Mama's Daughters' Diner E-mail
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Monday, 02 April 2007 00:00
Law Reviewers Enjoy Mama’s Daughters’ Diner, Words Ending With S’s
By Michael Anderson and Anthony Lowenberg
 
Ah, technology. We read recently that 43.5% of all new television owners with HD-ready sets believe they are actually watching HD television, even when they have failed to purchase and connect the necessary HD equipment. The other 60% are watching their radios. Sometimes it’s nice to just simplify. The same is true of food. Sometimes you have a hankering for simple, honest, good ol’ fashion’d, artery-cloggin’ home cookin’ (with lots of apostrophes to boot). Well sir, Mama’s Daughters’ Diner has all that in spades (including the apostrophes). The only thing that would make the place more down-home is if you could wash your meal off with a jar of Uncle Jessie’s moonshine to a narration by Waylon Jennings
 
The Diner has several locations around the Metroplex to help you satisfy your down-home fix. We checked out the location on 2014 Irving Blvd., which we’re told (by their website) is the original location, for lunch on a Friday. It was quite packed, so no worries about the secret getting out about this place. And no surprises about the d?cor either. It’s standard diner chic, with velour-covered booths, beige dishes that are older than you and florescent lights a-flickering. The walls are covered with plenty of pictures of the owners, the staff and their friends and family. Next to our booth there was even a photo of our waitress with Brooks & Dunn. We understand her photo with Toby Keith is still being framed.
 
The service has diner efficiency down to a science. Brisk but friendly waitresses expediently shuttle patrons through their meals while threading back and forth through a maze of tables and balancing trays stacked with enough short order entr?es to make Alice blush. One waitress even upped the degree of difficulty by wearing Ray Charles-style sunglasses, which received some gasps of admiration from us but won her no points with the Russian judge. Also, the gentleman who shows you to your table resembles a short version of the drug kingpin’s henchman from “Clear and Present Danger,” popular Portuguese actor Joaquim de Almeida (a/k/a the Latin Phil Hartman).  We think you need to know these things.
 
And the food was surprisingly good in light of the dirt cheap prices. Our group all had daily specials, which, for around $7, get you an entr?e and a choice of three sides. We tried the chicken fried steak which, like most, was a little chewy, but the batter was crisp and nicely seasoned and covered in creamy gravy. Sides of turnip greens had a nice bite, the buttered squash was pleasant and the candied yams were almost sweet enough to replace dessert. The meatloaf was tender and moist, but we could have done without the sauce that covered it, which resembled vegetable soup. Our friend had the catfish, which was flaky and moist and also had a nice crunchy breading. There really wasn’t any room left for dessert, but after looking at the chalkboard listing of the Diner’s homemade pies, we couldn’t resist trying them. The coconut cream pie looked delicious and was topped with a nice, fluffy meringue, but, unfortunately, it tasted slightly sour. Lemon pie was serviceable, but the winner was the pecan pie, served ? la mode. Such warm, creamy, gooey, molasses-y goodness tasted too good to be true. As Waylon would have said, we left about as full and bloated as Boss Hogg after a Fourth of July barbeque, but the tab only came to around $10 each, and we were back at our desks an hour later ready for an afternoon nap.
 
Mama's Daughters' Diner may not serve high-falutin’, fancy lawyer food, but it does serve good food at a really great price and in an efficient manner. On our high tech five-gavel scale, where five gavels is a 65 inch, 1080i HD tuner plasma with HDMI connection and one gavel is having no idea what we just typed, we give Mama’s Daughters' Diner four gavels, or a nice, big television that you can watch pretty pictures on in color. Y’all come back now, ya’hear!
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