The next time you're driving someone to the airport, console yourself with the knowledge that you can drop in at Mary's Bleue Moon Caf脙漏 afterwards.
It's a tumbledown sort of place that looks like a good wind would knock it off its foundation, but I don't think it has one. All the same, "Mary's" has survived on this spot in one form or another for 70 years now and, though bacon and eggs costs a bit more than 50 cents a plate now, it's still a bargain.
Replete with framed yellowed newspaper clippings and airplane bric a brac, Mary's is the kind of place where you become a regular even if you only stop in a few times a year. It's the kind of place where you can get a hot turkey sandwich at 8 o'clock at night and the dinner special is actually a bargain, instead of a dollar off the regular price. You won't find the word organic on the menu, but you will find a comprehensive selection of home-cooked dishes at reasonable prices.
When my friend Don and I visited on a Saturday night, the evening's special was two New York steak dinners and a bottle of domestic wine for the princely sum of $39.95. Tempting, but we wanted to start with an order of "pig wings." These plump, bone-in smoky pork chops are rubbed with spices and knock their chicken counterparts right off the list of things you should always have with a cold beer.
Food comes quickly enough, but there was enough time for some fascinating people-watching, typical of a place that is part diner, part local pub. We were next to a couple on a date who discussed their (online) first impressions of each other in nauseatingly saccharine terms, but who fortunately were mostly drowned out by one of several family groups that sat nearby. The front room with the bar was shared between a co-operative mixture of bikers and seniors, the latter louder by quite a bit.
Portions are ample to say the least. I had thought that my carnivorous leanings would be satisfied by our appetizer, but in the end, I couldn't pass on the steak sandwich, featuring a nicely aged eight-ounce New York smothered with saut脙漏ed mushrooms on garlic bread for $12.99. I managed the sandwich but couldn't eat the mountain of fries that came with it. My only suggestion for this dish would be to make it half fries and half salad.
You simply can't get through that amount of potatoes while they are still hot and cold fries are never a good thing.
Don had to leave some of his trucker portion of bangers and mash with mushy peas and gravy, which must have been as good as my sandwich, since we weren't talking much. We shared a piece of chocolate layer cake that nearly killed us. Mind you, it would have been worth it.
We went back for dinner another evening, determined to bypass the pig wings, which we did in favour of a quesadilla with mozzarella, green onions and a generous amount of lobster meat. These were OK, but they were cooked with the wasabi mayonnaise we thought would be a dip and hot mayonnaise is never a good idea. If I had this again, I would ask for it on the side.
I barely managed to pass on the evening special (prime rib and Yorkshire pudding, $14.95). My choice of sesame-crusted tuna was moist, with a good selection of vegetables and rice pilaf that hit the spot. Don was only momentarily overwhelmed by a pile of succulent pork ribs slathered in barbecue sauce. We wisely declined dessert.
There was a time when the capital region was dotted with places like Mary's, all of which had their strengths and weaknesses, but most are gone now. It's a pity, because not only are there few places where you can get a truly good meal for a fair price, but these are the places that taught servers the foundations of good service.
You won't find a food runner here or a host wearing a head-set, but you will find servers who bus their own tables, can handle more than six tables at once without messing up your order and who bring you your bill the first time you ask for it.
Long live the diner.
