Check out my column every week on Vegas Inside Tips, called VEGAS MAGIC.

Last week: ROAD FOOD JACKPOT

Top down, early morning sun as I drive out of Los Angeles on my way home to Vegas, heading over the Cajon Pass, that long highway that stretches from the valley to the top of the first big mountain range you have to pass.  At the top, over 4,000 feet above sea level,  there’s a sign for the “Summit Inn”, non-descript sign we have all seen as we sail past it, either on the way to Vegas or on the road to Los Angeles.  There’s a gas station at that exit, and not much else. 

 

 

On this particular morning, I decided it was time for a bit of food, so I had a breakfast in mind, and told myself to be on the lookout for familiar food signs once I hit the high desert towns I was about to approach.  That’s when that familiar “Summit Inn” sign popped into view.  I’ve seen it every time I’ve driven by it, dozens of times, and never had the urge to stop there.  Not very inviting at first glace.

I find the exit, fly off the ramp and hit semi-dirt road (it’s actually historic Highway Route 66) that leads to this old shack, it’s a diner inside, but you wouldn’t know it from the outside.  Along the short road, there are old tractors, farm equipment, all displays of genuine vehicles that one time worked the land no doubt. 

The shack with signs offering food and lotto tickets, looks like that highly appealing joint we call a local good food stop.  Usually (but not always) home cooking, and friendly service not found in the roadside carbon copy chain restaurants with picture-menus for ease in selecting your poison.

As one who has spent a great deal of time on the road, I learned to seek out the locals eating spots.  Great food more often that not and a flavor of the local area, a slice of life in that area, where most of the patrons live within walking distance of the place.  Much rather a family-owned place over a chain restaurant, which I avoid at all costs.

When I walked in, I was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere.  Warm and friendly, been there forever (opened in 1952, my favorite year), every available space on the walls is covered with a metal sign or license plate or gold record, lots of really old stuff make you feel like it’s a diner from way back.  That’s because it is.

Joanie, the fantastic manager was delivering food, taking orders, keeping conversations with a number of locals, welcomed me and brought a fresh cups of java and the menu.  She was off to another booth where she was engaged in conversations with more locals.  As I looked around, I was suddenly sitting in a diner in Worcester, Massachusetts with my dad, in the late 50’s or 60’s, ordering a hamburger and milk shake with extra cream.

We worms (as Worcester natives are sometimes called) know a thing or two about diners.  We invented diners.  Commercial production of diners began in Worcester, Massachusetts, in 1887.

Next time you’re in a diner, the real box car heavy metal constructed diner, look for a metal plate by the front door identifying it’s manufacturer, and nearly all of them are made at the Worcester Lunch Car Company.  There are more real diners located in Worcester that any other city on earth, and believe me, we are very proud.  Just think of how many arteries have been clogged in one of these bastions of high cholesterol meals that taste so good...

I grew up eating in diners, 3 of them now in the national Registry of Historic Places, making me some sort of an expert.  I no longer eat in those kinds of places in the interest of health and wellness, but once in a while, I need to have my fix.

The Summit Inn is a slice of history.  This place was not a real lunch car, but the inside looked just like a real Worcester diner, from the stools around the counter, the mix of booths and metal tables and chairs, the white tile, neon signs and handwritten signs all over the place.  It had the feel of a diner which is a good thing.  I could see through the window in the metal wall guarding the kitchen, a surprisingly large kitchen, and a one guy darting about, multi-tasking all the elements of the meals, a one man kitchen, a great cook, who I suspect cooks some tasty lunch and dinner items, too.  He seemed pretty relaxed, as he effortlessly handled the mild morning rush.  There were a lot more empty seats than full ones, but there was a pleasant buzz from all the locals, and the rock and roll on the sound system.

The real test is in the food, and I was super impressed.  I went with the unimaginative bacon and eggs, as it involved zero thought and it’s quick.

A simple meal.  Easy to ruin.  It’s a crap shoot.  I came up a winner.  Eggs cooked perfectly, home made hash browns, with diced onions, soft and crispy at the same time, crispy bacon (I counted 6 strips) and thick rye bread toast, I rarely do this, but it was certainly worth it.  The menu lists loads of comfort food items, and even Buffalo and Ostrich burgers.

Selfishly, when I left the place, I thought about keeping this to myself.  But common sense prevailed and I decided I want more people to experience this little secret at the top of the mountains.  Next time you find yourself at the top of the El Cajon Pass, stop in.  Ask for Joanie.  Great service, fantastic food cooked perfectly, fabulous atmosphere.
 I’ll be timing my trips to include a meal there as often as possible.