The Mysterious Appeal of the Faux-Stone Frontage

Diners have, over the years, tried many looks in order to lure the passing customer. Art Deco, gleaming silver rail car, lunch cart style, Colonial, Mediterranean, Tudor, Road House, etc.

One style I have never understood is the faux fieldstone facade. You still see examples of it in various New York neighborhoods. The above diner is in Greenpoint. Below is the Capitol Diner in Inwood. I'm not sure what the intention of the design is. Are we supposed to think the diner is housed inside some sort of grand, stone castle or medieval structure? Is is supposed to lend the restaurant a patina of history? The two diners I mention here are both Greek. Maybe they like the idea of looking like an ancient ruin. For my part, I think the design is inherently drab. It usually causes the owner to order a brown awning in order to keep with the color scheme. It all looks pretty dusty and dingy after a few years.

A Good Sign: Dick's Hardware

Nice, hand-painted sign way the hell up on upper Broadway, at 207th, in Inwood. "Everything you need for your home and more." Don't know how old, but people say it's been around "forever."

Buildings on Stilts

Those who think Manhattan is a flat island would be surprised by what they find in Inwood, where hills, or even cliffs, are not uncommon.

Take, for instance, these apartment complexes on Broadway terrace, that look like they're built on the peak of some Tuscan hill town. The ones on stilts I find rather alarming. How do they possibly stay erect?

Rainbow Rollercoaster at 191st Street

Anyone out there who thinks their subway stop has some flair and wit should first check out the 191st station on the 1 line. It gets bonus points right off for having the biggest extant IRT sign I've ever seen. Beyond that, it's been painted with a riot of colors, and with a wide variety of depictions of local Inwood and Washington Heights attractions (though, I must say, the sign saying "Malcolm X Tonight" on the Audubon Ballroom gives me the chills).

I guess riders need a bit of cheer before taking that long elevator ride down. At 180 feet below street level, the station is the MTA's deepest

Lunch at the Capitol

The Capitol Diner has been sitting on upper Broadway near 207th Street since 1927. It's basically your last chance for standard-issue diner food before you hit the Bronx.


As is often the case with aged Greek diners, the splendid oldness of the place ends with the facade. Great sign. Inside, it's a more mundane oldness at work, probably only stretching back to the 1970s. The food's nothing special, but serviceable. The "homemade" cream of chicken soup was obviously Campbell's. The fries weren't bad. And I was impressed with a regular's very specific order: "Can you give me a burger, medium rare, no bun, with mozzarella, fried onions and gravy on top."


This tile design on the wall kind of blinded me. A bold choice.


I have no idea why, but the Capitol was serving drinks out of cups advertising The Hat, a California fast-food chain that specializes in pastrami.

One other thing that clinches this place's fabulousness: It's the Capitol Diner, ladies and gentlemen, not the Capital Diner. "O," not "A." As in the place where Congress meets.

Not good spellers? Or do the owners truly revere the American democratic model?