The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook

Dishes and Dispatches from the Catskill Mountains

About the Book

IACP AWARD FINALIST • 85 comfort food recipes, including classic Americana dishes and reimagined favorites, from the celebrated Phoenicia Diner in New York's idyllic Catskill mountains

Whether you're a local or just passing through, the revamped Phoenicia Diner is an irresistible must-stop in the region, beloved for its honest cooking that seamlessly combines the best of the classics (Classic Buttermilk Pancakes, Chicken with Chive-Buttermilk Dumplings) with the multifaceted way we love to eat today (Chile-Braised Lamb Tostadas, Cider-Braised Duck and Grits). In the Phoenicia Diner Cookbook, you'll find a roster of approachable, soulful dishes that are deeply delicious and full of life-satisfying abundance. “All Day Breakfast” recipes like a Twice-Baked Potato Skillet and gold standards with a twist, such as Roasted Chicken with Tarragon-Honey Glazed Carrots, are complemented by rich essays on the region's fascinating history and the revival that defines it today, creating an evocative love letter to both the area and disappearing diners everywhere.
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Praise for The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook

“The smell of bacon. The sight of pancakes growing golden on a griddle. The sound of gentle conversation at a long counter. If there is a place where just about anyone in this fractured country would feel at home, it’s in a roadside diner, and if you wanted to dream up the ideal version of such a roadside refuge, it would look and sound and smell a lot like the Phoenicia Diner. From Brunswick stew to biscuits and gravy to ’shrooms on a shingle, this book brings all of those sensory comforts to life on every gleaming page. This book might just save America.”—Jeff Gordinier, author of Hungry: Eating, Road-Tripping, and Risking It All with the Greatest Chef in the World

“If there’s a sight in the Hudson Valley more soothing, more full of familiar promise than the globe lights shining beacon-bright through Phoenicia Diner’s windows in the late afternoon, I just don’t know it. In the embrace of the Diner’s vinyl booths, I have stomped snow from the treads of my boots between bites of Salisbury steak, shared a late-August milkshake with a new love, welcomed in birthdays with pancakes and fat onion rings. The Diner’s rare knack for nudging nostalgia into a modern context is what makes it so special, and it’s all over this book: 272 pages of a gorgeous, inclusive, golden-yolked American Dream, where chilaquiles and Brunswick stew and patty melts and meatballs are all welcome and all make perfect sense. The Diner will make short-order cooks out of all of us, and in the end, that’s a very good thing.”—Jordana Rothman, restaurant editor-at-large, Food & Wine

“A really good diner becomes the heart of its community, and Phoenicia Diner is a great one—serving up hearty and delicious food from people who are happy to see you, and a sense of abundance that feels like home, whether you’re a local or just passing through.” —Danny Meyer, CEO of Union Square Hospitality Group and founder of Shake Shack

The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook, like the restaurant itself, seamlessly mingles classic expectations with dishes that reflect the way we cook and eat today. Buttermilk pancakes coexist with steak chilaquiles; pimento cheese patty melts with pork belly BLTs; and lemon-meringue pie with autumn harvest muffins. How do they get along between the covers of the same book? Because they all meet the essential criteria of great diner food, delivering big, smile-inducing flavors that make you want to stop and pull over every time you drive by or, in this case, spot it on your bookshelf.”—Andrew Friedman, author of Chefs, Drugs, and Rock & Roll and host of Andrew Talks to Chefs

“The Phoenicia Diner has been a beacon for me and my band of road warriors looking for good food. It is everything you want in a modern/vintage diner that is very, very hard to find these days—honest cooking with good local ingredients. A perfect dream sequence of the American road food dream.”—Andrew Carmellini, owner and chef, Locanda Verde and The Dutch

“When you eat at the Phoenicia Diner you can feel the heartbeat of the Catskills, fully surrounded by mountains with a menu full of soulful diner classics. The first time I visited was the middle of winter—a quiet February afternoon, snow falling outside, hot coffee and pancakes inside—nowhere I would have rather been.”—Elise Kornack, chef and restaurateur, Take Root

