Ode to the New Jersey Diner

We got to spend the weekend watching hockey. Not the Rangers (although they did beat the hated Flyers today), but the hockey of boy 1 and boy 2. Which occurred in two states, one of them being New Jersey. Which, if you didn't know, is a big place. We ended up in a place called Bridgewater, NJ. Do not confuse this with Bridgewater, CT on Google maps if you plan to get to the game on time. Which the lovely wife reminded me not to do, and so we made it, but barely.

We spent the night at the Bridgewater Marriott, which was not like staying in Val d'isere. Although I must give the Marriott people props on their mattresses; they are always comfortable. Because a hockey team's entougrage is quite large, even on the pee-wee level, we ate at the hotel restaurant Saturday night; a place called T-Bones. If you ever find yourself at the Marriott in Bridgewater, NJ, the steak is actually edible. Having said that, we asked our waiter to go "off the board" and were able to rustle up some decent burgers and fries for ourselves. The lesson: always ask, they can only say no. Amazingly enough, beer is much cheaper at the Marriott in New Jersey than at a grocery store in Manhattan.

After a fitful night of sleep, and with some time before the next game (oh yes, there were three to play in New Jersey alone this weekend), we set out to eat breakfast in that most venerable of institutions, the New Jersey Diner. There is even a website devoted to this cause. On Route 22, we were able to find the Bridgewater Diner. I had the number 4: $7.50 for two eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage and coffee. I think that pretty much sums it up. Again, not the greatest culinary experience ever, but likely the best of the neighborhood. A blogger called the "Message Whore" agrees.