It’s late morning when you park along Monroe Avenue, shades on to shield your eyes from the harsh sun. You were up late listening to the blues on Beale Street, and you’re looking for something to take the edge off—something only a diner can provide. You find Bon Ton easily, thanks not to its huge, flashing neon sign, but to the heavenly aroma of serious comfort food that floats down the block. You follow the scent like a cartoon character, ending up at Bon Ton’s double doors. Inside, dark wood, navy vinyl, and dim lighting make the diner cool and comfortable. It feels more like a bar than a diner, which is perfect for you at the moment.
As the waitress approaches, you realize you have no idea what you want, because all of it—from the omelet to the chicken and waffles to the smothered hashbrowns—sounds perfect. But when you tell her you’re undecided, she jumps in with a recommendation: Bon Ton’s famous biscuits and sausage gravy. “You have to try it,” she says in a sweet Southern drawl. That seals the deal, and as you wait, you realize the smell of that sausage gravy is what carried you here. Breakfast can’t come out soon enough.