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Saturday 7th September 2002 - Union NJ
The most important thing about Saturday morning, from the second any of us awoke was that we eat. Whilst I waited for the others to regain consciousness, I grabbed a quick shower and decontaminated myself. I think that that was probably the first time since arriving in the country that I’d actually felt fresh and clean, at least until I stuck my head out of the door, at any rate.
I knew that early September in the New York area would be a lot hotter than back home, but what I hadn’t banked on was the extreme heatwave that we were experiencing. Locals said that it was uncommonly hot for the time of year and news reports reported it as the hottest beginning to September on record. Some even postulated that it was because the first anniversary of 9-11 was approaching. I shall come to 9-11 when I get to the New York bit. In rural New Jersey, to a few English visitors to the colonies, the horrors of the previous September, for the most part, seemed a long way away.
We elected to go out and explore the environs and find somewhere that would serve us food. On the previous evening, I had noticed The Lunch Box and suggested we check it out. Now, to me, having watched US TV shows for as long as I can remember, The Lunch Box looked just the part – a typical blue-collar diner, serving no-frills, good-sized portions of low-cost food, to your average, everyday, working Joe. This was exactly what we needed. None of the pre-packaged, plastic crap where, the container has more taste than the burger it contains. This was what I had come to the US for, a slice of ordinary, everyday American life, not all the shite that tourists get.
I knew that early September in the New York area would be a lot hotter than back home, but what I hadn’t banked on was the extreme heatwave that we were experiencing. Locals said that it was uncommonly hot for the time of year and news reports reported it as the hottest beginning to September on record. Some even postulated that it was because the first anniversary of 9-11 was approaching. I shall come to 9-11 when I get to the New York bit. In rural New Jersey, to a few English visitors to the colonies, the horrors of the previous September, for the most part, seemed a long way away.
We elected to go out and explore the environs and find somewhere that would serve us food. On the previous evening, I had noticed The Lunch Box and suggested we check it out. Now, to me, having watched US TV shows for as long as I can remember, The Lunch Box looked just the part – a typical blue-collar diner, serving no-frills, good-sized portions of low-cost food, to your average, everyday, working Joe. This was exactly what we needed. None of the pre-packaged, plastic crap where, the container has more taste than the burger it contains. This was what I had come to the US for, a slice of ordinary, everyday American life, not all the shite that tourists get.
As soon as I entered The Lunch Box, I knew I’d found my spiritual home. The Three Stooges calendar said it all. In the UK, Curly, Larry and Moe have gone largely unnoticed, whereas in the states, they are an institution, like The Goons or Pythons are in the UK. We sat down on stools at the counter and ordered: two eggs, over easy, bacon, hash browns; eggs and sausage, toast; eggs and toast; more eggs over easy.
Now it came to my turn. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, all very tempting, I had to admit, but there was only one thing I had ever wanted to eat in America and that was a Cheese Steak. It may seem rather bizarre but I have drooled over the concept of cheese steaks for years and I wasn’t going to pass on my first chance ever to order one. And coffee. I was in the New World. I could drink coffee. There, I’d done it. My first Cheese Steak was minutes away: my first proper American meal, no less!
I was feeling quite smug and very pleased with myself and then I was asked how I liked my coffee. My initial thought was in a cup but I knew Denis Leary’s coffee sketch very well, and I knew that was not what he meant. I asked what the options were and it seemed I was faced with at least 101 variations, maybe more, even in a blue-collar diner. I had expected it to be simply a case of big cup, little cup, black white, sugar, no sugar, but coffee is a very complicated and serious matter in the United States and cannot be taken lightly. Oh, that’s another option: type of milk. Full fat, half fat, low fat, no fat, dribblings from the teat of the last remaining goat in the Himalayas, flown in fresh that morning, the list goes on and on. In some of the racier chains, you can lose your will to drink by the time the list is exhausted. I settled for a large Coffee Regular. That’s a big cup, coffee, milk and two sugars. Just how God intended. Of course, I would have preferred a cup of tea… but let’s not go there. Americans don’t understand tea. Camomile is for washing hair, not for drinking. OK? OK.
Now it came to my turn. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, all very tempting, I had to admit, but there was only one thing I had ever wanted to eat in America and that was a Cheese Steak. It may seem rather bizarre but I have drooled over the concept of cheese steaks for years and I wasn’t going to pass on my first chance ever to order one. And coffee. I was in the New World. I could drink coffee. There, I’d done it. My first Cheese Steak was minutes away: my first proper American meal, no less!
