Three Diners in Three Days

Today's Day O' Labor was the third in a three-day breakfast binge. The father-figure was in town, and we went diner-hunting. (And I've ran of out hypens--of dashes, however, I have plenty.) In the spirit of competition, I ate almost the same plate at all three aluminumly sided establishments. But first, the purveyors in question:

-Kelly's Diner, in Ball Square, Somerville
-Deluxe Town Diner, in Watertown
-Rosebud's, in Davis Square

The plate: Two eggs, two pancakes, sausage/bacon, home fries, toast, bottomless coffee.

All three were exceptional. All three, eaten on subsequent mornings, necessitate a weeklong detox of cold cereal and valencia orange juice. But there were differences. And like babies, though all bundles of joy and miracles of nature and what have you, some are cuter than others.

The waitress*: KsD - Red hair, youthful (in comparision to the lifers working the counter), efficient though not overly chatty. Coffee Refill Score: 6.5

DTD - The youngest (20s), the tallest (6'2"-the father figure asked), and the most heavily eyelinered. From Belarus. Points for accented small-talk. CRS: 9

Rs - The oldest, and the most likely to have ridden cross-country with one of her former customers forty years ago. Points for make-up'ed cheeks matching color of diner name. CRS: 7.5 (minus 2, for the bad coffee itself) = 5.5

First set goes to Deluxe Town Diner.**

The Food (Skillet): KsD - Wheat toast, pre-buttered to a satisfying absorption, allowing the crispness to remain while having a bite or two in the middle still be dredged in butter, enough so that pressing down with the flat side of your knife onto the toast actually brings the soaked-in spread to the surface. From now on, we shall call it The Squeegee Effect. Two Poached Eggs, uncooked enough so that the yolk bursts in a satisfying deluge of yellow onto the toast, which has been expertly placed below it to catch the liquid rays of sunshiney goodness, cooked enough so that the white is solid. Sausage patties, salty and greasy and a fine supplementary flavor to bread and egg, packing some spice but not overpowering the unctuous warm magma. Homefries, providing good olfactory notes, a soft/crunchy texture, but honestly the least important element to the meal.

DTD - Wheat toast, slightly less buttered, but one extra slice, so that six halves stack up on the outskirts of the gigantic plate. Ultimately, one half will go unused. The opportunity is appreciated though. Two Poached Eggs: Oooh, this is where the DTD shines, such pillowy dollops, impossible nuggets of gold, King Midas' eyeballs after removing a lash with a pinky. I punctured the yolk and a jet of silky plasma shot out three inches to the right. Luckily, the toast was there to cushion the fall. But it is the white that secures this egg's place in the top ranks of my Poached Choice of Champions, because this white has been transformed, resembling nothing so much as the stuffing from the quilt stitched by your now-deceased great-grandmother, approximating a cumulus cloud turned physical, the cotton tail from that rabbit your sister had as a pet growing up which got out once and bit you but you still loved for its innocence and twiching nose before "accidentally" leaving the door of its cage unlatched and watching its little tail hop, hop away into the busy street before being punctured by a rolling Goodyear and its own jet of silky plasma shooting out along the sidewalk in my mind....*** um.... Three or so strips of bacon, thick, meaty, dark, cooked well, hearty. Home fries, again, fine and all, spritzed with tabasco, but, alas, forgettable, which is okay.

Rs - No toast. Two eggs, over-medium, which were really quite successful, in that they still ran and melded with the sausage links and home fries, but were still cooked enough to be slightly hard on the perimeter of the yolk, and the whites provided a solid balance, with no trace of liquidy globs, so like pre-digested orange pith that I frankly don't wish to consider the uncooked egg white any longer. On the whole, a lot better than this verve-less description makes it sound.

Second set? Deluxe Town Diner, in a 7-6 tiebreaker with Kelly's.

The Food (griddle): KsD - Two pancakes, 8" diameter, studded with chocolate chips. Some have melted inside, which is a good thing. Unique component: An unidentified something or other, which the father-figure has guesstimated as malt, which gives the cakes a sturdy heft and underlying complexity, similar to throwing Pop Rocks into a smoothie. The result is 1000% more delicious than the Pop Rocks analogy would indicate. The F-F's "Best Pancakes Ever." Points for being the prime motivation of his trip out east, aside from his youngest son, of course.

DTD - Two pancakes, 8" diameter, also studded with chocolate chips. Unique component: There's Sour Cream in the batter! Result is a tangy, fluffy cake that holds the chips and soaks in the real (!) maple syrup with equal aplomb.

Rs - Two pancakes (instead of the toast). 5 1/2" diameter. Points for butter mounded on the side, instead of the epicenter of the top cake. Serviceable, if un-outstanding. To be fair, Rosebud's was the third of our three breakfasts, so perhaps I was feeling less ambitious, not requesting the chocolate chips. In hindsight, should have given the French Toast a try.

Third Set? A tough call. For loyalty and my eating companion's sake, I'll give Kelly's Diner a win on an unforced error by Deluxe Town Diner. But Kelly's had to hold off two break points.

The Atmosphere: KsD - Classic, unpretentious, giant wooden cowboy statue, tableside jukeboxes, gruff-in-a-groovy way service. SelfPromo Score - 6, with a framed photograh with host of Food Network's show "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives."

DTD - Negative points for widescreen TV. Positive points for channel set to CNN ("Home of the best political team on television.") Guy who sat us was an older guy with greying, spiked hair who wore chunky-frame black and yellow glasses... call it a push. SelfPromo Score - 3.5. They sold too much of their own merchandise.

Rs - Nice mix of neon and antique artifacts. Tv in corner, but muted, and with a 4:3 standard ratio. SelfPromo Score - 7.5, with only a "Diners of New England" book for sale. Points for being featured in a "Ziggy" comic, which the author is finding funnier and funnier these days.

Fourth Set, in a surprise flurry of aces and cross-court winners, goes to Rosebud's.

Overall, all three are Diner-licious. If you're looking for a cool space to timewarp back fifty years, go to Rosebud's. If you're seeking out some serious pancakes and a heaping plate of good eats with charming old-lady service on the side, check out Kelly's. And if you want the finest Poached Egg this side of St. Peter's gates, roll on over to Deluxe Town Diner. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to lie down. Weekend brunch is just around the corner.

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* It is an inevitable fact, that the person who serves you at a truck-stop/diner will be female. Reasons range from the highest level of socio-economic debate to the murky perversions of those prone to driving 2-ton rigs carrying liquid nitrogen for 48 hours straight. I'll leave you to debate amongst yourselves.

** The game of tennis is a fine analogy for a good diner. There is a back-and-forth, a kind of symbiotic relationship between customer and server/atmosphere. Love is involved. And at some point, you're probably going to arrive at Deuce.

*** Though the sister and pet were real, the door-unlatching vengeance was not. Honest.