Just after sunrise, the pensioners and retirees start to trickle in to the Golden Diner in downtown Toronto, early enough to snag their favourite tables.
Then it’s the nine-to-fivers who come for a quick breakfast before heading to their day jobs.
By 10:10 a.m., every chrome-edged bar stool and slide-in booth is occupied. At this relic of a restaurant that’s been at the corner of Jarvis and Carlton Streets since 1967, the mix of people and personalities is a fascinating snapshot of the city itself: There’s a guy who works at the Oasis Aqualounge sex club around the corner, an X-ray technologist from a nearby hospital, a flight attendant from Dubai, and a young couple from Sault Ste. Marie who Googled “old-school diner” and ended up here, eating steak and eggs.
What they love about this kitschy place, with its Formica tables, mint green walls, and faux leather seats, is that it feels familiar and safe. Diners, from their humble beginnings as food wagons serving blue-collar workers at the turn of the 19th century, now provide a rare sense of continuity. As retiree Martin Brown puts it: “I’ve been coming for 20 years, and it hasn’t changed.
“With all the craziness going on in the world, this place represents stability,” says Brown, who can be found at his table in the back, at least three times a week. “It’s grounding for me.”
Sadly, in recent years, many beloved old-school diners in cities and towns across Canada have become casualties of modern times, their lights dimmed because of a variety of reasons from the rise of fast food, the effects of the COVID pandemic and escalating rents. So far, Golden Diner has managed to buck that trend. Here, people of all ages, backgrounds and beliefs can gather, get a home-cooked meal, and feel a little less alone.
“Diners are way more than just affordable places to eat, they are community connectors,” says Dwain Bennett, who works in construction. “You can come in and truly feel part of something … When you say, ‘Good morning,’ or ‘Good afternoon’ to someone, they don’t look at you like you’re out of your mind.”
Loyal customers such as Bettina Brunnhuber and her 11-year-old son Hunter, are also grateful Golden Diner is still around.
“I would much rather support a small business like this than a fast-food joint,” says Brunnhuber. As their waiter Roy Way swings by with two heaping plates of classic breakfast, the mom looks at her son, munching on a slice of watermelon. “Coming here is one of our favourite things to do together,” she says. “I just hope that diners like this are still around when Hunter’s grown up, so he can share this kind of experience with his own kids.”
Over the span of 10 hours, The Globe spoke with customers who shared what the diner means to them. Turns out, the humble greasy spoon is a safe haven, a place where they all feel at home.