I was feeling quite smug and very pleased with myself and then I was asked how I liked my coffee. My initial thought was in a cup but I knew Denis Leary’s coffee sketch very well, and I knew that was not what he meant. I asked what the options were and it seemed I was faced with at least 101 variations, maybe more, even in a blue-collar diner. I had expected it to be simply a case of big cup, little cup, black white, sugar, no sugar, but coffee is a very complicated and serious matter in the United States and cannot be taken lightly. Oh, that’s another option: type of milk. Full fat, half fat, low fat, no fat, dribblings from the teat of the last remaining goat in the Himalayas, flown in fresh that morning, the list goes on and on. In some of the racier chains, you can lose your will to drink by the time the list is exhausted. I settled for a large Coffee Regular. That’s a big cup, coffee, milk and two sugars. Just how God intended. Of course, I would have preferred a cup of tea… but let’s not go there. Americans don’t understand tea. Camomile is for washing hair, not for drinking. OK? OK.
The Cheese Steak is a thing of beauty and I watched as Jim (middle in the picture), proprietor of The Lunch Box, prepared it. Steak hit the griddle. Jim flipped it. Jim patted it. Jim tenderised it. Jim sliced it into strips.
Next to the steak was placed a mixture of onions, peppers, which fried alongside the strips of steak. Slices of pepperoni were added and they too sizzled, causing me to drool like some Chuck Jones cartoon character. When everything was cooked through, the peppers, pepperoni and steak were all combined in a mound on the hotplate and slices of assorted cheese were placed on top and allowed to melt. A ffrench stick was sliced open lengthways and the mouth-watering delicacy placed inside and served with chips on the side.
I ended up having one of these amazing creations each day I was in Union. By the last day, Fish decided to forsake his eggs and bacon for the delights of the Cheese Steak too, and wished he’d had one earlier. Not exactly slimmers’ food, I’ll grant you but, Jesus tap-dancing Christ, it was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had in my mouth!
Next to the steak was placed a mixture of onions, peppers, which fried alongside the strips of steak. Slices of pepperoni were added and they too sizzled, causing me to drool like some Chuck Jones cartoon character. When everything was cooked through, the peppers, pepperoni and steak were all combined in a mound on the hotplate and slices of assorted cheese were placed on top and allowed to melt. A ffrench stick was sliced open lengthways and the mouth-watering delicacy placed inside and served with chips on the side.
I ended up having one of these amazing creations each day I was in Union. By the last day, Fish decided to forsake his eggs and bacon for the delights of the Cheese Steak too, and wished he’d had one earlier. Not exactly slimmers’ food, I’ll grant you but, Jesus tap-dancing Christ, it was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had in my mouth!
The thing I liked about this particular place was that it was so normal. No playing up to the tourists, fake smiles and bullshit. This was everyday life. Terrence (far left in the pic) and Bill (far right in the picture) were just regular guys serving food in a diner. The guy sat next to us at the counter was a postal worker, across the aisle was a factory worker. The guy who came in later was the local County Sheriff. This was the trip to the US I had always envisaged. Meeting real people, finding out what it was really like in the land of opportunity.
Rural New Jersey
Have you seen The Sopranos? What do you mean, “NO!”? Have you been living in a cave, or under a rock?
Well, Union and the area around it is prime Soprano’s country. If you watch the intro sequence, you will see that on Tony’s drive home from across the river, he exits the Turnpike at Elizabeth, a mile or two down the road. Union is such a tranquil little burg, it’s untrue. I would love to live here. You are half an hour from Manhattan, yet it is so rural and peaceful. For all I know, this is heaven.
Just a few yards down the road is a bar, very Cheers like, called Suspenders. Here you see Ush and Chig in suspenders.
Cheap joke but I like it! This bar had three different sports channels on simultaneously. Each one showing a different college ball game. I could have stayed here forever. Our bartender, the lovely Candy, made us feel very welcome, in spite of Usher being there!
Click here for reviews and pictures of Saturday's events
Click here for reviews and pictures of Sunday's events
Rural New Jersey
Have you seen The Sopranos? What do you mean, “NO!”? Have you been living in a cave, or under a rock?
Well, Union and the area around it is prime Soprano’s country. If you watch the intro sequence, you will see that on Tony’s drive home from across the river, he exits the Turnpike at Elizabeth, a mile or two down the road. Union is such a tranquil little burg, it’s untrue. I would love to live here. You are half an hour from Manhattan, yet it is so rural and peaceful. For all I know, this is heaven.
Just a few yards down the road is a bar, very Cheers like, called Suspenders. Here you see Ush and Chig in suspenders.
Cheap joke but I like it! This bar had three different sports channels on simultaneously. Each one showing a different college ball game. I could have stayed here forever. Our bartender, the lovely Candy, made us feel very welcome, in spite of Usher being there!
Click here for reviews and pictures of Saturday's events
Click here for reviews and pictures of Sunday's events
