Goodbye to the Smoky Yolk diner
“Actually, yes, please, I would like the pastrami corned-beef hash on the side – extra brown, extra peppers. Perfect complement to my Prime Benny. May want to hold the cheesy grits, though, but I’d love a side of maple and a large strawberry shake. Man needs his fruit!” “Whip cream?” “Oh, I think, absolutely.” It wasn’t a novel conversation. I used to entertain similar, equally weighty questions at least three times a week here. But I do recall thinking, then, and many times previously: if one is scarfing a monster shake at 7:30 on a Tuesday morning, is whipped cream really your most likely coronary catalyst? (Always skip the cherry; nothing found in nature – even adjacent to nature – can achieve such brilliant degrees of radiation red.
