\u201cYes,\u201d I said, \u201cI\u2019ll just be having coffee today.\u201d<\/p>\n
I would be visiting a lot of diners. I couldn\u2019t eat in them all.<\/p>\n
Alexander\u2019s daily specials were written on a blackboard in multi-colored chalk. The country side skillet was $19.99, which seemed expensive for a diner. But this is the North Side. The soups of the day were split pea and chicken seashell. I finished my coffee, left a fin for a $3.81 tab, and headed south to the Little Corner Restaurant<\/a> on Broadway. The Little Corner is actually big for a diner. Its back room, which was closed to the morning crowd of three lonely breakfasters, each sitting alone in a booth, served as a campaign stop in 2023 for Brandon Johnson. The decor consists of framed vintage LPs: Connie Francis, the Turtles, Judy Garland, a Big Band compilation. One of the stools was patched with tape. The breakfast special was eggs benedict for $14.99, which was a little more like it, and there was apple and cherry pie in a refrigerated case \u2014 a diner rarity these days.\u00a0<\/p>\n Why were so few people eating this early (7:45 a.m.)?, I wondered. At the Diner Grill<\/a>, on Irving Park Road, I didn\u2019t wonder. I was the only customer in the joint, where the seating consists of 13 stools in a narrow room, like a converted rail car. The Diner Grill is open 24 hours, and does big business with late-night drunks, who are inebriated enough to attempt its famous specialty, the Slinger.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s in the Slinger?\u201d I asked the waitress. She brought out a long plate to show me how it\u2019s served.<\/p>\n \u201cHash browns, hamburgers, two eggs, cheese, onions, and chili on top. You want it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow many calories does that have?\u201d<\/p>\n The waitress shrugged. I made a face. She made a face back.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I begged off. \u201cJust coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n Plenty of people do want the Slinger, though. The wall behind me was papered with Certificates of Completion for the Slinger, bearing the glutton\u2019s name and signed by the waitresses and cooks. And t-shirts are on sale for $15. If you\u2019ve eaten at Diner Grill, you\u2019ve got to brag about it.<\/p>\n By the time I reached S&G Restaurant<\/a> in Lake View at 9:30 a.m., the breakfast crowds were beginning to pick up. S&G is named for Sam and George, two now-deceased Greek immigrants who led \u201cgood lives,\u201d according to head waitress Marie. Almost every time the door opened, she greeted the customer by name, and acknowledged their dining habits.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, hello. Nice to see ya? You gonna grab your spot? Mario. I have to give you your hat.\u201d Marie handed the man a plastic bag. \u201cIt\u2019s been driving me crazy. Good thing it\u2019s not too cold today. Elliott, let me give you some decaf. Tina, do you need some water?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEveryone is a regular, once they find us,\u201d Marie said. \u201cThey like comin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n I settled down in a booth to figure out the previous day\u2019s crossword puzzle. Then I examined the menu, which runs several pages and included 29 \u2013 29 \u2013 different skillets. There\u2019s a neon sign for Grecian Delight Gyros, in case you couldn\u2019t figure out this place is Greek.<\/p>\n After I finished the puzzle, Marie introduced me to one of her regulars. Every Wednesday at 10 a.m., Sandy (I think that was her name), gathers with several other painters at the S&G.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have an art meeting that has been meeting for several years,\u201d she said. \u201cI don\u2019t just get a glass of water, I get a pitcher. I know that sounds strange, but it makes a difference. I like to get the turkey sausage and eggs and toast.\u201d<\/p>\n On my way to the Northwest Side, I stopped at a Walgreens for the day\u2019s Sun-Times, with a new crossword puzzle. Then I visited the New Delta Restaurant in Kilbourn Park, which the cracked lettering on the window advertises as the Friendly Delta Restaurant. The New Delta is directly across the street from the single-room occupancy Hotel Elinor, providing a customer base. I discovered the New Delta when I was researching a story about walking the length of Belmont Avenue<\/a>. Its owner and only employee, Penny Revels, is indeed the friendliest short-order cook I\u2019ve ever met. I had to save the New Delta for later in my trip, because it doesn\u2019t open until 10 in the morning.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy do you open so late?\u201d I asked Penny.<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I\u2019m the only person who works here,\u201d she said. \u201cI work from 10 to 6.\u201d<\/p>\n At the New Delta, I finally ordered breakfast, because I like Penny\u2019s cooking, and because a Denver omelet with hash browns is only $11.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not a rich neighborhood,\u201d Penny explained, \u201cand I don\u2019t believe in charging someone 10 times more than it\u2019s worth.\u201d<\/p>\n I skipped the coffee. By then, I needed the bathroom. (\u201cIt\u2019s the door on the left. It says \u2018Out of Order,\u2019 but it works.\u201d) There were no paper towels, so I used a napkin. After she served me breakfast, Penny ruminated on the disappearance of diners.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s like you don\u2019t see them anymore,\u201d she said. \u201cWhen we were growing up, they were on every corner. Huddle House, J.B.\u2019s, Demar\u2019s. Everyone would rather go to IHOP and Denny\u2019s, places where you can\u2019t talk.\u201d<\/p>\n Besides me, the only customer at the counter was Miguel, who was sealing envelopes full of advertisements for his accounting business. Miguel comes to the New Delta every day for Penny\u2019s chili.