Joe’s Griddle & Grill
Thursday, August 18, 2016
My grampa passed away yesterday. Marvin Glover. Bon Voyage, Grampa.
I woke up hungry. Probably a coincidence as I usually wake
up hungry, but the death in the family was all the excuse I needed to stuff myself
with a dopamine-releasing monster brunch.
I wanted to go somewhere I’d never been before and this
place was “potentially a hidden gem,” according to my attorney. Joe’s was formerly Southside Diner, I’m told,
oozing with orangy lights and a greasy trucker vibe. But it has been re-imagined (or ‘redeemed’
like Pamela’s Secrets).
This diner is
on the outskirts of town, right off of exit 243. It is a truck stop and fueling station, sure,
but the inside was much nicer than I had expected. It was all shiny with black and red tile;
there were live plants and photos of local landmarks hanging on the walls; the
lighting was soft and the booths comfy.
Truckers were at the bar digging into huge breakfasts and flirting with
waitresses.
The menu had a lot of variety. They serve Southern style food like liver and
onions, country fried steak, seafood like catfish and fried shrimp, and they
got pasta, steak, burgers, soup, salad, BLT’s, grilled cheese; a little something
for all tastes.
The restaurant is connected to a convenience store that
sells sunglasses, CB’s, chips, petroleum jelly, pizza rolls, Virginia shot
glasses, and those flakey Mennonite fried pies you can get on the South side of
town. Everything you’d need for a life
on the road.
My coffee came in a small mug, as usual. I tell you, a restaurant with big coffee cups
can expect to impress me. Our waitress
was on the ball, though, and my brew never made it down to half a cup.
The news was on the TV.
It was the first time I’d seen news in a while and it was
interesting. Commercials shared dirty
dirt on Hillary Clinton. The anchors
lamented Trump’s candidacy. The whole shebang was a cocktail of fear for the elderly
who desire it.
We ordered food like it was our last meal on Earth. And it’s a good thing we were eating at a
truckstop with that feast in front of us.
I like to think it appeared that we were on the road and hadn’t eaten in
days. Otherwise, ay caramba.
I ordered a Patty melt and fries. My attorney ordered the steak and cheese with
fries. And we shared three sides – hash
browns, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese.
It was while waiting for our brunch to arrive that I noticed
the fuel station/diner’s slogan, “Eat at Joe’s and get gas.”
The patty melt tasted a little McDonald’s-eque, and with
lettuce, tomato, mayo, and buttery toast, was just what the doctor
ordered. (I’m the doctor here.)
The steak and cheese had a soft bun and green peppers and
the French fries were crispy and seasoned.
The mac and cheese delivered comfort and the potato sides
were, bleh, but I hate potatoes anyway so don’t take my word for it.
After all that and three cups of coffee, gluttony kicked in
and we got a few Mennonite fried pies.
They are all delectable but let me just say that if god was a flakey-crusted
dessert, They would be the coconut one.
Joe’s was better than expected and gave me what I thought I
wanted. Thank’s, Joe’s!
Amanda out!
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