“Meet me at the greasy spoon”, my old man would say on my answering machine. He meant the Gold Star Cafe.
Like many of us who grew up in Worcester each family had their favorite diner to whom they ‘belonged’, like a church.
The Blue Bell, The Green Island, the Boulevard, the Kenmore, the Corner Lunch, the Gold Star, Lucky’s and Lou Roc’s; the list goes on.
Small in scale, intimate in tone, a diner is a little like a boat. There is nothing superfluous, every tool serves a purpose.
Luxury thrown over board in favor of cleanliness and speed.
Simple, quick, and cheap meals meant for working men & women. Coffee flows hot and often. The mugs were sturdy and the utensils made of tin.