“The first time my wife and I rolled into the Phoenicia Diner, we knew they were doing something special—from the energy in the space, the incredible hospitality offered the second we walked in and, ultimately, the delicious nostalgic food. We were supporters from day one and have been rooting the team on ever since.”—Michael Chernow, restaurateur, Seamore’s, WellWell, and The Meatball Shop
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Excerpt

The Phoenicia Diner Cookbook

Introduction

The directions are simple: take Exit 19 off the New York Thruway in Kingston, make a right turn onto Route 28, and head west.

A simple sign on the right reads: “Catskill Park,” a rough-hewn outline of the region etched into the wood. To the right, a dilapidated steakhouse sits on the edge of a rock face; to the left, a low-slung motel. Pass “The Dollhouse,” a once rickety building of peaks and eaves, now renovated. Habitat for Humanity’s ReStore parking lot is full to capacity, as always—people dropping off entire estates’ worth of furniture and bric‑a‑brac, and tourists and locals looking to snap up a deal. The motorcycle club on your left bumps up against a warehouse for unfinished wooden furniture; across the road, a kombucha shop in a strip mall, an indicator of changing tastes in this region. Continue west, and deep front porches invite you into house after house, imposing stacks of firewood, always prepared to stave off damp rain and the long winter, alongside rockers and vintage gliders, ready for lazy summer days. To the left, through the pines, a glimpse of the vast bowl of the Ashokan Reservoir, a manmade wonder that quenches the unending thirst of New York City. A white arrow on a green road sign announces that Woodstock is just a few miles off to the right. The hills rise up ahead, the crisscross of peak against peak casting long shadows. Signs of the city slip away: you’re in the Catskills now.

Around a bend, the mighty Esopus Creek comes rushing out from between the hills, moving down, down toward the Hudson. Onward are the tracks of the Catskill Mountain Railroad, a monument to the once bustling and vast network of railroads that carried people and goods—furs, produce, bluestone, dairy, lumber—up and down, east and west across the region.

A few miles farther, a towering sign that reads, simply, “Diner” rises up on your left. On a post shorter in stature, there’s an artist’s rendering of an old-school Woodie, the iconic American station wagon, loaded down with outdoor rec equipment—an inner tube, a canoe, skis—a nod to the long history of this road, this place, moving people toward leisure, toward a haven.

Pull in, and the parking lot is full: chrome-edged motorcycles and beat-up pickup trucks, spotless sports cars and aging station wagons packed to the gills. People come and go, chatting over coffee under the tin roof of a simple wooden pavilion where ceiling fans twirl lazily. Inside, it’s the picture of a classic diner: chrome and tile, swivel stools at the counter, leather booths, paper placemats. A chalkboard announces the day’s specials, and a felt letterboard above the long Formica counter advertises milkshakes, cookies, and a kids’ menu: everyone is welcome here.

The kitchen hums, churning out diner standards—fried eggs, pancakes, burgers, and the like—alongside the unexpected: a skillet of soft scrambled eggs studded with smoked trout and crème fraîche, a fried catfish sandwich topped with a fish-sauced slaw, cider-braised duck over creamy grits. There’s pie and pudding for dessert. At tables, long-time local residents sit side by side with Brooklyn hipsters up for the weekend, hunters sit next to vegans, and renowned musicians rub elbows with farmers. The clink of forks against ceramic and the sound of plates being scraped clean mingle with the laughter and rock and roll. No‑nonsense servers offer more coffee.

It is every diner you’ve ever known, but the view of the mountain ridge from the plate-glass front wall and the cues on the menu—the prominence of trout; the local ramps, syrup, and cider; and a bagel with lox and cream cheese, a nod to this region’s tourist past—are firm reminders that you’re here: this is the Phoenicia Diner.

About the Author

Mike Cioffi
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About the Author

Chris Bradley
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About the Author

Sara B. Franklin
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