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Kriner’s Diner
$7-$18 per plate
2409 C St.
7 a.m. to 8 p.m., Monday through Saturday; 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Sunday
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kriners-Diner/121380924574223
Fresh off a review of classic Anchorage restaurant Arctic Roadrunner, I thought I’d try to hit something different and innovative. On a frigid Saturday afternoon, however, I found myself visiting another renowned source of comfort food, albeit on my first visit to a relatively new establishment in the city’s dining scene.
Kriner’s Diner is surprisingly difficult to reach by road, given its popularity; the easiest way into the parking lot is to pull out to your left as you’re headed south along C Street approaching Fireweed Lane. There’s also another way in from Fireweed headed west, making a right at Cash America Pawn just before C and threading your way in between buildings.
The diner has only been in Anchorage for a few years, since a 2009 act of arson in the same building displaced the Sahara Middle Eastern restaurant, but it’s not the Kriner family’s first restaurant. In the tabloid-newspaper-sized menu, owner Andy Kriner says he’s been in the restaurant business since 1979, when he started managing Sourdough Sal’s -- started in Soldotna by his mother, Sally Hoskins -- at age 19.
Kriner’s prides itself on its American food, and there’s a great deal of Americana on the walls. The décor is quite homey, with simple round tables and wooden chairs lending the place a dining-room feel. There’s a political slant to the place, accompanied by a charming sense of honesty. Kriner puts it best in the menu: “As you can see I am a Conservative at heart but welcome all political views at Kriner’s Diner. Remember God loves us all.”
Suitably reassured that I wouldn’t be shot on sight as a member of the lamestream media, I sat down with my mother and perused that menu…no fewer than three times. For a conservative diner there’s a shockingly liberal number of items available, with breakfast, lunch and dinner all being served at any time, and it’s admittedly intimidating on an initial visit.
While breakfast was tempting, I eventually went with a BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich with fries ($10.99). Mom wasn’t all that hungry, so she ordered a bowl of Grandma’s Conservative Chicken Corn Soup ($4.99) and a side order of coleslaw ($2.99). As the waiter walked away, I immediately regretted ordering such a mundane item, and spent much of the 20-minute wait for our food wishing I’d asked for something that wasn’t almost surely going to come out of a can.
One look at my plate, however, was enough to assuage my fears. The pork sandwich I received was light-years beyond the miserable one everybody’s eaten at some point: from the large toasted bun holding more meat than usual, to the actual pieces -- not shreds -- of barbecued pork, from the slightly more tangy than sweet sauce in which it was layered to the crown of coleslaw offering some added crunch within the bun. It was almost painful to put the sandwich down and record my notes on it, which are still stained with residual sauce from the thing. The crinkle-cut fries alongside the sandwich didn’t look handmade but managed two rare feats for a diner: coming in a decent yet not overwhelming portion, and being completely unsalted. (For the record I’m not anti-salt, but it’s much easier to add salt than remove it.)
Mom’s ostensibly simple chicken corn chowder was similarly impressive when she dipped her spoon into it, the warm broth readily yielding long strips of chicken and bits of bacon mixed in with the corn, as well as small dumplings that had sank to the bottom of the bowl soaked with rich flavor. The bowl didn’t last long at all before her, singlehandedly resurrecting her appetite as her attention shifted to the coleslaw at her side. Her side dish offered a closer look at the slaw in my sandwich, its sweet and creamy texture punctuated with bits of broccoli and a layer of Craisins (dried cranberries) sprinkled across the top.
While that was more than enough food for a decent lunch, Mom sat back and expressed a sudden hankering for pie. Sensing an opportunity to get an authoritative take on Kriner’s dessert selections, I asked the server to tell us what was available. After a moment of consideration, we each went for a slice ($4.99 apiece), as I asked for a piece of Oreo crème pie and Mom settled on a piece of cherry pie.
Both desserts were worth the price, the diner’s “slices” each constituting about a sixth of a pie, but neither blew us away like our entrees had. While the crème pie had plenty of Oreo bits beneath a decadent three inches of whipped cream, its custard base made it feel too heavy after a few bites; the whole Oreo cookie on top was soft with an aftertaste that suggested a fair deal of fridge time. The cherries in Mom’s pie slice were understandably canned given the season, and she said the crust was a bit thick with not enough flakiness for her taste.
All in all, I’m quite glad I visited Kriner’s. The solid quality of the lunches we were served, as well as the mostly full seats in the dining area, suggests things are being done right in the kitchen. As I peruse the broadsheet menu once more certain words catch my eye, tempting me toward a return visit on another bitterly cold day that already seems inevitable: Ted’s Big Breakfast, Andy’s Awesome Burger, Giant Cinnamon Rolls. You might take a while to find your favorite item, but the search promises to be well worth the effort.
Kriner’s Diner
$7-$18 per plate
2409 C St.
7 a.m. to 8 p.m., Monday through Saturday; 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Sunday