By Jeremy Olshan  

At an early age, waiters were my teachers, and place-mats were my textbooks.

In fact, everything I needed to know I learned at the diner:

Oratory skills: "I will have a burger deluxe, medium, please."
Arithmetic: Fifteen percent tip equals double the tax.
Chemistry: To make a Black Russian, mix one jigger of vodka with one jigger of kahlua.
Global studies: French toast, French fries, Spanish omelet, English muffin, Belgian waffle, Greek salad.
Physics: Salt shakers can defy gravity.
Nutrition: A diet burger is served with cottage cheese instead of French fries
Music: "Three selections for $1."
Romance: Sharing a shake.
Breaking up: "Check please."

Diners are easy to take for granted. They are an institution so consistent, so ubiquitous, so fattening, and so uniquely American, that we would be lost — if not less — without them.

Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

Much more than our appetites, they fill a void in our culture, they connect our collective dots, they tie-up our loose ends, and perhaps most importantly, they serve us breakfast all day.

If jazz is America’s great musical legacy, then perhaps the diner is our great culinary one.

From its humble beginnings and democratic ideals, to the influence of immigrants and its efforts to reconcile the individual with the mass-produced, the history of the diner parallels that of the nation that invented it.

In 1872, a Rhode Islander named Walter Scott began serving meals and snacks to factory workers from a horse-drawn "lunch wagon." The ancestor of not only the diner, but the modern day street vendor, this lunch wagon became popular because it brought inexpensive food directly to the workplace.

Twenty years later, Thomas Buckley of Worcester, Mass. began producing lunch wagons with the backing of Cornelius Vanderbilt. But the word "diner" is reserved for the stationary versions of these lunch wagons, which began appearing in residential and commercial areas in the early 1920’s.

But where does a diner end and a restaurant begin? Is it the neon "steaks, chops, seafood" sign, or is it the particular brand of silverware and cottage cheese? Actually the diner is not so easy to define. Particularly in New York, where the meaning has been blurred to encompass everything from Cheeseburgers to Chinese.

Diner-saurs Mario and Lucille Monti. Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

For the purist, the matter is simple. Diner guru Randy Garbin, the publisher of Roadside Magazine, defines the classic diner as "a prefabricated structure with counter service, hauled out to its site." These diners were manufactured, mostly in New Jersey, by companies like Paramount, Fodero, Kullman, Mountain View, Swingle, Bixler, Sterling and Starlite. The diners are shipped to their new homes in modular units, and all the owner has to do is "plug it in."

But this strict definition would eliminate the majority of Queens diners, with the exception of classic structures like the Deerhead in Astoria, Jackson Hole in Jackson Heights, the Saravan in Flushing, and the Belle Rose in Bellerose.

However, most diner enthusiasts expand the definition to also include the ‘retro’ diners, newly made to look like the classics, and the even newer diner/restaurants.

For Forest Hills residents Mario and Lucille Monti, diners are more than a meal, they’re a mission.

Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

The self proclaimed "John the Baptist of Diners," Mario has become the local prophet for the preservation of our booths, counters, and dessert carousels.

He, his wife, and his fellow "diner-saurs" meet on the second Wednesday of every month at the Seville Diner in Douglaston. They set out to preserve the unique character and history of local diners. Call it the "cult of the greasy spoon."

Monti has recently begun compiling a national directory of diners, searching from California to New York Island. His definition is much more lenient than the purists.

"Diners are the kind of places where the waitresses call you Honey," said Monti.

But what inspires someone to become a "diner-saur?"

Growing up in Queens, Monti’s diner of choice was the Maspeth Diner on 69th and Grand Avenue.

The Flagship Diner in Kew Gardens has long been a landmark in the neighborhood. Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

Mario met Lucille in the 1950’s when they were both studying at Queens College. Both were lifelong teachers, but it was not until after retirement that the pair became students of the diner.

Together the two turn all of their vacations into classic diner hunts.

"Now, whenever we go to visit friends and family around the country, they take us to diners," said Lucille.

But the couple is not concerned with the prospect of never again being taken to a four-star restaurant.

"To me," said Mario. "They are all four star."

The two are so committed to the cause, in fact, that they never give up an opportunity to explore a new diner.

Once, when visiting friends in Minnesota, their flight was delayed for several hours. Mario had been told about a classic diner about 50 miles away, so he and Lucille left the airport, headed to the diner, had a quick meal, and returned just in time for their flight back home.

The Deerhead Diner in Astoria is an extremely well preserved Paramount diner from the 1960’s. Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

According to the Montis, there had previously been much talk about the danger of losing many of the nation’s classic diners, but as a result of their new found popularity, and an increased "nostalgia for stainless steel," this has become less and less a concern. However there are situations all over the nation and the borough in which classic diners were unfortunately "renovated".

For the most part, Mario says he is easy to please.

"To me, there is nothing better than sitting down at the counter and watching them cook right in front of you," said Mario.

In a time without real social gathering places, the Montis say the diners have taken on this function. After all where else can you order one cup of coffee and talk for several hours? "They encourage and accommodate families, and this has been essential now that more and more people go out for dinner," said Lucille.

Currently hard at work on his national diner directory, Mario says that while his favorite diner meal is "meatloaf with mashed potatoes," the dish that he tends to use as a basis for comparison is "lemon meringue pie."

In Queens, as a result of our ethnic diversity, the menus and ambience at our diners differs in many ways from the traditional "Roadside" diner.

For one, the menus at our diners are generally 12 to 15 time larger than the traditional truck stop, and they include pretty much everything under the culinary sun. But while various chefs in Queens have helped to reshape the classic institution, they do so while remaining true to the staples: burgers, fries, and milkshakes.

Tribune Photos By Lee Katzman

Queens diners range from the subtle to the extravagant. Take the recently renovated Georgia Diner in Elmhurst. After spending $1 million on the diner’s makeover, the Georgia now looks as though it would feel right at home on the Vegas strip.

Other Queens diners have also been in the news recently. The Scobee Diner in Little Neck, was where newly appointed CIA Director George Tenet learned his work ethic. And the Jackson Hole diner had a starring role in Martin Scorsese’s acclaimed film, "Goodfellas."

Queens residents are generally loyal to one or several neighborhood diners, but Monti stressed that it is often worth venturing around the rest of the borough.

Monti’s review of Queens diners was featured in Issue 25 of Roadside magazine, and as the editor notes: "Queens diners reflect Queens itself — diverse, proud, and welcoming."