Kellogg's Diner

So I'm in NYC. Brooklyn, to be exact.  I am trying for the first time, Kelloggs Diner, on the corner of Metropolitan and Union Ave, right off the Lorimer stop.  I've passed this diner a million times, always wondering when I'd seize the opportunity to disprove all the bad reviews, or hearsay that I've been warned by my peers.  I, for one, am not accustomed to reading, or taking advice from reviews, because my own take is always truer to the opposite of others opinions.

       So here I am, a rainy day, waking up two blocks away, in an Italian neighborhood. The hydrants are painted Green-white-red, from top to bottom.  Italian flags wave from overhead street lines, and front porches.  "Today is the day," I say to myself.

    I throw my clothes on, double take the full rack of umbrellas sitting by the door, and close the door without a one.  In that two block walk, the rain manages to soak through the tops of my jacket, through my undershirt, and I can feel my shoulders, cold and wet.  I weed my way past a couple, blocking the rampway to the front door.  I stop in the breezeway to nod my head rhythmically to the Iggy Azalea song on the overhead speaker, something intoxicating about her voice.

    Inside, I do a walk-through to get a feel for the layout and where I might like to sit. I walk back up to the hostess and ask for a window seat.  I follow her to a far corner where a four-seater with a window view is open.  She puts the menu on the two seater across the aisle, and I agree to take it.  I figure they are reserving the 4-seater for a larger group.  

     I breeze the menu and their prices, locking onto my tried and true favorite, and most affordable thing on the menu: Two Eggs over easy, rye toast and hashbrowns for 7.95$.  A coffee is already on the table, and I read the fine print atop the breakfast options "breakfast comes with coffee or tea, and a small juice." My orange juice comes in a small bar sized shot glass. Me and the server share a good chuckle over this. 

    Per usual, I ask the waiter for mustard and hot sauce. Which I proceed to drizzle and dash over every last inch of my food.  The hash browns look crispy, and I can tell the yolks are runny under that glazed overcoat.  I decide to write a blog entry detailing my experience, and fail to take before and after photos.  So instead, I'll just give you "after" pics.