Silk City Classic

From the Food Vault Dept.: I’m not sure where the reference to 1939 you’ll see below came from; according to fairly reliable sources, the structure we’re talking about arrived at 21 Frontage Road in Glenmont in 1962, a classic Silk City diner that initially was christened the Miss Glenmont. Then it became Johnny B’s in 2005, operating until 2020, when it became a pandemic victim. The building’s fate remains uncertain, with some locals wishing to save the structure even as a neighboring Stewart’s eyes it as an expansion site. Here’s what I found there 20 years ago.

                                                                                         

WE ARRIVED ON THE HEELS of a party of six that clogged the entryway. Just ahead of them was a party of five, sitting at the counter. Servers bustled by us, arms laden with breakfast goodies. Most of the tables looked crowded. It seemed hopeless.

A recent Google Street View
view of the building.

The crowd shifted slightly. A table bobbed by us, carried by a server who used it to fashion room for six at a booth for four. And suddenly we were beckoned to a booth.

That we were placed between the party of six and the party of five was of little consequence. As I contemplated the menu, I didn’t succumb to the urge to reach behind me and grab the cell phone out of the numbskull’s hand (you’re dining with five others and you need to shout into a phone to somebody else?). Nor did I slap the child with the party of five who erupted into tears from time to time, impervious to his mom’s half-hearted there-theres. I was in too good of a mood.

Besides: It’s a diner. It’s Sunday. It’s slack-cutting time.

Uncle Milty’s has been serving the Glenmont area, in one form or another, since 1939. Until nine years ago, it was the Miss Glenmont Diner; now it’s run by Milty Pappas and sisters Fifi and Frederica Fotiu, with Milty helming the stoves and the Fotius running the floor.

Once we were seated and coffee and tea started to flow, life seemed better still. We contemplated the offerings and studied the plates being served around us to come up with an order.

It’s a simple menu, livened by specials. Smoked salmon eggs Benedict with asparagus spears ($8) is popular one – popular enough that it was sold out by the time we arrived. Cheese blintzes ($7), potato pancakes with apple sauce and sour cream ($6) and a variety of waffles are also big brunch movers.

Otherwise, you’ve always got eggs for $3-$6 with various sides (bacon, hash, sausage, you know the drill), and omelettes ($4.55-$6) – all served with potatoes and toast. Pancakes and French toast and an array of baked goods also are available.

And that’s just the breakfast end of things. Soups and salads and the house special chili are available; over two dozen sandwiches cover hot to cold varieties with the usual variety of fillings as well as clubs, grilled monstrosities, meatloaf and even a sirloin steak sandwich.

Uncle Milty’s burgers have won renown; those, too, come in a wide variety that includes a vegetarian filling.

As I noted last week, the origins of eggs Benedict have retreated into the mist of time, but it’s generally thought that a Wall Street broker named Lemuel Benedict sought to soothe a hangover back in 1894 while breakfasting at the Waldorf Hotel, and asked for an assembly of toast, bacon, eggs and hollandaise sauce – a formula that was changed slightly to include an English muffin and a slice of ham or Canadian bacon.

It’s a dish that lives or dies on the strength of its sauce. Hollandaise sauce is an emulsion of egg yolks, lemon juice (or vinegar) and butter, with appropriate seasonings, prepared hot (mayonnaise is a cold version, using oil instead of butter). It’s therefore a fat-rich sauce, which means it coats your palate in such a way that flavors seem to linger forever. That’s what makes it appealingly tasty.

The Uncle Milty’s version (which includes Canadian bacon) gives you a straight-ahead version that will certainly cheer the palate, and Susan’s order was completed with a serving of standard home-fries.

Our daughter is a waffle fan, and those weekends when I’m persuaded to make them she’s right there helping, measuring flour, adding leavening, even helping to separate eggs. But we use a conventional iron, so she was unprepared for the sight of the Belgian waffle that headed her way ($5.75), with its puffier-than-expected surface. Not that much of it could be glimpsed beneath the strawberries and whipped cream rendered it Alpine looking.

It was as if the gods of breakfast had answered her most secret prayer. Whipped cream! For the main course! Right in front of her parents! No going wrong with this dish.

I ordered a bacon burger deluxe platter with cheese ($6.55), the deluxe features of which were a side of fries and some salad fixings. I’m most partial to burgers that clearly originate from scratch; this was a bit too symmetrical to be hand-shaped, but it was good-sized and cooked to my specification (medium-rare: I live dangerously in this era of awful meat-packing). So I’d rate this one of the better burger bargains in the area.

The crowd thinned as closing time approached – “but you can come in at 2 o’clock and still get served,” Milty later assured me. We were well taken care of, and wish only that this diner were closer to our house.

Breakfast for three, with tax and tip and beverages, was $28.

Uncle Milty’s Diner, Route 9W, Glenmont, 434-xxxx. A classic silver diner with a big breakfast and lunch menu along with frequent specials like eggs Benedict, cheese blintzes and potato pancakes. And the burgers are good, too. Serving Tue-Sun 7-2. Cash and personal checks.

– Metroland Magazine, 2 May 2002