Blueplate, Portland OR.

One of the places I desperately wanted to go while we were in Portland was Blueplate in downtown. The problem was that its normal hours weren't going to coincide with when were available to go eat. The Diner Gods smiled on us and made the weekend we were there the first weekend Blueplate was open for dinner service.



I knew it was a small place and I actually thought we might need reservations. It was only the second night of dinner service--I thought that was a big deal--but when we walked in things were very low-key. Then I remembered that this is Portland and Portland is a laid-back town. It was silly to think we would need reservations.

There were a few tables occupied and the counter was completely open. Antoinette and I took seats at the counter. Antoinette appreciated that each had its own step-stool to get up onto the seats. My wife is short.




It's almost a gimmick the way things are cooked at Blueplate. It's a tiny place without an actual kitchen. It's all done on this tiny cook top (supplemented by electric griddles during peak times). Out of necessity, the menu is about as small as the restaurant. It's all modern gourmet takes on classic comfort food: things like shepherds pie, sliders and meatloaf.

The special that night was a chicken and waffle sandwich.

Okay, this is going to sound just a little snobby but--I'm from LA, trick! Chicken and waffles is kind of played out, but I wanted to give it a shot.




Okay, this sandwich was bomb. Yep, I called it BOMB! It actually worked as a sandwich. I assumed it was going to be like a pancake sandwich which is never actually a sandwich. This had two savory waffles holding a delicious piece of chicken breast, lightly battered and fried--it could not have worked if it had been the least bit greasy--with shredded apple and a honey mustard sauce. Bomb, right?
The sandwich and the candied carrot side were phenomenal tasting.




Blueplate is known for its meatloaf so Antoinette had to order that. If she hadn't, I would have had to order that to take back to the hotel for later. Now, for the dinner that night, they were only serving the meatloaf sandwich as they didn't have any gravy. Antoinette didn't mind, she just wanted mashed potatoes and meatloaf. The meatloaf was very moist and delicious, and the potatoes were creamy and perfectly seasoned.



Along with the delicious food, Blueplate serves up homemade sodas and milkshakes. I ordered the R.P. McMurphy, named for Jack Nicholson's character in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.




I have a deep love for butterscotch and when you add to that some honey roasted peanuts and toffee covered cashews, it becomes heavenly.


We talked with the owner--who was also our cook--after we finished eating. We asked him to recommend some other places to eat in town. He said where he goes for breakfast was a little place called Byways Cafe. A review of this place is coming soon.


Blueplate completely lived up to my expectations. I do wish we had been able to make it there during the day, I would have loved to see it at the height of business at lunch. A full counter and tables I think would have made the atmosphere really pop. The next time we are in Portland, we'll make that happen.

Food: Great.
Price: $10-ish.
Service: Great.
Pie: Sadly, no.

Blueplate

308 SW Washington St
Portland, OR 97204
(503) 295-2583

Richie's "Diner"- The word doesn't mean what you think it means.

This place is too shiny, and not East Coast Diner shiny, like dads with sandals and socks and daughters with low-rise jeans shiny. It's suburb shiny. Calling it Richie's Diner makes my teeth ache. There are hints there that it used to be something special, that somewhere there might be an original Richie's that doesn't grate on my sensibilities. [And apparently there is- http://www.richiesdiner.com/ two locations in northern California where the pictures seem a bit more faux-authentic. Oddly the website does not list the location I went to in Rancho Cucamonga.]


It was a busy weekend night when we strode in, might have even been the opening weekend for Richie's here. There was that kind of ridiculous energy in the air; the kind you might find at a Wal-Mart opening or a Gottschalk's sale. We put our names on the list and waited.

And we waited in the cramped lobby where they teased us with an apple cider dispenser and tiny Dixie cups, only to find no unused cups and an empty jug of cider.

Richie's also sells salt water taffy by the sack. Sure, why not. Do what you gotta Richie's.

It became quite clear after half an hour or so that we had been skipped on the list. We approached the frazzled man at the counter. When he realized that he had skipped us, he tried to say he had called our names, but the looks on our faces and his realization that we had never been more than ten feet from the counter made him quickly abandon that tactic.

Normally, with even that much time invested, I would have hit the bricks, but Ritchie's promised me something. On their crowded front counter were an assortment of unique sodas, including my old favorite, Green River Soda. Part of my childhood all the way up to high school, the Green River Soda was MY drink. I haven't had a Green River, especially from the bottle, in a long time. Too long, old friend. I had to stay.



Finally, we were taken to a table through the generic, could be a Chilis, could be a Macaroni Grill, could be the third circle of hell, dining room.



Looking over the menu, we found the traditional American favorites with only the occasional TGIFriday's influence.

