Sullivan Diner: Everything But The Greasy Spoon

After having waxed poetic about all things pizza, it would make sense that my follow-up post actually discusses pizza. Yet it is in my nature to do otherwise. As an ubereater, I suffer from an inability to focus and remain on any one food topic for any length of time. Then again, this is probably a good thing…I doubt anyone wants to hear me rant about dough aeration and sauce viscosity more than once, if at all…

…After my torrential tuna tirade, it is probably best that I recuperate and avoid any overly caustic commentary for a few days. Still, it will be sooner rather than later that I deal with other overt offenders such as Egg Salad, Cole Slaw, Mayo out of the jar, Potato Salad, Soy Milk, and the always vomit-inducing, Veggie Burger. These are all additional examples of some of the most unpleasant foods out there today and I assure you I will address each at some point or another. Nevermind conventional interrogation tactics, you could serve terrorist detainees a daily helping of over-whipped egg salad on stale wheat, a heaping scoop of sun-baked potato salad, and a poorly microwaved Boca Burger, and we’d gain the information necessary to stomp out Al Qaeda quicker than you could say “Bin Laden”. This is a meal that makes waterboarding look like a summer fun. I can only hope that my message be heard.

Saving foreign policy for another day, I would like to highlight one of my new “go to” neighborhood spots, the Sullivan Diner. I cannot in good conscience, do this without first briefly discussing my stance on the father of American cuisine, the hamburger. Diners, pubs, neighborhood bistros, you name the establishment; it probably has a burger on the menu. Naturally, I’m an equal opportunity burger boy, enjoying all iterations of the timeless classic, from euphoric IN-N-OUT burgers to the gourmet blue-cheese burgers at The Odeon in Tribeca. Either way, it should be known that if I’m passionate about pizza, then I am bonkers about burgers. What’s the best thing about a burger you might ask? Well…you can send it back.

In all my eating, I’ve come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who send back their overcooked burgers, and those who do not. It is the former that comprises strong-willed, endearingly inexorable individuals who have set out to obtain a hamburger that is prepared to their exact specifications. To these hamburger hectors, anything less is unacceptable and anything overcooked, is inedible. These are the people that know what they want and want what they know, that recognize the difference between medium-rare and rare, who mean it when they say “hold the lettuce and tomato”. These are the chosen ones.

Then there are the “non-senders” who order A, receive B, and use C to justify the outcome, implementing some sort of culinary Pythagorean Theorem that serves no purpose whatsoever. This sort of twisted triangulation not only enables sub-par restaurants to stay in business, but more broadly, encourages the proliferation of other present-day social atrocities such as Don’t Forget the Lyrics, Hairspray, Nickelback, and Al Roker. They keep bringing crap to the table, and we keep gobbling it down. But Why? I simply do not understand. Why, on God’s green earth, do I have to pay $5, never mind $10, for something I didn’t order. In what other consumer realm does such passivism and recreant reaction go unchecked? Where else in our everyday lives do we willingly offer monetary tender in exchange for unsatisfactory goods and ill-conceived services. Why is it that the people who go out of their way to redeem 50 cent coupons at the grocery store, are the same ninnies who accept their overcooked burger as is, resorting to inordinate amounts of ketchup to numb the sting of their buyer’s remorse. Thankfully, however, Sullivan Diner has never required me to exercise my innate right to return an unwanted burger.

Right around the corner from me and just recently renovated inside, this laid back neighborhood eatery on quiet Sullivan St is a nice escape from the constant craziness of Greenwich Village. Plush magenta cushioning lines the entire U-shaped dining room creating an comfortable and relaxed feel that goes well with the comfort food that comes out of the kitchen. The star here is the burger which is thick, juicy and manly, cradled by a buttery, flaky Portuguese roll that absorbs the tasty juices of the meat without turning into finger-mush as you eat it. As a side, you have your choice of several freshly prepared vegetables, my favorite of which is the steamed broccoli that arrives piping hot, vibrantly green, and packed with garlic flavor. It is possibly the best broccoli I’ve ever had. Last but not least, your burger comes with homemade half-sour pickles that are tart, crunchy, and a tad peppery. I can never seem to stop eating them, and if you like pickles the way I do, (you’d have to be a Pagan not to), you’ll probably want to order extra…I always do.

Beyond the burger, the Meatloaf with Mushroom Gravy is a winner as it is what Meghan always orders and what I always try to finish. She’s what I call a “econo-eater”, always turning one meal into two by saving her leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch. This prevents me from finishing what’s on her plate. Needless to say, my ubereater mind does not comprehend this behavior, which is of course, a whole other issue…

In this city, most burgers are either overrated, overpriced, or some combination of the two, making it tough to sift through the bag of tricks, novelties, and gimmicks that have us waiting 45 minutes for a slider at The Shake Shack. I say, skip that nonsense, grab your beau, and head over to the Sullivan Diner where your $9 bucks will buy you a comfy seat, attentive service, some much needed veggies, and of course, a damn good hamburger.

I doubt you’ll be sending anything back.



Sullivan Diner
169 Sullivan St
NY, NY 10012


Report Card
Food - A- (can be just a touch salty at times)
Ambiance - A- (comfortable in its own skin)
Service - A (always attentive and pleasant)
Experience in a thought - "Diner" in the name, doesn't do this place justice!