In honor of the upcoming 4th of July holiday let’s pay tribute to that venerable American institution The Diner — or as it’s often known in Manhattan, the Coffee Shop.

La Bonbonniere
Just as cute as its name, this West Village spot is just the right mix of friendly neighborhood diner where a cop on the beat will rest his tired feet and the local work-at-home professional can casually pour through the NY Times in an atmosphere of plate-clanging comfort. The coffee aroma is reminiscent of a Howard Johnson’s and they serve a fine BLT.

Waverly Restaurant
What would the stretch of 6th Avenue between West 4th and 14th street be without this red-vinyl -banquette diner? A series of head shops, faceless bodegas and Duane Reades, nothing more. This neighborhood mainstay is a safe bet and ticks all the classic diner boxes. Ponder the portraits of C-List actors that line the walls and ponder “what happened to you Margo Ferranto?” Tasty burgers are served the why they ought to be – accompanied by a heap of tasteless iceburg lettuce and inedible cole slaw.

Square Diner This forlorn little shack sitting on a forgotten Tribeca corner looks a little worse for wear – as if it just got beat up by a bigger, tougher diner. But inside you’ll feel as if you’re inside the hull of an old wood-paneled ship. The walls are covered in nostalgic nods to a past that likely never existed…a fact to contemplate as you sip one of their delicious milkshakes.

The Coffee Shop Notoriously bad service and overpriced food abound at this faux-diner mainstay for beautiful people. So why is it included? The décor is stunning. You’ll feel like you’re on a movie set, an illusion that carries over to the good-looking but often insufferable staff of model and actress wannabees. Have a drink at the bar, check out the amazing back room lounge, but please don’t take any of it too seriously.

B&H Dairy Easily missed, this East Village place is a tiny sliver of heaven for vegetarians who like to indulge in East European delicacies like Borscht and Challah french toast and diner mainstays like egg creams. As the bathroom graffiti said “a waist is a terrible thing to mind”.

Classic Coffee Shop
On a block straddling Chinatown and the Lower East Side that isn’t really on tourist maps, this tiny place is as comfortable a spot I’ve ever been to in Manhattan. They serve a mean breakfast sandwich and cater mostly to old neighborhood regulars. Owner Carmine will chat with you about the neighborhood he’s spent his whole life in and has the elementary school class photo on the wall to prove it.

Primeburger So I can’t vouch for the food, but like many places on the list it’s worth a visit for décor that looks pulled out of a vintage Life Magazine ad. In addition to the usual long, stool-lined counter there’s additional seating with built-in swivel table that looks midway between an airplane seat and an amusement park ride. See it but you may not believe it. Their signature burger is one of the last good deals in midtown.

Viand
Wedged improbably between a sky-high end jewelry shop on one side and a racy lingerie boutique on the other, Viand is a homely little coffee shop buzzing with the constant din of its hard-working staff catering to a room-full of upper East-Siders and European tourists craving the authentic.

Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop
Possibly the most authentic-looking place of the lot. Eisenberg’s has more of a post-war late 40′s early 50s film-noir vibe and less phony faux-nostalgia. A little dark and dusty – in a good way – and as a bonus the food is quite good. Try the grill cheese. As their sign says, “You either get it or you don’t.”

You know the feeling. You receive an email from a long-lost cousin, your sister’s boyfriend or an old friend from college who wants to crash on your couch for a few days…“and don’t feel like you need to entertain me!” they insist, meaning, of course the complete opposite. So where do you take them? Or if you’re an out-of-towner without access to a savvy tour guide, where do you go?

My guest was a South African native by way of Australia, currently living in London, so she’s pretty well-traveled. I let her do the touristy stuff like climbing to the top of Rockefeller Center  without me, and started our adventure in Soho on a Saturday afternoon to satisfy her shoe-shopping needs surrounded by other euro-travelers, eagerly exploiting their currency advantage on the stretch of Broadway between Houston and Canal.  I made sure we stopped by the Spring Street  Moma Design Store. My lunch plan was Cafe Habana a tiny diner with the most delicious corn-on-the cob ever, but I was foiled by a 25-minute waiting list and enacted plan B. Tucked at the end of a long alleyway (that features a cool art gallery) Freemans feels like a secret. Its rockabilly country club décor makes up for the slightly overpriced food and drink menu (5 scallops for $28?).

Brooklyn’s relevance is old hat for locals but will still impress foreigners who’ll feel like they’re being let in on a new trend. Williamsburg, for all its detractors screaming “gentrification!”is still chock-a-block with constantly expanding food and drink choices. We took the overland route out of Manhattan via the Williamsburg bridge J train for a skyline view, and being a typical Aussie sports fan my guest didn’t mind a stop at Mulhollands, a civilized sports bar with a fireplace and tasty dry rub wings – they may even put on some Australian Rules Football if you ask nice. We then went down the block for an Asian-inflected Mojito at Bozu (which means skinhead), a cozy Japanese restaurant with superb, highly authentic food selections and a very well-conceived cocktail menu.

Walking along Bedford Avenue my guest became intrigued by the divey charm of neighborhood mainstay Turkey’s Nest, whose crowd on any given night runs the gamut from burly bikers to gaunt Hasidic Jewish men shooting pool. That was followed by a quick spin on the dance floor at The Manhattan Inn, a former Polish family restaurant which is a piano bar in the evenings and a low-key dance party at night.

On Sunday we slept in and went to Chinatown’s Nom Wah Tea Parlor the oldest Dim Sum palace in the city, located at the bend in Doyers Street. Opened in 1920 it calls to mind a Chinatown diner in a 1950s film noir. The dim sum selections (ticked off on a sheet of paper like a multiple choice quiz) were startlingly good and reassuringly cheap. The standouts were crunchy spring rolls, salt and pepper shrimp served whole, and pan-fried dumplings that my well-traveled guest said were among the best she’d had on several continents. The staff was extremely friendly, even as I photographed every inch of vintage floor tile, tea tin and restroom sign. We shopped at Ten Ren a tea emporium lined with enormous golden tins and picked up “I love NY” chopsticks from Yunhong Chopsticks , which also featured a handsome set devoted to Chairman Mao’s poetry. To honor her last request we made a pilgrimage to the statue of liberty, foregoing the expensive boat tours in favor of the (free) Staten Island-Ferry surrounded by tourists speaking every language imaginable, each united in their awe for the great lady, cameras snapping frenetically as Manhattan drifted slowly away like a huge skyscraper-topped ocean liner.

Trip Wolf