Foodie on Duty - Kellogg's Diner

Classic diners are known for their burgers, pies, fries and tuna melts. Traditionally, because they’re more into high-volume food than they are into high-end food, it’d be fool to be expecting the quality of Dumont Burger. But the offerings of most tend to be head and shoulders beyond anything McDonald’s could ever hope for. The added bonus of cozying with the G/L stop on Metropolitan and being open 24 hours made Kellogg’s Diner a surefire win. I was shown my seat briskly, but I knew that getting service on that incredibly busy Sunday morning would be a bit of a hassle.
Menus come spiral-bound, which is indicative of the dizzying array of items to choose from. It proves to be a boon for the bored regulars and a curse for the indecisive. In addition to classic diner staples like Reuben sandwiches and over a dozen different kinds of omelets, there’s also a Mediterranean, Greek and Italian specialties, and a Treasures of the Sea section. It’s pretty swell to have the option to choose between mozzarella sticks, chicken fingers and stuffed grape leaves.
My stomach can only accommodate so much food, so I restricted my order to the ½ pound bison beefburger, chicken gyro sandwich platter, blueberry pie, chocolate mousse cake and carrot cake. I really wanted to try the broiled Roumanian steak or their homemade Challah French toast, but I felt it was my duty to at least include burgers, pies and fries somewhere in my order. Let it be known that the burgers don’t come with fries, lettuce or tomatoes if you don’t upgrade them to “deluxe” and that any sort of condiments outside of a tiny plastic cup of coleslaw will cost you. I decided to spring for the extra and asked for tomato and onion on my burger.
My ½-pound bison beefburger was served well-done. But it came without the company of its usual sidekicks. There was a plain patty ’o meat on a bun. The tomatoes, lettuce and onions hadn’t arrived to the scene, leaving my burger looking sad and lonely on the plate. Perhaps they were just too cool to party with the coleslaw. The griddled buns were slightly burnt, but at least they carried evidence that they had once felt the loving heat of a hot grill. My advice is for the diner to come on a weekday when the pace is slower, for any additional sides are to be forgotten during the Sunday lunch rush.
Bison, as far as I can tell, carries no huge discernable difference in taste to its cousin the cow. I wasn’t expecting for it to, but you know that my stomach’s a sucker for novelty, so the added 30 cents wasn’t a huge deal. What had turned out to be a huge deal, however, was that hockey puck of a patty. Being well-done, it wasn’t exactly the juiciest patty on the block. Nor did it carry a punch of bison-licious flavor. And the meat had been ground just a shade too finely, resulting in something quite dense, slightly tough and chewy. In that aspect, a much thinner patty like the ones I’d find at McDonald’s would have made a little more sense. The thickness had only further advertised all its, I’m-not-worthy-of-burgerdom, traits. Loads of ketchup and coleslaw were its only playmates.
I had much better luck with the chicken gyro sandwich platter. After such a ho-hum experience with the American bison, I couldn’t help but grade the chicken with a big, fat smiley face. Was it the best chicken gyro in the world? Not by any stretch of the imagination. It was, however, more than decent, and definitely diner-worthy.

All of my bison burger’s missing friends – lettuce, onion and tomato – were dog piled atop a few slices of chicken gyro and wrapped in the warm hug of a soft, tender pita. A generous dollop of garlicky Tzatziki sauce smothered the sandwich with love. The gyro wasn’t juicy, but it was pretty hot and tasty, and not at all tough or unnecessarily defensive like the sad burger I had abandoned after 3 bites. The fries were golden, crisp, medium-cut fingers with just the lightest kiss of MSG. They were damn delicious and were fine with or without ketchup.

As for the desserts, I don’t know what to be sadder over – the blueberry pie or the carrot cake. I’ll make the details short and brief. The blueberry pie was filled with a cold, gelatinous goop of berry-flavored filling that carried the strangest aftertaste of Dimetapp. On the plus side, it wasn’t cloyingly sweet and had a pretty okay crust. The carrot cake was an oily, desiccated, cinnamon-scented sponge frosted with faux whipped cream. There was no cream cheese frosting in sight. The chocolate mousse cake was worlds better. Dense, smooth and creamy. A deep, dark chocolate flavor sitting atop a thin layer of chocolate cake. Gold stars. As for the pie and carrot cake, let us never speak of them again. Let us only hope that they were but unfortunate accidents that were bound to occur on a busy Sunday morning when one can’t afford to pay them much – if any – attention.
Kellogg’s Diner isn’t exactly 4-star food, but its location, hours and insane variety of menu items will keep me coming back. Who knows? Next time I might get lucky.
518 Metropolitan Ave.
718-782-4502