One of us ordered the open faced meatloaf sandwich, substituting french fries for mashed potatoes. The other ordered the pot roast sandwich. We had been waiting so long and were so hungry, I actually forgot to take a picture until we were nearly done. Neither of these meals were impressive, or reall all that good. Plain and generic tasting. And please note; they messed up and gave us both french fries.



But oh sweet Venus, my green bottle love came to me and I did drink her up. Sugary syrup with tiny champagne bubbles. Sigh, what dreams may come.



We waited a very long time for our check, so long we decided to ask for it. What a foolhardy move that proved to be. Our waiter had forgotten to print it out. We could have walked out and there would have been no evidence except for our left over food stuffs...Yes, I did take the Green River bottle with me.

I cannot recommend Richie's Diner because I won't recommend any chain restaurant to anyone for a meal. You can call it a "diner" all you want Richie, but that don't make it right. And do not get me started on what the hell "Real American" means.

Food: Meh!
Service: Feh!
Price: Gah!
Pie: Nah!... okay they had some overpriced desserts with pie-like stuff.

Victoria Gardens
8039 Monet Ave
Rancho Cucamonga, CA 91739

Corky's, Where Life Goes On

UPDATED 5/30! Check out the end.



Corky's is a unique place. Off the 210 out in the sticks of Rancho Cucamonga, it is a locally owned and newly opened 24-hour diner. I've been to Corky's several times now: breakfast and dinner and late night hungry time. According to a waitress I spoke to, the owner saw the need for a good home cooking place to compete with Denny's.

Corky's has a lot going for it. Convenient location... I mean relatively. Clearly not convenient if you live in Santa Monica or...well anywhere other than Rancho Cucamonga. It is right off the 210 though, so on your way to or back from Vegas, it would be right there. It has wonderful homey decor. It looks like what you wish your grandmother's house looked like, instead of a pine box in the ground...or maybe that's just me. They bake their cookies and pie right there. It has just one problem: the food is pretty, but taste-wise can only be described as "meh."

Most recently, I had the Chicken and Dumplings, as it was the one item Diner Companion Antoinette recommended from her previous time there. She said after she sent it back the first time because of the still frozen dumplings, and it came back with unfrozen dumplings, it was the best thing she had had there. Well, I didn't have that problem because no dumplings were to be found at all in mine. I had the Chicken and Nothlings. The mashed potatoes were homemade and the brown gravy was pretty decent, though

.

Antoinette got the Pea Soup in a bread bowl. Some people can't stand pea soup, sometimes because of the "Exorcist," sometimes because it's kind of gross in theory. It's peas...mushed up...and made soupy. We both appreciated that that they included the scooped out piece of bread as a "sopper" and the soup itself wasn't half bad.

So overall this trip was mediocre at best. I really wanted some dumplings with my chicken. That would have been really nice.

A busy Sunday morning found us again at Corky's counter for breakfast. Sitting there, we were able to see some of the whirling dancing of the waitresses. A half dozen waitresses were busy shuffling around orders, slathering butter on toast, TWICE,once before it goes in the toaster and once after.

I wasn't all that hungry, so I ordered the oatmeal.




That's a lot of good fixings for oatmeal, which is great because you definitely need them; the oatmeal was mushy and bland.

Corky's was so busy that morning that food began to pile up at the kitchen window. Without heat lamps, the food just sat there cooling down. I did get to hear one choice gem from one waitress to the other:
Waitress 1 to pregnant waitress: How are you holding up? I was so horny when I was pregnant.

Antoinette got the eggs breakfast, the home fries were overly salty. The eggs were adequate.

On our first trip there, I ordered the Meat Loaf Sandwich. The meatloaf was too moist and tasted like meaty water. It also had green peppers, which overpowered the dish entirely.

The rest of the food was, well..... "meh."

The one saving grace for Corky's is their pie.

Apple pie, thin crust and packed full of apples that still taste like apples and not apple pie filling.



Eggnog Cream Pie. I love eggnog. Even without booze, I love eggnog. Now put it in pie form? That is good eating. I don't give a damn if it's near Christmas or not. I am firmly Pro-Eggnog.

Chocolate cream pie that had a smooth chocolate flavor with the only flaw being a rather bland crust that tasted like a store bought frozen one.


German chocolate cream pie that was nearly s good as House of Pies. And pumpkin pie that just punched your mom's pumpkin pie in the face.



I cannot, in good faith, recommend Corky's for anything other than these delicious pies. The food looks so good. It's presented beautifully, but it just fails to deliver on taste.

Corky's Bakery and Kitchen

6403 Haven Ave, Alta Loma, CA

(909) 941-8655


UPDATE-

A few weeks ago I received a very nice email from Mike, the owner of Corky's. He apologized that we hadn't been completely satisfied with our food and asked us if we would come back and give them another try. Trusted Official #1 Diner Companion, Antoinette, and I went back there last week.


