Usually there’s not a whole lot to say about a diner. But this place is comically bad. Go on Yelp and take a look at the one photo of “bacon.” There is so little care or attention paid to the food it makes you wonder why they’re in the the food business. Everything is minuscule and sad. The eggs thrown on the plate willy-nilly. The bacon looking like those shredded tires you see on the side of the parkway. Everything slap-dash, half-assed and generally unappetizing-looking. Served with little shame or recognition by a waitstaff that is probably enured to the garbage they’re slinging. Also rotting stuffed animals, Christmas decorations in April and so little care given it feels like maybe they’re just luring you in to chop up your body to make into hash for next Sunday’s crowd. They also advertise this as a “seafood pavilion.” You couldn’t pay me any amount of money to eat a fish cooked in this restaurant. I’d sooner eat Mexican food in Boston! And, let me tell you, that’s a mistake I only make once.
Also, it felt like people were staring. I don’t know much about Whippany. Hipster Jr. had some sort of Red Bulls training out there, and the day we actually came to this joint, we were on our way back from some suburban hotel with some friends for a new-student college meeting. But, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were in Pennsylvania cult country or something. Dead-eyed, yet skeptical is how I’d describe the other diners. We did make for a bit of a motley crew looking from the outside, but it felt as though we were invading the regulars’ weekend haunt. This rural double-wide explosion masquerading as a diner. And, look, I’m not scared of much. I walked around Avenue C in the 90s. I drove through Compton in the 80s! But I do have a fear of rolling into a small town where people seem friendly at first, but then they lure me into the general store and hatchet up my body to serve to some dude in a mask as a blood sacrifice out back in the woods. This kind of felt like that.
So, complete and utter hyperbole aside, the food wasn’t good. And somehow it also wasn’t cheap. In fact, it wasn’t fast either. All three points of that pyramid unfulfilled. I’m sure some will call this review mean. I say, it’s more of a warning. A warning that even long-serving, family-run businesses in suburban NJ aren’t safe from the snarky voice of a generation.
417 State Rt 10 E – Whippany
973/428-5054
whippanydiner.com
