French Fry Diary 248: The Oregon Diner

While New Jersey is principally known for its diners, the phenomenon does spread throughout the region, with some famous ones, and not so famous ones in the city of Philadelphia. One of those is the Oregon Diner. Friends Crystal, Anthony and frequent visitor Jeff used to live right around the corner, so this 24/7 diner became the default meeting and chatting place in the late night hours. Trust me, it wasn't about the food, it was about convenience.

Unless you get a booth, and tat's usually if you have for or more, you don't get seated up front, they put you in the back - most of the time, waaay in the back. It's a long walk for us, and it's a long walk for the waitress - so wrong orders, extra needs and soda and water refills? Looong wait. And that's if your waitress is even looking out for you or paying attention. If they get a hint that you're from Jersey rather than Philly, you'll never see her again. Nights at the Oregon Diner are not feasts of customer service.

For this reason, one tries to keep the orders very simple, and order lots of extra water at first, and hope for the best. This night, it just happened to be convenient, as our friends no longer live around there, but we still ended up there. As this was probably one of the last times I'd be there willingly, I decided to get a review out of it.

Jeff got a pizza burger, which came with fries. These were typical diner fries - regular cuts covered in Invisicoat, and only slightly warm, and deep-fried, at least once. The Bride got chicken croquets with mashed potatoes. They were warm, not creamy or stiff, and just barely warm. I had to wonder how long they had been in the kitchen. I got my usual late night breakfast diner default - home fries. They were sliced potatoes, some overdone, some barely cooked, and all just barely warm.

I am so glad we are done with this place. In a land of diners, this is one of the worst. Only Olga's could come close.