Toby Goodshank Original Art 2025

Life with Chicken and Broccoli

Category: diner

  • Diner Review: Goshen Plaza Diner – Goshen, NY

    Diner Review: Goshen Plaza Diner – Goshen, NY

    Our second outing to the Goshen Diner, which is actually the Goshen Plaza Diner even though it’s not in a plaza. Maybe that was the hopeful dream of its first proprietor—an empire of storefronts that never came to fruition. Our first trip here followed a demoralizing Frozen Ropes Baseball Tournament, where dismayed parents plotted a revolt against the head coach.

    This time it was just the three of us, reflecting on today’s game in the same tournament, which was going much better. By chance, we ended up at the same table. The booth on the left fit the table exactly, while the booth on the right stretched awkwardly far, as if built for a missing fourth diner. I sat there the first time, hunched sideways over my plate. That odd design, along with the faux wooden panel above us decorated with an American flag and perched eagle, gave the place its peculiar charm.

    The menu was classic diner fare with extras, the kind of list that makes you think of Pee-wee telling Dotty, “It’s a thing you wouldn’t understand… a thing you couldn’t understand.” Prices ran two or three dollars cheaper than other diners we’ve visited lately, which likely explained why the place was hopping on a Saturday night. We were surrounded by a rush of senior citizens, a kind of corralling of prescription-powered, hungry elderly looking to stretch their social security checks.

    Our waiter, a young man with a sunny attitude, seemed half-present and half already imagining a future where he’d escaped diner monotony. Still, he was attentive enough.

    I briefly stressed over some of the more unusual menu items but settled on my old reliable: the Farmer’s Omelet—yellow American cheese, veggies, bacon, sausage chunks, rye toast, coleslaw, home fries, and a decaf coffee.

    The service dragged with the crowd, and hunger set us on edge. Then, like a leprechaun popping out of a rainbow’s backside, our server appeared with the food. A few sides were missing, but my omelet and potatoes were excellent—flavorful enough to be memorable despite how often I order them.

    Across the table, my wife faced a crisis. No white toast. She always starts with toast dipped in over-easy eggs, and its absence forced her onto the pancakes instead. The anger monkeys were on her back, throwing things, and we were about to get hit. The fuse was short before all hell broke loose. I buried myself in my plate, silently praying the bread would appear. Fortunately, it arrived in time, and peace was restored.

    In the end, the experience was pleasant. We ate, we talked baseball, and we absorbed the diner’s rhythms. At six o’clock the place was packed; by seven it had emptied to only a few tables. The turnover was so fast it was almost invisible—efficient, seamless, like the diner itself. As we left, we noticed they were voted Best Diner in 2023 and 2024, and if they keep the coffee hot and the toast coming, I don’t see anyone stealing that crown.

    Final Verdict 7.55/10

  • Diner Review: DinerLuxe – New Milford, CT

    Diner Review: DinerLuxe – New Milford, CT

    “I’m back, baby!” Frank Costanza yells as he returns to cooking in Seinfeld. That same triumphant energy hit me walking into DinerLuxe in New Milford, Connecticut. After being closed for quite some time, it’s finally reopened under its original management and owners. Think of it like the Enchanted Tiki Room in Florida, when Disney scrapped the “new management” gimmick and brought back the beloved classic. Some things are just better the way they were.

    DinerLuxe is what I’d call a “Designer Diner,” a place intentionally built to be a monument to the great American diner. Unlike most diners, which can be rehabbed buildings or converted train cars, this one was purpose-built to deliver that nostalgic East Coast diner experience. It was born to be what the sign reads outside: “An American Classic.”

    And what does that mean exactly? The diner defies all nods to history and convention in every way. The architecture is pure American teenager defiance to old-world structure, with loud vibrant colors, a mismatch of building materials, and the regal majesty of silver and chrome accents. It also means we want to eat whatever we want, whenever we want. Breakfast at dinner? Of course. That’s the whole point. We didn’t come to this country to be told what meal goes with what time of day. “We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.”

    From the moment we sat down, the vibe was right. Our server, Megan, was just a genuinely happy human being. Her energy made everything better. It made the black coffee sweeter, the syrup flow smoother, added an extra crisp to the bacon, and almost made my brown eyes blue. Special shoutout to the food runner too. She brought an added touch of professionalism and care that really elevated the experience.

    We were seated in a cozy booth. The cushion still had life in it, giving my backside just the right amount of support. I ordered the Farmer’s Omelet with home fries, rye toast, and a side of coleslaw. The coffee cups were small, which meant frequent refills, always delivered promptly with green-handled pots that seemed to appear exactly when you needed them.

