For those of us who grew up in New Jersey in the 1960s, a diner was the place to go for breakfast. A morning stop brought scalding coffee, eggs fried in butter, bacon, ham, sausage sitting alongside, toast lathered in butter. I miss those places when non-GMOs, organic, natural ingredients were not selling points, it was just the way things were.
I kept hearing about, reading about, and driving past the Laurel Diner in Southbury. The small building sits almost hidden in plain sight among its commercial neighbors. Pass it after mid-afternoon and it’s closed; breakfast and lunch are the only meals offered. I knew I had to visit, take a trip through a time machine back to my youth and see if the state-famous corned beef hash was worth the hype.
The origins of the Laurel Diner began in 1949, the country was booming after WW2, and the Greatest Generation was moving to the suburbs. In the small hamlet of Southbury, with a population less than 4,000, surrounded by farmland and fields, the Laurel Diner opened. Little is recorded about the original owners, but in 1997 the current owner, Peter Homick, bought the diner with his younger brother Mark and an unnamed partner. The trio initially hired cooks to continue in the tradition, but they weren’t satisfied, they took over the cooking themselves, even though none had any training. Peter eventually bought out the others, still oversees the griddle, while Mark continues to offer his brotherly assistance.
The Laurel Diner has received numerous accolades. In 2023, Food & Wine named it CT’s winner in its “Best Diner in Every State” roundup. It is old-school at its finest. Handwritten signs on the door tell patrons it is cash-only, with no ATM on the premises; the smell of pancakes, bacon, and butter awaken your senses; certain specials are written with multi-colored markers on numerous whiteboards that adorn the walls; décor, dinnerware and utensils wrapped in paper napkins are all throwbacks to simpler times; people are talking with each other, not staring at screens; and the servers bring plastic-sleeve-enclosed menus plus a sheet of paper with the daily specials. This is Americana personified. Sit, relax, enjoy food, friends and family.
I was on a culinary mission, I was there for the oft-recommended, and raved about, corned beef hash. When I walked in, I looked up and the Breakfast Gods were with me, the first whiteboard that I saw read “House Special – Homemade Corned Beef Hash, 2 Eggs, Homefries & Toast.” I was all in.
What is the origin of corned beef? Enter Henry VIII’s conquest of Ireland and his declaration as the King of Ireland in 1542. Prior to this invasion, cows were a symbol of wealth in Ireland, not everyday food, and ownership was usually reserved for royalty. After 1542, the English brought cattle to England to satisfy their tastes, but in the 1660s, the English Parliament enacted laws banning the import of cattle from Ireland. The Irish beef stayed at home, prices plummeted, and meat suddenly became affordable for all of Ireland. To preserve this newly abundant commodity, the Irish turned to the ancient process of salt curing, finally adopting the name “corned beef” as the salt used in the preserving process resembled “corn kernels.” Almost two centuries later, the Potato Famine of the 1840’s sent many Irish to New York City, where they settled alongside Jewish neighbors in the Lower East Side and were reunited with corned beef, since the Koshering process was like their traditional cure.
Back to the future, I saw two empty stools at the counter overlooking the flat top where all the action occurred and grabbed one. The waitress asked about coffee, and I ordered a cup plus the House Special with eggs over easy with rye toast. The coffee arrived in a mug printed with the diner’s name and its local sponsors, plus a small dish that contained micro-doses of half and half. The coffee was blazing hot.
I watched Peter prepare orders. Rashers of bacon were methodically placed on the griddle, plate-sized pancake batter was carefully ladled alongside, two eggs were simultaneously cracked with a single stroke for omelets and sandwiches, spoonfuls of butter were added to mounds of potatoes, and the corned beef was layered for its final sear. Peter’s long metal spatula performed a flipping ballet with all these items. There was no tension, no pressure, the years of training showed in this silent dance. Finished dishes were removed for plating, and others were added. It was magical to watch.
My waitress brought my order. It filled a large oval plate with no extra room. A big mound of potatoes sat on one side, while the two over-easy eggs sat atop the corned beef. The two slices of toast were tucked into the side. The potatoes were multi-colored: a few pale, some slightly tan, more a bit darker, and still others with that deliciously crispy dark brown. The eggs showed a true over-easy; the top side looked like the griddle just kissed it with heat. A few pieces of corned beef peeked from under the eggs, so I lifted them to look. The pile was large chunks of the thickly sliced corned beef. Peter took thick slices of his 2-day house-cured meat and then added a little crust with the griddle.
Normally I taste the potatoes first but today was different; the corned beef was the center of attention. The first bite confirmed why people rave. It was not, in the traditional sense, a corned beef hash, which has small, diced pieces of corned beef, onions and potatoes mixed together. This was straight-up chunks of great corned beef with a little sizzle and was delicious. It delivered rich flavor, a little saltiness and was super tender. The large chunks of potatoes were also very good, and I added a little salt and pepper as a personal preference. They were soft with a little bite, and I really enjoyed the pieces that also added the crispiness on the exterior. Then I cut into one of the egg yolks and let it ooze over the beef and potatoes. The ultimate combination bite included all three components, and it was fantastic. I paced myself so I could enjoy the completely hearty breakfast. This was a fantastically decadent way to start the day.
Overall, I felt like I stepped back in time. The Laurel Diner delivered exactly what I envisioned, honest food, cooked with pride and served without pretense. The corned beef lived up to its reputation, and the years of Peter’s devotion to serving the community was evident on every plate. Take the drive, grab a seat, enjoy the atmosphere and reminisce with friends while enjoying some great diner food.
544 Main St S.
Southbury, CT 06488
FN – I went unannounced, without an invitation, and paid for my meal like any customer. Nobody was aware that I’d be writing about the visit or the food. This is my honest opinion on a normal visit, nothing special or comped.
