New Amsterdam
Diner
234 State Highway 30 (just south of Thruway Exit 27), Amsterdam,
842-1522. Always open. AE, D, MC, V.
Cuisine: Dineraunt,
but especially good.
Entrée price range: $8 (Baked eggplant rollatini) to $22
(surf and turf).
Ambience: Diner
Clientele: Diner
Follow the Mohawk
River west from Waterford and you encounter a string of dying cities,
a tribute to the boom and bust wrought by the Erie Canal. Even after
canal trade was superseded by over-the-road (and rail) shipping,
cities like Schenectady, Amsterdam, Little Falls, Utica and Rome
continued for several decades to thrive as business and manufacturing
centers. Now they cling to whatever vestiges of economic opportunity
they can summon. Amsterdam’s former rug factories are shells,
and downtown Amsterdam’s most visible entity is a failed mall
that confounds traffic.
Take the Amsterdam
exit (27) of the NYS Thruway, turn left on Route 30 and make a quick
left into the parking lot of Super 8 Motel and you’ll see
the sprawling New Amsterdam Diner, reopened not quite three months
ago after many years dark—and with a terrible reputation even
before that.
Right now it’s
one of those gems where the food is far better than the location
and appearance would suggest.
“A friend
showed me the place,” says chef John Papis. “I had restaurants
in Manhattan and I wanted to get away from there. Too much excitement.
Here you have fresh air, a beautiful view. . . .”
The history
of diners in this country begins with portable carts parked in familiar
locations, soon giving way to shacks and converted railroad cars.
It was acknowledgment, as cars moved faster on ever-more-accommodating
roads, that people on the go always need to stop and eat.
Regional specialties
have been eclipsed by standardized fast-food joints, but a diner-cum-restaurant
such as the New Amsterdam gives you a shot at something cooked for
you right then and there.
Smokers congregate
at the bar; I head left for the nonsmoking room and its dozen or
so tables and booths. The local radio station, country, of course,
plays in the place—relying on such aging stars as Johnny Cash
and Merle Haggard, which is fine with me.
You’ll
pass a display case with revolving displays of pies and cakes. When
I see key lime pie and rich New York cheesecake, I know not to eat
too much dinner.
White-linen
restaurants seek a niche in which to flourish; the diner approach
tries for total culinary coverage. The New Amsterdam Diner’s
multipage menu features two pages of always-available breakfast,
with plenty of omelet variety (including a vegetarian frittata)
in the $5 to $6 range. Similarly, the pancake and waffle variety
is unique—a $7 tutti-frutti waffle sports bananas, strawberries,
apples and raisins.
The core of
the offerings are the entrées, which is where I put in the
most exploration. Each time I discovered a soup that was homemade
and nicely balanced between stock and ingredients, from a simple
(but chunky) chicken noodle to minestrone, Yankee bean and some
commendable chowder.
Of course it’s
arrogant to term a dish “the best baked meat loaf,”
but it’s an arrogance I find endearing. The $10 entrée
includes a house salad (soup is offered as an alternative) and potato
and vegetable (my daughter had french fries, of course, and ignored
her peas). The dish itself features a mix of meat and herbs that
ranks it extremely high in the meat loaf pantheon. It’s irresistible.
It’s not
just roast chicken: It has an apple-walnut stuffing ($10). Greek
moussaka ($10), although not served en casserole, obviously was
prepared in one, because the flavors of the ground beef and thin-slice
potatoes had plenty of opportunity to mix with the eggplant and
crusty béchamel sauce. The portion I sampled was a little
saltier than I prefer, but the balance was otherwise terrific.
More ambitious
is the chicken breast Milanese ($15), which sports a huge portion
of chicken surrounding a center of prosciutto and spinach, topped
with fontina cheese. Not what I think of as diner fare, yet it was
presented with accomplishment (and real mashed potatoes). Likewise,
an order of broiled scallops in a lemon-butter sauce ($13), which
typically gets way too much heat, was cooked and presented just
right. The only entrée disappointment I’ve had was
with an order of spanakopita ($10), and only then because the phyllo
pastry didn’t suffer reheating very well.
Botticelli’s
“Birth of Venus” adorns a booth-adjoining wall; Raphael’s
cherubs overlook another. Yet the artwork seems almost haphazard,
and contrasts amusingly with the simple wooden tables and booths.
Chairs, by the way, are sturdy and comfortable, but the place would
benefit from a more thorough refurbishment. Still, these are cosmetic
issues that fade once the food is put in front of you.
And the food
will be put in front of you. I haven’t seen the same servers
twice during a succession of visits, but as long as Mercy is on
the floor, you’ll be taken care of. Not only is she a genius
at selling you on menu items, she’s also genuinely concerned
with your satisfaction and isn’t bashful about checking in—the
kind of service that is all too rare these days, even in the fancier
joints.
With any luck,
others on other shifts will copy her techniques. Right now, business
is slow and the staff can support. With any luck, the place will
get busier (I pass it regularly and thus have a selfish wish to
see it remain open), and I’m hoping the current level of good
customer care will be maintained.