One thing I really enjoy is eating at new-to-me establishments. A few years back, I had started using the hashtag #ExplorationSaturday to track my adventures as I set out to try things outside of my normal weekend routines. The more homegrown the venue, the more it speaks to me. Even when I’m traveling, I tend to seek out the experience of the intersection of one place and one moment that cannot, and likely will not, ever be replicated.
A roadside diner with a worn neon sign, or a neighborhood corner spot with gingham curtains will lure me in more easily than a chain. In general, I try to make eye contact with other people as I’m speaking with them (like fellow human beings), and servers, cashiers, and other restaurant staff usually respond positively to this. My business seems appreciated even more so. My eyes, ears, and nose absorb every sensory detail. I always hope that a few discretely snapped photographs will help me remember what I was thinking and feeling during that one, fleeting meal.
I spent many years in Tampa, Florida starting in the mid-1990s, and from what I remember of that time, there were many such places in that beautiful, historic city like the Three Coins Diner in the Seminole Heights district. For whatever reason, I had never eaten a single meal there when I was a poor college student. It probably wasn’t a factor that this little restaurant wasn’t anywhere near campus, as I had honed my skills in identifying places all over Hillsborough County where my dollar could be stretched as far as possible.
The prices at the Three Coins are and were such that I could have taken a break from my one-time, normal diet of store-brand macaroni-and-cheese, canned tuna, and Doral menthol lights to indulge myself here for maybe one meal a week. The truth is that I had probably never eaten at this diner prior to a visit back to Tampa Bay in 2013, the year of these photographs, simply because there were other places to go, or different spots that others in my party might have preferred.
Eating alone in my 20s was different than doing so in my 40s, which I chalk up to independent adulthood still being such a novel thing back then that input from and interaction with other people was still very much a priority for me at that earlier time in my life. If you’re fortunate, you’re a much more fully formed person later on and can enjoy silence and your own company that much more easily. I value time by myself, especially when I’m trying to absorb a new experience without the fear of displeasing others who may not appreciate being there as much as me.
In scanning the menu for a late lunch in a time and place before the regular reading of Yelp reviews was even on my radar, I asked myself what seemed like a safe bet. I was feeling like trying something new and didn’t necessarily want to get a basket of fish and chips, chicken fingers, a quarter pound hamburger, or some other universal staple. I wasn’t feeling quite as adventurous as some of the things I saw on the menu, but I felt like having some chicken. Of course, any of the aforementioned dishes can be prepared and served in a way such that a cook can put his or her unmistakable mark on it, but that’s actually the point of this essay as it relates to our featured car.
One could say that the newly downsized 1977 full-sized cars from Chevrolet were like chicken on the menu of what was available for purchase in the late 1970s. It still often makes me chuckle when in response to being asked what some exotic creature tasted like as food, people will opine that it “tasted like chicken”. I suppose that this is often said because chicken is a source of protein that’s ubiquitous across many restaurants and households. The new, smartly shrunken big cars from GM seemed to set the template for many cars that followed, including Ford’s Panther-platform cars and Chrysler’s new R-Bodies, both of which arrived for ’79. The right-sized Impala and Caprice, of which almost 662,000 were sold in all forms their first, ’77 model year, was perhaps the most “chicken-like” and universal of all cars on United States roads in the late ’70s.
Poultry can be prepared in a myriad of ways, and I love all kinds of chicken. Baked chicken, fried chicken, marinated chicken, strips, pieces, and nuggets, etc. are all alright with me. I don’t remember if my sandwich had particularly blown me away with its ingredients and preparation as listed on the menu, but it looked intriguing and different enough from what I was used to, which nudged me to order it. I was raised to eat what was placed in front of me, not to waste food or money, and also to actually try a new-to-me thing before making a judgement.
The owner of this Caprice had outfitted his straight-bodied example with shiny red paint (a tomato sauce base?), nice chrome rocker panel moldings that reflected the pavement below (basil?), and big wheels, which could be likened to generous portions of bacon, as on my sandwich. Is there too much wheel under those wells? Was there too much bacon on my sandwich? To answer the latter, there is never too much bacon on anything. Full stop. Too much of a good thing is said to be bad for you, and I will reluctantly concede that this is true, even in the case of my favorite cured meat. This doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy a small pile of greasy, delicious bacon from time to time as I otherwise try to eat right and stay healthy. I am human, and life is short.
My point, though, is that this bent-glass Caprice coupe is this gentleman’s dish, and he can put as much “bacon” on it as he wants. He ordered that meal. You didn’t. What sense does it ever make to disparage food you don’t have to eat, or a car you don’t have to drive? With that out of the way, my open-faced sandwich was, well, interesting and flavorful, in a mostly positive way. Was I glad I ordered it? Yes! It seemed like a great choice in keeping with my attempt to soak up more local color in the beautiful, multicultural city which helped form me in young adulthood. Would I order something different off the menu instead, the next time I return? That would also be a yes. The important thing is that I would return to the Three Coins, and also that my mind remains open to trying new things, even if they’re outside of my usual preference.
Seminole Heights, Tampa, Florida.
Friday, May 17, 2013.
