The clientele witnessed on our recent visit may have suggested or even brought in some of the posters and stickers that deck the walls within. We were, after all, the youngest of those dining this particular afternoon. I attribute that to the time of day (1:15 p.m.) more than to the local population.
Molly's Diner has been on my get-back-to list for three years now. Mentioned in the pie book, the day job and work on the two subsequent tomes we've managed to get out have kept me from Bradley County's rolling hills. The famed pies greatly represent our state's love for the pastry-clad filling-packed vessels we love so much.
Our waitress directed us to sit where we liked, and after attempting one seat particularly perched at an angle that had me almost fall over the back of my seat I moved around to the far side of the table I shared with photographer Grav Weldon this chilly February afternoon. She asked if we were interested in one of the lunch specials, which included a Mexican plate (a crispito covered in chili and cheese, a taco, chips and dip and a small salad), country fried steak or beef tips with mashed potatoes, snap beans tossed salad and a roll -- or if we'd like to peruse the menu. That's what we chose.
Said menu is full of its own cryptic glory, with suggestions of Mother's Chicken Salad Sandwich, 15 different burgers and a Suicide Po'Boy, in ham or chicken. Wait, what?
"It's the owner's son's thing," our waitress told us. "He came up with different sandwiches."
Dylan's creation sounded like a Fat Darrell, a creation I learned of years ago while watching CBS Sunday Morning -- a combination of fried cheese sticks, chicken tenders and French fries created and often ordered by Darrell W. Butler, a student at Rutgers University for whom the sandwich was named. This sounded like a challenge I should at least attempt.
Grav, on the other hand, eyed the 15 burgers on the menu and settled on a Double Beltbuster, a two-patty construction declared "really big" by our waitress. After all, that'd take care of lunch and dinner, and maybe breakfast for us.
Under the old fashioned large-bulbed Christmas lights tacked to the restaurant's ceiling, time moved slowly. It could have been 2015 or 1985, no matter. For a few moments, as I sucked on tea and fiddled with the settings on my camera, I wondered if such galacial pacing would also affect service.
The waitress had not been wrong. Grav's burger appeared to be two ten ounce hand patted beef patties almost an inch
Mine took a moment to visually digest. Yes, it appeared brown and fried.
I'm not sure I'd order it again. It was hearty and made me feel naughty and had a good flavor, but so much food was betwixt those buns... and of such
Oh, that menu's below, by the way.
I would be sincerely remiss if I did not mention Molly's Diner's marvelous fresh-fried potato chips. I have, after all, been introduced with all sorts of house-fresh
Of course, the repast and prying eyes around checked our modesty, and we decided to forgo a slice from the handwritten menu of half a dozen pies. They'll be there next time, though, and them pie will be mine.
The next time, though, we'll come for breakfast. And it won't be three years. Indeed, I believe we'll return in June, when the season's first tomatoes are celebrated at the world-renown Bradley County Pink Tomato Festival. Until then, I shall dream of that homey, humble space and consider the possibilities of 14 other burgers, breakfast platters and the kinder and less profane suggestions on the walls.
201 South Myrtle
Warren, AR 71671
201 South Myrtle
Warren, AR 71671