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| - I appreciate the charm of local diners, but with my picky palate, it's going to take more than the minimalist, dive-y approach to win this stomach over. Service is brisk and polite, with a waitress ready to top off your coffee before you can muster your last gulp. Food comes quickly, with a smile, as you gaze onto the barren, yet bustling intersection of 59th & Northern. It's almost like having breakfast in someone's home, and in my head I imagined some charming, old time music that would be fitting for Parsons' antiquated coziness.
In my head, the record skipped once I saw the food. Something so simple as a BLT should never ever be a problem, but they managed to thoroughly burn my bacon, leaving it almost blackened and rock hard. As I bit into it desperately, water from freshly washed lettuce trickled on to my plate.
But with hunger as the best spice, I did not give up so easily as I sampled my friend's chili cheese omelet. Just canned chili on eggs, with not the slightest pretense of effort. No signature touch. No sort of unique taste to call their own. I'm not asking for anything gourmet, but merely just a step above something I would neglectfully concoct in my own kitchen while struggling with a hangover. I like simple diner food. I don't like diner food that refuses to try.
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