Frank signals emphatically to one of the servers that table #9 needs service. Dressed in a black leather jacket, he directs the Gateway Diner team—the buzzing busboy, the experienced waitress, the protégé—from the center, where he keeps watch with his number two, the hostess.
If there is one thing the Gateway team has learned from Frank, it’s how to treat customers well. The service here is one-of-a-kind, almost too good to be true. You’re greeted with a smile as you walk in the door.
“Is everything okay?”
Everything was great. Classic pancakes accompanied by fresh strawberries and a dusting of powdered sugar, smothered with New York maple syrup. Mediterranean cuisine that will leave your tastebuds in a flavor coma—succulent lamb gyro, crisp Greek salad and hot, salted french fries.
“See you soon,” Frank says as you walk out the door.
He’s damn right.
It’s just above freezing. You spent the afternoon traveling in the rain and you’re cold, wet, and hungry, so when you spot the five oversized neon letters at the crossroads between the Taconic Parkway and Route 23, you’re drawn like a moth to a flame.
“What’s good here?” you ask a man in a trucker hat sitting in the booth behind you.
“Nothing’s not good here, I’ll tell you that,” he mumbles from beneath his beard.
The waitress behind the counter is memorizing menu items and their prices. When she stops at your booth to take your order, you ask, “First day?”
“Fifth,” she replies with a smile.
“What’s good here?”
“Get the French dip.”
“I’ll take it.”
The sandwich is the best you’ve ever had—succulent roast beef dripping with au jus and smothered with cheese. Before it’s done you ask the passing waitress for a strawberry milkshake to top it off.
You’re warm, full, and rested, and as you watch families laughing in booths and police officers having coffee, you realize the trucker was right. Nothing’s not good here.