To Taste Tradition. Part 1: The Owl Diner

To taste tradition is to taste a family, a generation, a town, a city, a culture, even a country. This food has soul. It has energy and life. The different spices that lend to its perfection are evidence of years of work toward a taste just right.

While McDonald’s may be the actual symbol of America and many of its people, there is plenty of tradition in the millions of nooks and crannies in each and every place around.

In Lowell, Massachusetts, the Owl Diner (originally located in Waltham, Mass.) is a symbol of tradition. It began for me several years ago when my parents first introduced me to the diner, which actually looks like a mobile home. Our move from Chelmsford to Westford over 10 years made this tradition ongoing, and my last visit was just a few weekends ago.

We went on a Sunday morning (well, I believe it was around 12:00 or 1:00 p.m.) before the diner closed at 2:00 p.m. Still the parking lot, which is very small but has been extended with a nearby lot, was filled but one space. I nabbed the last spot and walked inside to find the Owl Diner still hoping at 1:00 p.m.

A bit unfamiliar with the menu, two things immediately jumped out at me: the side of ham and one of the specials, the Hawaiian Omelette. Now, I am a huge advocate of Hawaiian anything. Be it be pizza, calzone, beaches, women, or some obscure fruit, it’s all great. So after a 20 minute internal debacle, I chose the Hawaiian Omelette over the EVERYTHING omelette (kind of like a Mexican oblate with salsa and then everything else). I did request the addition of peppers and onions though to make the Hawaiian a little more complete.

The ham was served as two large, thick slices. We also got a single blueberry pancake, and as a liker but not a lover of pancakes, I was more than satisfied and took it down. I also devoured the ham, which I covered with syrup, and the omelette with much less a struggle than one would imagine.

My girlfriend filled up much faster on the Eggs Benedict, which also came served over another leg of ham, which I had some of.

Oh and the baked beans. We ordered a small side of the beans, and they were as expected. Basically just one half of that awesome childhood dish, cut up franks and beans.

The Hawaiian Omelette, which of course consists of ham and pineapple without my additions, was delicious. The pineapple added a warm sweetness underneath the ham and cheese.
After finishing off my orange juice and coffee, I sat in the old booth, which had been ripped in the center and stapled back together, bloated and hunched over like I was 10 years old again after another satisfying, traditional meal at the Owl Diner.