Remember when that barista walked over to you with a fresh pot of coffee and asked, “Top you off, hon?” Or that hot new farm-to-table restaurant with photos of the cheeseburger platter on its laminated menus?
We didn’t think so.
Since Riley Arthur set out to photograph every diner in the five boroughs a little more than two years ago, at least a dozen have shut their doors, pushed out by real estate prices and the fickle tastes of New York eaters. No one Instagrams the 3 a.m. cantaloupe slices or all-day breakfast specials at that neighborhood spot where there is always a stool waiting. The checkerboard floors, the prehistoric rotating cake displays, the leatherette booths, the menu prices updated with Wite-Out and ballpoint pen — these are the endangered species of the urban habitat.
So far Ms. Arthur, 31, has shot more than 200. Some are retro and refurbished, some aging more or less gracefully; the ones in Staten Island and the Bronx have the most parking. She has seen her share of blue paper cups promising that “It is our pleasure to serve you,” and of single men reading newspapers at the counter. Such is the appeal of diners, she said.
“You know what you’re going to get. It’s maybe not the best food, but people go for an experience that they can count on, year after year, like the food their mother made. Like meatloaf, which you can’t get at more gastronomic places.”
Ms. Arthur recently moved to Florida, so she now crams her work — she estimates that there are still 60 to 75 diners she has not photographed — into brief visits, hitting 10 or 12 diners in a day. “It’s a marathon of food eating,” she said. “I try to patronize all of them. I always order the matzo ball soup.”
It’s a hard job. But at least there are free refills.
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