Bob’s Diner

2279 Depot Street, Manchester Center, Vermont 05255

“To eat in a diner is to experience an expression of some of the best parts of our shared history,” says Michael Wyetzner for Architectural Digest.  It recalls 1930s railway dining cars as well as an idealized future anchored in the 1950s--the Jetsons stepping out of cartoon to everyday life.  

Bob’s Diner in Manchester, Vermont conveys this exuberant, nostalgic optimism perfectly.  Start with the outside.  The sign: big, bold, no nonsense.  This is not Francois’s Patisserie.  This is Bob’s Diner: bold letters, red, black and white, an analogue clock proclaiming--time is passing--eat now!  Two little coffee cups perch on posts.  Coffee with your bacon and eggs  or burger?

The chrome and length of the building suggest a train car.  The fragrant smell of hamburgers and fries wafts through the fresh Vermont air.  You walk past picnic tables--perfect for warm weather, a nod toward ideal family outings.  You glimpse sputnik lights dangling above booths.

Inside, you enter a whirl of action--the buzz of conversation, the swirl of waitresses--arms loaded up with gleaming white plates--gliding and weaving like hockey players.  There’s Bob bussing a booth,  wiping the tabletop and gesturing for eager diners to claim the spot.  He  sweeps  the menus in a wide arc,  a magician revealing his trick--your booth, clean and ready to go.

Linger a bit and watch Bob.  He laughs.   He nods toward a table.  He  whispers to a waitress. He puts an arm around the shoulder of one guy.  If you plotted his movements for an hour or two, they’d track to a bee swiftly gathering nectar, bud to bud.

Bob points out a young guy behind Kendra and me.  Apparently that guy had been in recently and started choking, so much that Bob had to do the Heimlich maneuver on him.  And before you think that the diner food provoked the Heimlich, the guy had tried to gulp down too many vitamins.  

Who says that diners don’t exist with a healthful lifestyle?

Ok, people usually don’t go to a diner for a cleanse and breath work.  But for good, honest food--that may call up  the “ best parts of our shared history”--well, Bob’s is pretty amazing.

I started with something to prepare my palate: a chocolate milkshake.

I confess: I  cannot have too much chocolate in a shake.  If I could, I’d suck a solid chocolate bar up the straw.  This shake comes in a glass parfait glass: deep, dark chocolate, thick, luscious-- a shake you can barely get through the straw.  In your mouth it just says, “ah!” 

So--I liked the shake. 

I should say a word about Lesley, our waitress.  As we ate, she must have greeted, oh, 46 customers by name--the quick exchanges testifying to good will established over time.  She’s quick and upbeat, but given the bustle of the place she’s not a chatty Cathy. She’s worked at Bob’s for 6 years--an eternity in the local food business.  She told us Bob’s Skillet was the most popular item--so we ordered it, along with the beefalo burger and a side of corned beef hash.

I was wanting to order onion rings, but didn’t, thinking they weren’t on the menu.  But near the end of our meal a plate floated by with golden brown onion rings basking in sunshine before being devoured by a customer.

So--if you like onion rings--order away..

Other intriguing things on the menu: surprise--there’s a Moscow Mule!  I didn’t knock one back--noon is a bit early for me--but, maybe after skiing?  Why not?  Domestic beer is $5, but--as it should be--Vermont beer is $7.

The Beefalo burger is at least 90% lean beef from the local Mount Brook farm.  Mount Brook’s website makes this claim: “The beef is leaner, bolder in taste, fewer calories, less fat and less cholesterol. It is the only beef recommended by the American Heart Association.” 

Bob’s Beefalo Burger is denser and tastes pleasingly gamey (like elk?).  And the health benefits allow the bacon to ride along, guilt-free--a perfect burger for a diner diner seeking something new.  The fries are not skinny-crunchy, not wedgy-mushy, but moderately crispy with a delicious soft inside.

Farmer Bob’s skillet is perfect for a big appetite: two eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, fries, toast.

We loved the corned beef hash with hollandaise sauce.  Lesley had promised it was so good it would ruin you for any other.  I haven’t had another to test out her theory--but the corned beef had some carmelization, giving it some crispiness.  The hollandaise sauce, smooth and slightly lemony, elevated the hash: ask for some on the side!

We sampled two desserts--all we could do after a filling lunch.  The homemade blueberry pie overflowed with, well, blueberries.  But the rice pudding stole the show.  It was creamy, cinnamon-y--like a toothy horchata.  

So--in short--if you are looking  for “some of the best parts of our shared history,” or simply want a great shake, burger and fries at a decent price--Bob’s Diner is the place to go.