Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, February 28, 1995 TAG: 9502280074
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: KATHLEEN WILSON
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
There was one thing Lloyd Crenshaw and Craig Anderson could rave over breakfast Monday morning at brand spanking new Star City Diner.
``There was no long wait,'' said Craig.
Small wonder.
At 6:15 a.m., Lloyd and Craig carved out a place for themselves in Roanoke history.
Years from now, the two can say they were the first two to eat at this much-ballyhooed eatery on the corner of Jefferson and Campbell in downtown Roanoke.
``We sure got rns out Craig sent his eggs back. Twice.
``But we'll be back tomorrow morning,'' promised Craig.
Lloyd and Craig had ordered the country fried steak with eggs ($4.25). Both men were coming off the night shift and on their way home.
``Our burgers are so fresh, they moo on the griddle.''
Night shifters comprised most of the opening day crack-of-dawn crowd.
``You know the very best thing about this place?'' declared a 70-year-old man chowing down on eggs Benedict ($4.98). ``You can eat anything on this menu. Anything. Any time of day. It really ticks me off that at McDonald's they don't serve lunch until 10:30 or don't start serving breakfast at Hardee's until 3 a.m. or whatever. I can't keep it all straight. Here you can get anything. Anytime.
``Now that I totally approve of.''
His name?
``Michelle,'' he said, looking me straight in the eye.
Oh, come on! I've almost - and I mean only almost - adjusted to living in a town filled with men named Beverly, Shirley and Carroll. But Michelle?!
``My last name,'' said B.V. Michel, with a twinkle in his eye.
A retired and disabled state employee, B.V. gets up every morning at 4 to drive his wife to work. Then he goes out in search of breakfast.
B.V., who hails from Boston, loves restaurants and food. After all of his surgery, ``the only main pleasure I have left is eating.''
Sitting in a bright red booth, B.V. shared tales of his colorful life. A retired teacher - who once taught at Roanoke Catholic and Patrick Henry - the man speaks seven foreign languages.
Seven.
French, German, Russian, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish and Mandarin Chinese. (He majored in French and minored in German at UVa.)
When he was called to WWII, B.V. actually requested duty in France, figuring his language skills would come in handy.
``Nope, instead they sent me to a mine sweeper in Japan,'' he said. ``Just about the only language I didn't speak was Japanese.''
``If you think your booth is dirty, you'd better avoid the kitchen.''
B.V. loved the Star City Diner. Said it reminded him Shoney's in Norfolk back in the `60s, when the waitresses roller-skated your food to your table.
Paul Hackett stopped on his way to work at the Tread Corp. to pick up three biscuit sandwiches to go.
Paul turned out to be the closest thing to a nightmare customer any brand new restaurant could have on an opening day.
He paid with a hundred dollar bill.
He got his change back mostly in ones.
``Our Big Lick dessert is better than sex.''
The decor is vintage Macher. You'll find a real phone booth - with a door and everything! - just like the one Clark Kent would strip down to his Superman tights in. You'll find Elvis in the ladies' room; Marilyn Monroe in the men's.
Giant boxes of Kellogg's Corn Flakes, Rice Krispies, Cream Sicles, Morton Salt, and Sealtest chocolate milk dangle from the ceiling, along with a big ole inflatable Oscar Meyer wiener and a rubber chicken.
(Alas, the only disappointment is that the big hunk o' Velveeta is misspelled.)
Kim Dube, Rhonda Shively, Susan Doerfler and Robin Fitzgerald - all registered nurses coming off the night shift at Roanoke Memorial Hospital - were seated in the ``Yabba-dabba-toonville'' room, marveling at the low, low prices and the size of the drinks.
(All beverages here are 32 ouncers, priced at $1.25.)
``The chickens who lay our eggs are smarter than our manager.''
Though none of the morning customers opted for such things, at the Star City Diner you'll find Pot Pie Chicken, Yankee Pot Roast (``not just for Yankees; try it - you'll like it!''), and Elvis Lives homemade pastries.
At the top of the line on the menu you may try the June Cleaver Roasted Slices of Pork Tenderloin for $7.95.
``This is the best thing to happen to Roanoke since the Sportsman,'' reminisced Johnny Cundiff. ``This is going to be the local place. I just know it.''
The Sportsman, he explained while sitting at the counter with other men nodding their heads in reverence, used to be at the corner of Church and Jefferson.
``I started going there when I was 13,'' he said. ``They had a pool room upstairs and great food downstairs.''
He was eating the best looking ham and cheese biscuit I've ever seen. Huge. Dripping with at least two kinds of cheese. For a buck seventy-five.
There is only one way to truly rate a diner like this one. And that's by its chocolate milk shake.
So at 7 a.m., I had them mix me up one. It was a real winner.
``If you were a good customer, you'd order more food.''
by CNB