Somerville Diner

Getting to the Somerville Diner was much more complicated than it should have been. We started our journey from Pennsauken with every intent to head north into Hillsborough for our practice and lessons. We decided to use our trusty GPS once we got on the road to find a diner (hoping there would be another gem off of 295). I plugged our destination into the GPS in hopes that it would take me to 295, but instead Mr. TomTom decided our best bet to get to north Jersey would be to cross over the Walt Whitman and jump on 95 (without asking me if I would like to avoid toll roads), and make me throw away five dollars on the toll. The adventure continues when about halfway between Philadelphia and Trenton we decide to start looking for a diner.

Fourth Time's the Charm

At this point we still trusted TomTom so we plugged in "diner" and our first result was Croydon Family Diner in Bensalem, PA. Wonderful. We drive for twenty minutes off 95 through neighborhoods and back roads until we get to a dead end road with no diner at the end. Upon further research, the Croydon Family Diner cannot be found on Google Maps, it probably no longer exists. So now we're in a nice suburb area which means there's got to be a nice greasy spoon close by and TomTom tells us to go to the Blue Fountain Diner in Langhorne, PA. it's off the old Lincoln Highway and after a bit of driving we are once again taken to another dead end road (much creepier this time) with no diners to be seen. We then discussed the chances that something out of a horror movie was going to happen and we decide to get the hell out of Pennsylvania since they apparently don't have diners anymore (further investigation makes me believe that TomTom was under the impression that Blue Fountain was on a different Lincoln Highway). After getting into Jersey we decide to try one more time, and the nearest diner from the border on our way to Hillsborough (not including Red Oak and Hillsborough Star) was the Jersey Diner about a mile past our destination. Guess what? It doesn't exist. At this point we freak out, decide that Time to Eat Diner is up the road (we've been planning to eat there a while now) and on our way there the Somerville Diner pops up like a gift from God. We pulled into the parking lot scowling at TomTom.

Meatball Sub

I unfortunately do not have much to say about this diner and it is, sadly, quite forgettable. I decided to order something familiar and got a meatball sub (on a club roll served with fries) and upon ordering the waitress called me out asking me if that was even on the menu and the telling me that they probably don't even have rolls. Really? Upon showing her that I ordered a real entree, she admitted, "oh we must have the rolls then," facepalm. The sandwich itself was good. The bread was delicious even if it didn't hold the sandwich together (I ended up finishing with a fork and knife), the sauce was zesty and fresh, and everything was covered in melted provolone cheese. The meatball was definitely a step up from the Club Diner's meatballs but Somerville had it's shortcomings. Even though they had superb texture and decent taste, they were still over sized for the sandwich and altogether too dry (especially with the thick roll they used). My fries were served to me warm and even had an "I've been sitting around too long" texture. They were passable with a copious amount of ketchup.


This was a classic case of ‘should have quit while you’re behind’. At first I was completely enamored by the Somerville Diner, which seemed to appear out of nowhere to save us from our hungry, hungry fate. The décor made me feel welcome, and the hostess/waitress made me feel adored. But apparently, it was my stomach that must have overtook my brain’s capacity for perception because little did I know I was walking into a place that was just a little too-cute.

Florentine Omelette

In an attempt to expand my horizons, I ordered a Florentine omelette- spinach, sautéed onions, and feta cheese, folded into 3 fluffy eggs for a little under 8 bucks. AND, it came with toast and home fries! (Can you tell I’m still recovering from Marlton-diner sticker-shock?) Then, she came out with GIANT coffee mugs (which ended up costing $1.79 apiece), which we soon discovered to be filled with burnt-woody, dark coffee. I liked it more than Chris who barely took a second sip.

We’ll start with the good: My omelette was delish. I was afraid of the cook going overboard and loading my omelette with feta. I had imagined in my head some worst-case-scenario of not quite done eggs with cheese just spills onto everything after you cut into it. (This is why I don’t order cheese in omelettes usually). But, the feta was very light, and served only to enhance the fresh spinach leaves (left whole and un-mushy from being handled). Toast was lazily prepared with a disproportionate amount of butter on every piece. Also note that I got two pieces of toast physically on my plate and then a side of two more, leaving me with FOUR (or eight, depending on how you look at it) pieces! Ridiculous.

Clean, Homey Interior

But here’s the kicker: Chris had said it best when he said that this place looks like it’s in desperate need of a Tabitha Takeover (shameless plug for faboosh Bravo reality show). Clearly there are deep-set issues between management and staff. A manager, dressed not much better than the waitresses, was helicopter-parenting all around the floor looking at their actions, coming up to tables to monitor and seemingly find faults and someone to blame them on. Twice he came up to us to ask if we had needed anything, after our waitress had already been by to check in. I’m a firm believer of the management should work behind the scenes and not be seen too often, so it put me off when he asked us if “we ever got [our] water” when we had in fact, not ordered water.

It became clear that this distrust was mutual, because soon everybody’s demeanor did a 180 and I no longer felt like my dining experience was a priority. Our waitress turned into a Debbie downer, complaining about her boss riding her, and making excuses for her lagging service on his involvement. It was like watching a disgruntled father trying to handle angsty teenage daughters, except that they were too old to be doing this. And so were we.

Hotdogs?

I’m a firm believer that whatever went down in the back of the house should be left once you hit the dining area. You are on the same team, and if it’s not all smiles than it certainly shouldn’t be a room full of scowls. Nobody can digest Sunday Brunch on a stomach full of dysfunction.

FYI: This place doubles as a Nathan’s Hot Dog (um…strange) but I will say that for the 40-some minutes we were there, nobody came in to eat one. They advertise “Famous Texas-Style BBQ Ribs”- a daily special for $14.99 that includes a full rack, fries, soup de jour and choice of dessert.

Perhaps we just caught them on a particularly grumpy day, but since I’m not a meat-eater, I will not be revisiting this one anytime soon. We’ll be heading to the other diner near Somerville, The Time to Eat Diner, soon to compare. Stay tuned.