What exactly makes a diner a diner? The original sense of the word described a restaurant that was movable. The first lunch wagons in the Northeast (precursors by 100-plus years of the current food truck phenomenon) were pulled by horses to wherever business might be good. As they became popular and grew larger, they were trucked from the factories that made them either whole or in pieces. While not as mobile as a lunch wagon, one of these prefab eateries could be hoisted off its plot and moved to a new location where business might be better.
It all began with a sandwich wagon operated by Walter Scott and pulled by his horse, Patient Dick, outside the offices of the Providence Journal starting in 1872. Scott served sliced rooster sandwiches, ham sandwiches, boiled eggs, and pie, as well as a novelty he christened the “chewed sandwich,” made of cutting board scraps. There is no sure way of knowing, but Scott’s food, if crude, may not have been all that bad. He baked his own bread and pies and once boasted that no one ever complained about his fowl sandwiches.
Worcester Dining Car Company Diner #812, manufactured in 1948.
As for ambience, however, diners always have been a walk on the wild side. Many of the early lunch wagons were made from beat-up and abandoned trolley cars and were known for the shady clientele they attracted. In the teens, a manufacturer named Patrick J. “Pop” Tierney went a long way toward improving their social standing by making them from scratch rather than from decrepit trolleys and, more important, introducing indoor toilets; Jerry O’Mahoney of Bayonne, New Jersey, manufactured diners that featured stained glass windows emblazoned with the motto Pure Food, Cleanliness, Quick Service, and Popular Prices. While by no means upper crust, diners were aiming to attract ladies and gentlemen. The term diner came into use in the 1920s because by this point, the moveable eatery had evolved from makeshift freight wagon to something that resembled a modern railroad dining car.
During the 1930s, when Chrysler Corporation introduced its teardrop-shaped “Airflow” cars and designers were infatuated with anything that looked windswept, diner companies streamlined their product and incorporated such modernistic material as glass bricks, stainless steel, and multicolored Formica. By 1950, there were an estimated 6000 of them in America. The diner as most of us know it developed an alluring personality midcentury as partner to the burgeoning network of American highways. In America of the 1940s and 1950s, the open-all-night diner became a prime symbol of a nation always on the move—an oasis on the long road, a place where roving sharpies shoot the breeze with fallen angels, and where gearjammers lay over for a mug of “forty-weight” coffee to fuel them on their way. Jack Kerouac began his novel Visions of Cody with a lyrically ambivalent description of an old diner with a smell that is “curiously the hungriest in America—it is FOODY instead of just spicy, or—it’s like dishwater soap just washed a pan of hamburg—nameless— memoried—sincere—makes the guts of men curl in October.”
The look of diners has evolved tremendously over the years, to the point that many restaurants that call themselves diners—located in strip malls or ordinary storefronts—bear no resemblance to a lunch wagon, a trolley, or a speeding railroad car. Nor do they necessarily look like any of the huge multi-room stone-encrusted Colonial and Mediterranean diners that appeared from the mid- to late twentieth century. So what is it, beyond architectural cues, that makes a place feel like a diner? First of all, there’s the smell: a swirl of savory gravy and strong coffee and bacon sizzling on the grill along with oniony hash browns. A diner almost certainly has a counter and stools, and probably booths, too. Chances are good it is open early for breakfast and may serve the proverbial Breakfast Any Time. A place that calls itself a diner will not take reservations or have any sort of formal dress code. It will not be a romantic hideaway; it will be well-lit and family-friendly. Customers are always asked if they want coffee. While many people go to late-night diners to schmooze and palaver, you also can count on a diner to be efficient if you’re in a rush: order taken right away, check delivered with the meal.
Despite their conventional cast of eccentric characters and an early reputation as purveyors of unsavory mystery meat, diners over the years have earned a reputation as places that dish out honest food at affordable prices. Some of this has to do with the fact that, at least in the classic smaller ones, so much of what is served is cooked and assembled before your eyes, at the grill behind the counter, where the chef can’t pull a fast one and substitute shoelaces for spaghetti and a shoe sole for your veal cutlet. But there is also something about the aesthetics of classic diner fare that makes people want to trust it. Pot roast, pork chops, apple pie a la mode: nothing coy or pretentious about these blue-collar basics.