Gaslight Diner — Restaurant in Jeffersontown

Even though we live in J-Town, we hadn't been to Gaslight Diner since it opened a few years ago. We drive by it all the time, often with a mention of "we should try that place sometime". On a recent Sunday we decided to try Gaslight Diner for lunch (late brekkie).

I walked away with a two-word impression: Not Impressed.

We entered around 11:15 am and the restaurant was, generously speaking, half full. We walked in the back door and a server (whose name we later found out by accident) was Mason. (He never did introduce himself.) We sat at the first four-top inside the door, directly in front of the bar. After a little bit of confusion one of the other servers told Mason that our table was his. We sat down and he went (presumably) to take care of other existing tables.

He came back quite a bit later to give us our menus and to take our drink orders...then he went somewhere else again. We perused the menu while trying to decide what we wanted and we had plenty of time. I'm guessing it was over ten minutes before he returned to take our orders. I ordered the Tex Mex omelet with rye toast, wifey ordered the breakfast plate (also with rye toast). "Ok, I'll get this keyed in and you food should be out before long".

Over 10 minutes later Mason stopped by to tell us that "the kitchen is kind of backed up, you food will be out in 15 to 20 minutes". We nearly got up to leave with that piece of news, but we hadn't been here before and wanted to give it a fair shake. We're already over 20 minutes into this visit with nothing to show for it aside from two glasses of iced tea.

I have a hard time buying into the "kitchen is kind of backed up" notion, given the restaurant wasn't near half capacity and as we sat waiting there were more people that left than there were that entered since we sat down.

Just about 15 minutes later our food arrived. My wife's hash browns weren't hot. They weren't even warm. Apparently the eggs and the bacon were good, but that plate went back. Hot food Hot is the name of the game, not Hot food Room Temperature. About five minutes later her plate came back out, this time with hot hash browns. My omelet wasn't as hot as it should have been, but you could tell that the heat lamp that I'm guessing it sat under at least warmed it above room temperature. I didn't want to send it back. We were too far into it at this time.

Incidentally, if you opt for the Tex Mex Omelet, be warned: It's very light on the ham. Light, as in 5 or 6 little chunks. Plenty of Jalapeños (not a complaint), but if you're looking for a decent amount of ham, this isn't it.

The rye toast that we both ordered apparently had been near a toaster at some point, but it was, in no fashion, freshly toasted. It wasn't even the slightest bit warm. The butter we spread on it looked up at us as if to say "Are you for real? This isn't even warm enough to melt me!"....and it didn't. At all.

Oh...and butter. We had to ask for butter. The toast arrived room temperature, without butter.

As I mentioned, our server kept going into some kind of dead space because he'd go away for a length of time and then come back. Overhearing a couple of the other servers, apparently he had some family members in another part of the restaurant dining at the same time we were, which explains his frequent absences.

With that knowledge to explain why he wasn't around much, it rather made us feel, for a large part of this visit, like an afterthought. He was pleasant and helpful, but being attentive wasn't a big selling point.

The majority of the staff was busy hustling and taking care of other customers, cleaning and stocking. The place was generally clean, but the floors were oddly sticky when you walked on them.

Yes, we waited a few years to visit the Gaslight Diner. Based on this visit, I don't know that we're compelled to visit again. On our way out my wife made an observation. She said "I can tell you weren't impressed because you didn't take a picture of your food". ...

As god as my witness, this place has figured out what I fear is the objective BEST way to cook the humble potato. I know what you’re thinking, “this guys exaggerating” “this guy is embellishing” oh you could not be more wrong, my friend. Allow me to elaborate. I remember it like it was yesterday (because it was in fact, yesterday.) I made my order, chicken tenders. (Yes I know, a simple, yet elegant choice for a lunchtime rendezvous with my beloved.) you see, this is a dish I’ve had many a time and have always enjoyed due to its crispy, crunchy, golden brown texture and the amount you receive, is befitting for young man such as myself. But this fateful day I was posed with a choice I shan’t forget soon. “Regular fries? Or the house fries?” Little did I know this seemingly benign question would change the trajectory of the rest of my life. “What are the house fries?” I gave as a hasty retort, my hunger was insatiable as you can imagine. “They’re cut square, seasoned, and real crispy” these words fell unto me as that of what may as well have been a blind man describing the Sistine chapel. Sure, the words were technically correct, but they never in eons could have prepared me for the most immaculate, flavorful, and dare I say perfect, side of fries that the French could have never dreamed of preparing themselves. No, these fries could have single-handedly inspired the concept of manifest destiny if i were around in 1840 and you’d told me they were on the other side of the country. There simply aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how unequivocally delectable these fries are. Even if there were no single human mind could ever possibly be capable of truly understanding how jaw droppingly scrumptious these small squares of starch and seasoning are. I imagine that my reaction was similar that of Adam upon touching the finger of Christ almighty. These fries are so good, I’d disown family members that didn’t like them. These fries are so good I’d willingly give up my Vintage, Miller High life, bomber style, windbreaker for 3 steps of the ingredients and I’d give up my little brother for the rest of them. These fries could make the most calloused men shed a tear. They could make flowers bloom. These fries could inspire artist around the world collapse to their knees hoping only to capture a single fleeting second of the visceral emotion one feels when taking that first bite. I implore you to cease robbing yourself of unadulterated happiness and partake in what should be considered a revered delicacy. I say all of this to say:

Try the house fries! they’re super unique and you’ll definitely be happy...

My family & I went in on a Thursday night about an hour or so before they closed. We were told we could sit wherever and someone would be over to help us. After about ten minutes the server came over, mind you the building is empty- we were one of two tables in there. The server came and brought us our drinks, took our order and all was fine. Food took about 45 minutes and my plate, along with my mom’s was barely warm, after a minute or two on the table it was cold. My grandfather ordered a cup of soup and a salad- the cup of soup is probably only 4 ounces so definitely not worth the money. The salad was extremely basic with not many toppings and was more bland than anything. My husband ordered a patty melt and fries that took over an hour to get so he ended up getting it to go as we were leaving. My grandmother got the bologna sandwich which was like literally the thinnest slice of bologna. My husband’s patty melt was on the rye bread that was supposed to be my rye bread..and the fries came out with absolutely zero seasoning and also lukewarm. Our server was great, super kind and you could tell he was having to deal with the bs from the kitchen so it wasn’t his fault at all. Everything’s flowed pretty slowly. All in all the experience wasn’t great which is a shame because they just spent a good bit of money on the place to redo it and it’s in the middle of Jtown. This place seems to have hired very young people which is fine, but they weren’t paying much attention to detail. As we were leaving there was conversation in the kitchen, lots of cursing, and just dysfunction. Not one time during this experience did anyone come up to us like a manager and ask us if we were doing okay. Thank goodness they took off the salad and the $6 cinnamon roll from out ticket because when my husband got home and saw that cinnamon roll he was not happy. We were still very kind despite the crap we dealt with and tipped anyway, but this just wasn’t good. We realize there is larger issues in the world and some people don’t even have food to eat, but they need to change some things up in there. That was our second time there & our first time was very similar. Needless to say we unfortunately will...