<\/p>\n \u201cA lot of older people used to come in,\u201d Penny said. \u201cA lot of them have passed away, moved. I still get regulars, but not like the old people I knew. I get a younger crowd, but they\u2019re all such good kids. I like \u2019em.\u201d<\/p>\n Lou Mitchell\u2019s<\/a> in the West Loop started out as a diner in 1923, and still has its original neon sign, but has matured into a tourist destination. Three years after Lou Mitchell\u2019s opened, Route 66 was dedicated<\/a>, and the restaurant\u2019s location less than a mile from the starting point made it the first of what became many of the highway\u2019s roadside eateries. Route 66 was decommissioned in 1985, but still maintains its attraction to drivers seeking an all-American road trip. Many of those trips begin with breakfast at Lou Mitchell\u2019s. I once stopped in here before a bike excursion on the first few miles of Route 66<\/a>, and fortified myself with a bowl of oatmeal. This time, I drank coffee and finished my second crossword of the day.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s a lot of groups that come in from Germany and they know it\u2019s Route 66,\u201d said Audrey, the manager. She handed me an Illinois Route 66 Scenic Byway Visitor Guide. Lou Mitchell\u2019s was the first entry in \u201cLand of Classic Dining:\u201d \u201cLou\u2019s has served up hearty meals, with a side of quirky tradition \u2014 milk duds for the ladies and donut holes for the gents.\u201d<\/p>\n The humblest diner in Chicago has to be the Snack Shop in Bridgeport. It\u2019s a weathered hut that looks like a rural truck stop, with a sign advertising Open 24 Hours. That\u2019s no longer true, because Jose, the only cook, only works from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. Another sign out front warns, \u201cTrucks One Hour.\u201d (Some drivers tried to sleep in the parking lot.) Inside, a TV behind the counter was playing a cooking show, and Jose was sweating over a takeout order of corned beef hash, eggs, and grits. His daughter, Audrey, worked the cash register.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a neighborhood place,\u201d Jose told me, during a break from his cooking. \u201cSome people come from far away, because they don\u2019t have a place like this. I cook all the food. I try to put another, but the customers say, \u2018You\u2019re not in the kitchen, I\u2019m going.\u2019 I work seven days a week. Closed on holidays.\u201d<\/p>\n One of the customers who comes from far away is Gil, an eightysomething man with a gray beard and a sable brown toupee. He was sipping at the soup of the day, beef barley. Gil lives in the diner desert of Hyde Park.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s an upgrade to go to McDonald\u2019s,\u201d he cracked. \u201cPopeye\u2019s. I got no one to cook at home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou got to get you a wife,\u201d said his booth companion.<\/p>\n \u201cThen I\u2019d have two headaches!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis gets me out of the house, \u2019cause I\u2019m alone,\u201d Gil said. \u201cGet out and get something to eat. It sits off the street. You don\u2019t see it. I\u2019m trying to get the owner to paint it brighter colors.\u201d<\/p>\n Daley\u2019s Restaurant in Woodlawn claims to be the oldest in Chicago, a boast verified in David Anthony Witter\u2019s book Oldest Chicago. Daley\u2019s was founded in 1892 by an Irish laborer named John Daley (no relation to the political family) who wanted to take advantage of the crowds visiting Chicago for the World\u2019s Columbian Exposition.\u00a0<\/p>\n It\u2019s the fanciest of the diners I visited, oozing South Side urbanity with a brick facade, exposed ducts, chandeliers, and R&B music bouncing out of the speakers (this current, 5,900-square-foot space is across the street from its previous location and opened in 2019). As the population of the Woodlawn neighborhood has changed, Daley\u2019s has become a part of Chicago Black history. There\u2019s a famous photo of Muhammad Ali under the 63rd Street L tracks outside Daley\u2019s, where he often ate. Daley\u2019s also displays photos of Nat King Cole and Harold Washington, who were likely customers.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cI found out about it from my uncle,\u201d said Kiara, a customer on her way to pick up her daughter at King High School. \u201cHe was a regular. When I\u2019m on the go, I like the coffee. When we sit down, it\u2019s the chicken and waffles\u201d \u2014 the most popular item on the menu.<\/p>\n Me, I ate a BLT with fries. Daley\u2019s may not look like a diner anymore, but that\u2019s diner food just the same.<\/p>\n Diners are not the fanciest restaurants, but they are the friendliest. My own definition of a quality restaurant is one that serves the most amount of food for the least amount of money. No place does that better than a diner. Some of my favorites have closed over the years \u2014 Huddle House, Uptown Snack Shop \u2014 but there are still enough around that you can eat in a different one every day of the week. The diner may not be ubiquitous anymore, but it\u2019s far from dead.<\/p>\n ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/C20260326-web-diner-grill-slinger.jpg\")
The Diner Grill in Lake View, home of the Slinger (pictured), which features hash browns, hamburger, two eggs, cheese, onions, and chili on top. Photo by Abel Uribe\/Chicago Tribune<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/20230224_133547.jpg\")
The menu never changes at New Delta Photograph: Edward McClelland<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/C20260326-web-lou-mitchells.jpg\")
Many trips down Route 66 begin with breakfast at Lou Mitchell\u2019s. Photo by Bob Fila\/Chicago Tribune<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/C20260326-web-snack-shop.jpg\")
The humblest diner in Chicago has to be the Snack Shop in Bridgeport. Photo by Edward Robert McClelland<\/p>\n