The verdict?

The food was GOOD!



I had the Polish Sausage Skillet and it was freakin' delicious. Best way to describe it was "fresh."


Antoinette had the tuna melt on wheat, which was also good.

The best thing though, and I knew it would be, the new Mocha Toffee Swirl Cream Pie. Go call your mom and tell her that everything she's ever done for you has mattered not one goddamn bit because she never made you this pie. This pie is simply amazing.

So now I'll say, enthusiastically: try out Corky's.

On the Road: Spokane's Diners Pt. 5- Hogan's. Nostalgia and broken glasses.

One of the first questions I asked when I found out we'd be going to my old neighborhood in Spokane was if Hogan's was still open. Hogan's was the closest thing to a Peach Pit or The Max my high school friends and I had. Well, that's not true; we hung out more at Senor Froggy's and Baskin Robbins, but that was because half of us worked at one of those places. Hogan's was special, though. It was our kitsch.

Various groupings of us would head there after school on Friday and get Green River sodas and an order of french fries with a side of hollandaise sauce. And without fail, every time we were there, we'd hear the shattering of a glass. Someone in the back had butter fingers. Jon said that even the last time he was there a few months prior, a glass had broken. Could the streak still be alive?


Bill, Jon and I went to the grand old spot in the South Hill Shopping Center, and for me the only things there that hadn't changed were Hogan's and 2nd Look Books, where Bill worked in high school. Everything had remodeled or moved out or closed down.


We sat down and I immediately asked our young, yet familiar looking* waitress if they still served Green River soda. She had no idea what I was talking about. I then spontaneously grew a three foot long beard that tapered off to a point at the end. One of the bus boys happened by at that moment and I asked him if he remembered Green River. He said that he did and that Hogan's had stopped serving it years ago. My beard then shrunk down to a tasteful Sam Elliot style mustache.

When our waitress came by again, I tried to sound as creepy as possible. "This is weird but you look really familiar. Did you have an older sister who went to Ferris [High School]?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, what was her name?"
"Shelby blah blah."
Jon, Bill and I looked at each other. No bell's rung.
"Yeah. That's not familiar at all. Sorry for sounding creepy."
"Oh no problem!"

Jon ordered the biscuits and gravy. This kid must be going through his own B&G phase. The plate was smothered with greasy goodness.



I ordered the meat loaf sandwich because I was hankering for some brown gravy. The gravy was thick but edged on too salty, but the meat loaf was perfectly moist. I asked for french fries instead of mashed potatoes, as mashed potatoes are a side dish I'm never in the mood for.



Yes, the keen the observer will note, those are mashed potatoes on my plate and not french fries. When our waitress realized the mistake, she brought out a jumbo basket of fries. We also inquired if we could get Hollandaise sauce for our fries. It was missing from the menu, but the waitress had no problem bringing us out a little dish. You can tell from the picture that it wasn't of the highest quality, but it was still good enough to assuage our sense of nostalgia.



The real star of the meal was Bill's order of the "Big Bopper." It's a load of food. Three pieces of toast (Why three? Simple math. Three is better than two), hash browns (unfortunately not the Spokane-style I was hoping for), two eggs and some bacon. Toss a couple of pancakes on there and you get...well...a LOAD of food.



It was fun being in this old haunt again. Oddly, a lot of the places that held significance for me in Spokane aren't around anymore. The Denny's on Sprague is now some Mongolian Grill. The place where we had dinner before prom has burned down. It was good to see old Horace Hogan depicted on the interior wall, greeting me with a burger.



There was only one disappointment during this little trip down memory lane: Nobody dropped a glass.

Food: Good
Price: 6-9
Service: Friendly.
Pie: Yes.


2977 E 29TH Ave,
Spokane, WA 99223-4811
Tel: (509) 535-7567


This bring us to the end of the Spokane portion of the "On the Road" journey. I'm making a quick sojourn back to Los Angeles to review a place and then I'll continue with my Northwest reviews. Look for Wenatchee Washington's Prospector Pies soon.

Dolores. "We never clos"

“You just go to diners?” the stranger at the party asked.
“Pretty much,” I replied. “I write reviews. Y’know, for the internets.”
“Have you been to Dolores? It’s awful!”

When someone tells me a place is awful, this is supposed put me off that place. Tell me that Mexican place on Sunset next to the barbershop is ‘for shit’, I’m not going to go—but tell me a diner is awful. It’s my job* to find out for myself.

Then the stranger added.
“Every waitress there is over 70.”

Is it creepy that it was THAT claim that sold me on HAVING to go as soon as possible to this place? Since Paul was present, I roped him into yet another diner adventure while he’d probably much rather be sleeping.

