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Ned wasn't all that impressed with his hamburger, which arrived in a shiny metal basket sided with what we agreed were fabulous onion rings. "It's OK," he said of the burger. "Nothing extraordinary." Perhaps it was the surroundings that made him expect an extraordinary hamburger. Or maybe it was nostalgia: Many of the eight burger variations are named for the trains that used to rumble in and out of Union Station.
At lunch on the other occasion, our server encouraged Martha to order that day's special. I'm happy to report that the thick slab of meatloaf with mashed potatoes and brown gravy lived up to our high expectations.
I felt daring and ordered a Monte Cristo sandwich (called a Monte Christo here), which rarely shows up on a diner menu these days and is usually some half-realized variation of the real thing. But the Harvey House version is the classic thick, soft sandwich made with thinly sliced turkey, ham and Swiss cheese, dipped in egg batter and grilled. Richard ordered a soup-and-salad combo; he loved the tomato-basil soup but was, like me on that previous visit, underwhelmed by the salad. Fussy Kelly was easy to please for a change, ordering pancakes, eggs and bacon, which are served all day.
Richard couldn't resist a big ol' wedge of coconut-cream pie — a product of Golden Boy Bakeries, which supplies most of the diners in town. It was great, as Golden Boy pies always are.
"You like those pies?" Crooks asked me later.
Love 'em. They're not so good for my figure, but after eating diner food, I always keep my body unrevealed.