The Crown Diner – like most people in the Bronx – has more than one alias. Ask for the Crown Restaurant, Crown Donuts or just the Crown and you’ll end up in the same place.
Maybe that’s why everyone eventually finds a seat where it always smells like mop water and fresh donuts and perfectly-cooked bacon.
“I come for the cheese,” explained Javier from Walton Avenue. “It’s always a three-cheese omelet for breakfast and a grilled-cheese sandwich for lunch and a cheeseburger for dinner.”
“It’s too bad you can’t pitch like you can eat,” snapped Jon from Highbridge. “Then we would all be eating prime rib.”
The guys sitting at the counter laughed.
“You think that’s funny?” asked Javier. “None of you would have had the guts to step in against me. I threw high cheese back in the day.”
No one doubts anything said at the Crown and that’s taken very seriously.
“I’m sorry to get out of line,” said Jon. “I was just kidding.”
“That’s nothing to kid about,” said Javier. “Never question a man’s word or his fastball.”
Those are words to live by in any place.