    The plate for the omelet was perfectly sized. No separate plate for toast, no awkward overcrowding. You don’t always notice good design when it’s done right, but you definitely feel it. The ratio of home fries to omelet was spot on. I’m convinced they used the golden ratio or Fibonacci sequence to portion it all out. The omelet was perfectly cooked, with bacon bits that brought the ideal combination of salt, fat, and texture.  The coleslaw was another hit, with beautifully shredded cabbage and just the right amount of dressing, hitting that Goldilocks zone.

    The home fries had a beautiful griddle sear, crispy on the outside and tender inside. The rye toast had a rich golden brush of butter and was cooked just right, not dry or underdone. They didn’t have the usual suspects like Frank’s RedHot or Tabasco, but I appreciated the notch above with Cholula, both red and green varieties.

    I also took a bite of my wife’s bacon, egg, and cheese on a plain bagel with fries. It was excellent. Everything came together in harmony, each bite better than the last. My son’s chocolate chip banana pancakes were another standout. Honestly, it made me question my entire pancake history. How have I never had bananas in my pancakes before? What kind of messed up life have I been living?

    We’re already excited to go back and bring more people. We’re even talking about ordering dinner at dinner, so yes, we are officially living on the edge. New Yorkers take their diners seriously, and that point was hilariously underscored when we walked out and saw a black BMW SUV with a vanity plate that simply read “DINER.”

    Please go to DinerLuxe. It grows the economy. It saves lives. As my friend used to say about a girl he was infatuated with, it’s the complete package.

    Final Verdict: 9.25/10

  • Diner Review: The Blue Colony Diner – Newtown, CT

    Diner Review: The Blue Colony Diner – Newtown, CT

    Easy on, easy off.

    The Greek families who settled in Newtown, Connecticut weren’t content with just arriving in a new country. They wanted their own colony. A Blue Colony, to pay homage to their Grecian shores. When they were welcomed to the New World, they didn’t simply accept it. Maybe they got mad. Maybe they didn’t understand the language. Maybe they were just being stubborn. Either way, they said, “No problem. We make our own colony.” And so, the Blue Colony was born.

    Their relatives, settling in neighboring towns, followed suit by creating their own color-based colonies. The Red Colony still stands today, born out of friendly rivalry or maybe not-so-friendly fights between the families.

    They even created a crest for the Blue Colony: two majestic lions flanking a shield, proudly displaying the letters B and C. The message was clear. Don’t mess with our colony, Malaka!

    The diner has served us faithfully through the years. As kids, it was our Sunday morning ritual after church. I remember ordering from the kids’ menu; the Rocky Balboa Roast Beef with mashed potatoes, while my brother went with the Lion, a classic roast turkey dinner.

    In high school, the Blue Colony became our late-night landing zone. A place where inebriated or high teenagers scraped together loose change and dollar bills to split coffees and cheesy gravy fries. We would sit there trying to get our heads right before heading home, watching the cast of local characters filter in. Sometimes there would be a fight. Sometimes someone tried to run out on their bill. I earned my own badge of honor the night I got banned after rolling in with a rowdy crew who got into trouble. I didn’t even do anything, but I wore the ban like a badge.

    Fast forward to today, and this place still stands tall. A Newtown landmark since 1973, it is everything you would expect from a classic East Coast diner, full of charm and character.

    At the entrance, a massive display of oversized cookies, pastries, and desserts greets you. The diner is split into a right and left section. I always seem to end up on the left, the side we knew growing up. The right side is either newer or always felt darker. I can’t help but feel like Larry David, wondering if we are being deliberately pushed left. Is this the “ugly” section for undesirables?

    Our party of five was seated in one of the rounded corner booths on the left. Our server was a tall Greek man named Alex who did a great job. Diner staff can always be hit or miss. I feel most places have seasoned servers who carry a heavy life burden or maybe just the wear of so many years holding large plates. Most people are mirrored reflections of your own mood, so I always try to bring a fun, light energy.

    In diners, there are safe bets and there are total gambles. My friend once ordered spaghetti and meatballs at 1:30 in the morning—a clear gamble. He was ruthlessly mocked for it. I stuck with a classic: the Farmer’s Omelet, home fries, rye toast with butter, and a side of coleslaw. Everyone else had breakfast for dinner, except my sister-in-law and son, who went with the can’t-go-wrong turkey triple-decker with fries.

    I like my omelets slightly runny and my home fries with some char, but I never ask for it that way. I have been on a lucky streak lately and enjoy the surprise of seeing what shows up. The most impressive part? The speed. It felt like the cook in the back was racing a stopwatch to see how fast they could crank out five meals. The food arrived quickly and tasted exactly as it should; hearty, satisfying, and consistent with what has kept this place thriving for over 50 years.