Dolores is on Santa Monica Blvd in that odd wasteland between West Hollywood and Santa Monica, the beachy place. I went through a Nuart theater phase and am shocked that I never ventured the simple four or so blocks west to the restaurant.



Pulling up to Dolores, I was instantly struck by the decrepit sign that towered above the place. This to me was a good (forgive me for saying) sign. The sign was so weathered I could believe no seventy year old waitress had been up there to spruce it up.




For this pic I offer special thanks to: http://www.latimemachines.com/new_page_3.htm

Walking inside I instantly fell in love. The homey décor mixes an odd sense of the 1970s with brown and golds with the pastels of the early 80s. After I instantly fell in love, I also instantly knew I had been lied to. Our greeter might have been rocking an outfit way too young for her but she was not a near octogenarian. We briefly breezed past display case full of giant pastries and muffins on our way to the booth. This booth gave us a great view of the counter and the nearby dessert cabinet. Delicious looking pies and cakes were found inside. Delicious cakes my friends! You know cakes aren’t my thing but these looked delicious.

The menu at Dolores is concise and simple. The largest extravagance I found is the cheese blintzes. Oddly, where you usually find a collection of Mexican dishes on an LA diner menu, Dolores has Italian choices. That’s how old school this place is.

Our waitress came by quickly and sweetly put up with my silly questions.

“What’s a ‘Cherry Lime Ricky’”
“It’s like a Shirley Temple. It’s really sweet.”
“What do you recommend?”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“…Breakfast.”
“Our omelets are good.”
“Do those come with bread? Like a muffin?”
“Yeah.”
“If I get the muffin, is it one of those giant muffins in the display case?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get that!”

I ordered the omelet with Parmesan cheese and Italian sausage. Paul ordered the eggs and bacon with a cinnamon roll. From my seat, I could lean back and stare longingly at the dessert case. Paul left to pee, which gave me more desert ogling time. He returned shortly and informed me of the old timey baseball game machine by the bathrooms.



By then, our food come out bursting out of the kitchen. The omelet was a little light on the Parmesan cheese but the Italian sausage was tasty. The egg of the omelet was perfect--not wet or sloppy but cooked evenly throughout. Unfortunately, Paul found his eggs runny, but liked the amount of bacon they gave him. The potatoes were thinly sliced and greasy. They did maintain a good potato flavor, though.



Our muffin and cinnamon bun were in fact-- HUGE. Too big, in my opinion. My blueberry muffin was too much like an oddly shaped piece of cake. The raisins in the cinnamon bun seemed as big as prunes. Paul and I working together couldn’t finish it. I did appreciate that the butter pats that they served had been warmed. For once, I could actually spread butter on my bread.




I had warned our waitress that I may indeed still order pie even with the muffin and cinnamon roll, so be sure to drop by before bringing the check. And like every other time that I have made this request, the waitress brought the check without stopping by. I had to get her attention to order a slice of apple to go. She then of course had to pick up our check and redo the whole thing. She did give me the largest slice of pie from the case though. That was sweet of her.

Later that evening I enjoyed the pie. The crust really weirded me out, I must say. It was perfect, I am not talking about in terms of taste but structurally perfect. Like this pie had come out of God’s own pie pan. Flavor-wise it was a perfectly good slice of apple pie.





Price: $6-$14
Food: Good
Service: Very Good
Pie: Creams and Fruits.


11407 Santa Monica Blvd- At Purdue Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90025
310 477-1061


(*yes, this isn’t my job job-type job, but it should be.)

UPDATE-Feb 2009!

Dolores recently got a new owner. He invited me back to try out the new menu.
#1DC Antoinette and I took him up on the offer a few weekends ago.

There’s definitely a new coat of fancy on Delores. It has shifted away from the roughshod style that made it endearing. That’s no sin, just a little sad if you like the rundown aesthetic.

Being there for dinner, we decided upon classic dinner entrees. Antoinette ordered the Turkey Dinner and I ordered the Meatloaf.

We were both so incredibly impressed. The food was amazing. The turkey was nice and juicy thick cuts, the stuffing was made in a delicious chicken stock that gave it a uniquely home cooked taste. The meatloaf rivaled my mother's in its flavor and presentation. Rarely do you find the melted cheese in the center of the loaf. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had it anywhere other than at my mom’s house.

The corn bread was the best we had ever tasted. Amazingly soft and sweet, bordering on cake consistency, but staying safely within the bread family.

The new owner is definitely trying new things. He and his staff are exploring and innovating the standbys, and from what I can tell, it is successful. These things do take Delores away from its roots, but sometimes it's time to move on. So if you are looking for that old LA classic feeling, you can probably skip Delores now, but if you want a straight-up good dinner, you should definitely check out Delores. They still never clos.