Diner: Americana Combover

A1 OK DinerIt’s Sunday morning and I am doing my morning routine. Relaxing, listening to jazz – Horace Silver’s Song for my Father, and my kitchen is one huge cardiovascular health nightmare. There are strips of bacon sizzling, home fries in the oven, bread being turned to toast and a pot of strong coffee brewing on the rocket launcher. My flat surely smells like that combination of deliciousness and congestive heart failure which I miss so much.

If my cat were in an apron and beanie shouting diner lingo at the end of a rip line full of order slips, this would be the perfect diner. And maybe a gravelly-voiced waitress with a facial deformity.

Today, however, I am more hell-bent on creating a breakfast as diner authentic as possible. In the world of Eidam, I have found the closest relative to processed American cheese, the only cheese with which to make a true omelet ala greasy spoon. I’ve enlisted the help of Rachel Ray – the chubby man’s Scarlett Johansson – to make home fries and have taken her heart safe advice by adding three cubes of butter to my egg mix.

There are so many pluses to living in Europe. It’s socially liberal, especially about lifestyle choices that involve your body, sex, drugs and alcohol. The architecture is older than your grandmother and the history sometimes doesn’t involve screwing a bunch of natives out of land. Furthermore, there is the open-minded perspective that comes from being exposed to cultures that are not your own for an extended period of time. And there’s an entire world of language to learn. Oh, and then there are women, beer and good public transport, not in any particular order, of course.

However, an American living in Europe relinquishes a slew of minor things that they might see as comforting and domestic. I crave Dill pickles for non-Freudian reasons. At any given time of the night I am prone to looking at Google images of Philadelphia Cheesesteaks, bagels and lox, Nathan’s hotdogs and people wearing sandals and no socks.

Despite my list, these relinquished items are not always gastronomical. For instance, enjoying sports is not the same. Sure, we can watch baseball, hockey and football. But with the time difference, watching a 7 p.m. baseball or hockey game means waking up at 1 a.m. to watch it in the middle of the night. Even if we could watch earlier, there’s no option to walk down the street to a local bar and drink Miller High Lives while bitching about the Phillies’ middle relievers.

Football isn’t enjoyed the same when you watch it on your computer in your kitchen while preparing gulaš. You have to be surrounded by dips, chips, spreads, bad beer and professional adults who devolve into college kids when they put on a jersey and yell at the TV.

I have always hated the Superbowl for a few reasons. First, the Eagles have almost never been in it in my lifetime. Second, there is no word or phrase to describe the ridiculous amount of hype and bullshit that surrounds one usually disappointing, game. And frankly, the Superbowl half time show should involve two post-prime singers Andalusia knife fighting to the death.

Still, I am sure that Monday morning will see my read my favorite news outlet, Facebook, and knowing that the Superbowl probably prompted this morning’s Americana diner experience. At least I won’t have to listen to America’s living wind tunnel, John Madden. I don’t care if he’s involved in the Superbowl at all, it is just a general statement.

I have to go now, I swear the cat just shouted, “Order up! Cheese, pigs and side of fries!” But would someone please have a cheesesteak for me later today or maybe a good old Reuben with a Dill on the side?

  1. #1 by fredi on February 4, 2013 - 3:36 pm

    I can smell the grease! Fun.

  2. #2 by Andy on February 4, 2013 - 8:18 pm

    Two things:

    1. “Songs for my Father” is a fantastic Sunday morning choice which I have you to thank for my copy.
    2. Just returned home from a Super Bowl oriented “guy’s weekend” that was basically ten adult men sitting around a cabin filled with food stuffs that would make you very jealous (ex: copious amounts of freshly cut beef tenderloin, chili, dips of all kinds, diner-esque breakfasts, etc). We watched Beyonce with the sound off.

    • #3 by Damien Galeone on February 4, 2013 - 8:21 pm

      I am jealous, but I call BS on Beyonce.

  3. #4 by Chris on February 4, 2013 - 11:02 pm

    Couple notes: the Super Bowl has been great recently.. Most of the time it’s a team I hate winning it too. Also.. I’ve visited Europe a couple times now.. And, for me, it is the perfect vacation …can’t stay. You’re a strong man. I can’t live without cheesesteaks (or suitable substitute), or greasy diner food (which oddly enough Canada doesn’t even have diners), air conditioning (this is a big one) and most important my beloved sports. My Flyers and Phillies and Eagles are my relief. I need to have them and everything and surrounds them. All the web sites are no substitute. Great post big brother. Dig it.

    • #5 by Damien Galeone on February 4, 2013 - 11:22 pm

      Thank you, Brother man! You’re absolutely right; the websites are no substitute. Coming back in August is a truly needed tonic. Oh, The Hulmeville in 6.2 months!

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