    The coleslaw was reliably good, as it always is at a proper diner, each with its own variation. I had a spoonful of the seafood bisque, which came out like molten lava; flavorful, with mysterious but tasty chunks of seafood. I also appreciate that they serve a BIG cup of coffee, one that lasts the whole meal without needing a refill. And to finish, I snagged a few sips of my son’s black and white milkshake, ordered to calm his nerves after a tough baseball game. Everyone was happy and content with their food.

    Now, in midlife, I am glad they forgot about my ban from all those years ago. I can walk in with my head held high, check out the specials, sit among the early-bird diners, and get excited just like my mother used to about the sheer quantity of food at a great value. She always used to say, “I’m going to wrap this up and eat it for lunch tomorrow.”

    Thank you, Blue Colony, for settling these lands so many years ago and doing it your way.

    Final Verdict: 7.25/10

    W/Nostalgia Kicker 8/10

    Still one of the best around. Still doing it right.

  • Diner Review: Laurel Diner – Southbury, CT

    Diner Review: Laurel Diner – Southbury, CT

    Had breakfast this morning at Laurel Diner, a Southbury staple. It’s a local favorite, particularly with the senior crowd  and as someone who’s now officially past the “middle-age hump,” I’m grateful to be in the mix. I was probably 30 years younger than most of the guests, but not quite young enough to be throwing stones or passing judgments.

    Located just off Exit 14, head up the street a bit and it’s tucked on the left side of South Main Street. You’ll almost miss it if you’re not looking, it’s that kind of classic small-town spot. There’s an overflow lot just past the building on the left; I parked there. The whole place gave me a nostalgic hit: when I lived in Woodbury with my Yia Yia (Grandmother), she’d take me to Southbury Foodmart. I’d watch in a bored glee as the elderly gently collided with one another in the parking lot, politely assessing the bumper damage before offering a shrug and going on with their day. “In my day, the bumpers could actually take a bump!”

    Inside, all the 4-tops were taken, so I grabbed a seat at the coffee-bar stools while waiting for my wife. She had to move the car after parking in front of a neighboring business which I’m sure has to fight for its spots with all the traffic going to Laurel’s. As she came in, a couple near the back got up, and we quickly grabbed the freshly vacated table. It’s tight in there, charmingly cramped and while we fit, we had several knee-collisions. I’m 6’4″, and once I sit, I don’t move. My wife, 5’5″ (give or take an inch), kept knocking into me every time she adjusted.

    We both ordered decaf, which was fresh-brewed and served in Laurel’s own classic, local business advertisements coffee mugs that feel like they came straight from a 1978 truck stop in the best possible way.

    Laurel Diner has apparently won awards, I don’t recall the specifics, but I recently saw it featured in a Connecticut Diner Bracket Challenge, and it was holding its own in the final rounds.

    I’ve learned to ask what a diner is known for before I order, and I’m glad I did.   Our server said the homemade hash and the cinnamon raisin toast were house favorites. I went with “The Kiki” special, which included both. My wife stuck with eggs, bacon, and a pancake to share.

    The food came out quickly, not quite “Greek diner with Mexican cooks” fast, but close. Everything was excellent. The homemade corned beef hash was zesty and flavorful, the home fries were seasoned well and crispy, and the cinnamon raisin toast was a treat.  It reminded me of Cinnabon without the frosting; rich, buttery, and just sweet enough. The bacon was solid, better than average diner bacon, but nothing that will haunt my dreams. The pancake we shared dressed in extra butter and syrup was also amazing; light and fluffy. My wife noted her eggs looked more golden with a deeper yellow hue, which led her to guess they might be pasture-raised. Of course, we’re just speculating and don’t know what we’re talking about, but that didn’t stop us from saying it.

    Price Check

    It’s a bit pricier than your average diner, I estimated about 27% higher but for the quality, it felt justified. The portions were generous, the food was excellent, and the vibe was clean and welcoming.  Big note is that they only take cash, which for some reason I didn’t have that much today and felt like a kid again looking through my wallet and wife’s purse to make sure we had enough to pay for our meal.  Luckily we didn’t have to wash the dishes.

    Staff & Space

    The servers were friendly and competent, without the tired diner attitude I can’t stand. The space is snug, and with the heat from the grill and a packed house, we were starting to sweat a little. It’s not the kind of place you linger for hours in but it delivers what it promises: great food, fast, with a little local soul and a gentle whiff of Bengay.

    Final Verdict: 7.75/10

    A little cramped, a little pricey, but totally worth it for the taste, quality, service, and charm. Would I go back? Absolutely!