and thrifty and appreciated by discerning people.

Thus:

Chop the leftover meat up fine–a food processor is great for this. Scrape the meat into a bowl. Mince any available potatoes or vegetables. A medium-size shredded onion is always nice. Mix everything together until well blended.

Make a basic white sauce (2 tablespoons melted butter and flour, stir, add 1 cup warm milk, stir until thicken). Pour it into the meat mixture and stir well to make sure the mixture is bound together.

Heat a cast iron or heavy skillet over a high medium flame. Swirl in enough vegetable oil to slick the bottom. Pam is good, too. Dump the meat into the skillet and press evenly across the surface with the back of a spatula. Lower the flame to medium. Let it cook for about 15 minutes or until a crust forms on the bottom. Carefully flip the meat over to the other side. Some people can do this all in one piece. I always end up doing it in sections. The important thing is to turn the hash no matter how you end up accomplishing it. Lower the flame and cook for an additional 15 minutes.

At this point you have a personal decision to make. You can bring a pot of water to boil, add a splash of vinegar, swirl the water a little and slide an egg or two into the water to make the classic poached egg. Or you an fry an egg. Or you can do what I do most of the time: crack a couple of eggs on top of the hash and cover with a lid. Peek inside every now and then to cook the eggs to your satisfaction.

To serve: slide serving-size portions onto plates. If you’ve cooked the eggs over the hash, lift the hash carefully with an egg or two. If you have poached or fried the eggs, place them on top.