I love the analogy that would classify the 77+ B body as the chicken of cars. Everyone will order chicken.
I guess we could take this farther. Would the 79 Panther be pork? It was called “the other white meat” around that time, as I recall. Which would make the Mopar R body good old fashioned beef. Perhaps not the best cut or prepared in the best way, but still more fat and flavor than the others. I guess I’m just a beef guy at heart.
As for this particular car, I always thought the wheel wells looked too big, but I imagine this particular owner disagrees. 🙂
And what about the other cuts of chicken? If I ordered it, I’d get it with a big (4’x8′) slab of loadspace and pre-seasoned with woodgrain sauce.
JP, you’ve got me thinking. I also like both pork and beef, but with that said, I think that maybe Ford would be beef and Chrysler pork, since I see beef as being second in popularity to chicken among meat eaters.
Coincidentally, when I have been on business travel on the expressway between Des Moines, Iowa and Omaha, Nebraska, I pass a billboard that advertises “Pork, The Other White Meat”. This makes me wonder if the pork capital of the United States is on that corridor of freeway.
Or maybe the Chrysler was more like SPAM. 🙂
AMC. And I am guilty of liking Spam.
A thoughtful piece, thank you! My older self is more accepting of what others are up to, so this story resonates with me.
Hard to believe this is the downsized model, it looks enormous!
Well said on all counts, particularly your last paragraph. Also, in regard to bacon, one day when you feel adventurous, sprinkle some (or a lot) on vanilla ice cream along with some chocolate sauce. It’s fantastic.
Joe, you’ve got me smiling this morning but for reasons not obvious. I’ve got a CC tomorrow that, well, has a theme highly related to some things you mention here. Proof that great minds are thinking alike.
Great minds, Jason! Looking forward to your essay tomorrow.
And bacon on ice cream does actually intrigue me, though I’ve never had it. I would definitely try it. I was introduced to the juxtaposition of salty and sweet when my cousin and his wife got me a package of Esther Price chocolate covered potato chips – which I wolfed.
Properly optioned (350 4-BBL V8 engine, F-41 suspension, gauge package, factory A/C, any “performance” final drive ratio available) these “Bent Back Window” coupes were a fine driving and good looking car. Then and Now.
Unfortunately, a coupe optioned as I have described was seldom on the dealer’s new car lot.
We had a 79 until 1990 with the big engine, gauge package, f41 suspension, a/c… and manual locks and windows. It was a favorite of my parents, and they kept it until 1990 when they got sick of 2 of us at 11 and 9 plus my 2 year old brother in a car seat in the back of a coupe. We “upgraded” to an Astro van.
I too enjoy anything off of the beaten path. I greatly prefer a Mom & Pop diner to a chain restaurant. And as a native Floridian, Tampa is by far my favorite city!
I spent two enjoyable extended Summers in Tampa, on TDY with everyone’s favorite Uncle.
Tampa was the only city that I TDY’d in that I would consider leaving my native New Orleans for.
I spent some time in Tampa at my great aunt’s house in August, 1965. It was hot and humid as hell. I guess compared to New Orleans, it was no problem for you☺. I do remember welcoming late afternoon rain showers that gave a tiny window of relief. The Tampa-St Petersburg area has a lot to offer, though, and I wouldn’t mind seeing it again some day!
I would seriously, hypothetically consider retiring to Tampa (if I didn’t love Chicago so much). It has everything – culture, history, arts… all these years later, I retain such a fondness for the Tampa Bay area.
Your opening photograph immediately brought to mind several similar restaurants I frequented during my own years as a poor college student, and for the years afterwards. For a while, a group of friends of mine formed a “Carnivore’s Club,” where we’d go to restaurants just like the Three Coins Diner that we knew offered good value and lots of food.
And like you, I’d relish the opportunity to try something just a little bit unique, because it seemed that if we made the effort to drive to a different part of town just to eat, I might as well eat something more interesting than chicken fingers.
I never would have correlated the Caprice and its B-body stablemates as chicken, but now that you’ve made the case for it, that absolutely fits. Chicken can be a delicacy (Caprice Brougham LS), an indulgence like fried chicken (Impala SS), soothing comfort food (Estate Wagon), or that bland, pre-prepared stuff my wife brings home from the supermarket when it’s on sale (base 6-cyl. Caprice).
As for bacon, no truer words have ever been written than your quote that “there is never too much bacon on anything.”
Eric, the Carnivore’s Club sounds like it would have been right up my alley. I also like your expansion on the chicken metaphor – all of those examples make sense to me.
One of my semi-recent, favorite thrift store finds is a t-shirt that reads “Either you like bacon, or you’re wrong.” I realize this goes against the “like what you like” premise of this essay, but I still love the shirt. LOL
The “Three Coins” diner looks familiar to me.
I suspect this diner is one of the many restaurants that my USDA Med-Fly co-workers and I regularly gathered at for food & time killing during the day.
Was it in business in 1998?
Mark, the Three Coins has been open since 1984 (which I admit I had to research to find out). Once it’s safe to do so, I’d like to seek out more places like this.
Sounds good to me, Joseph Dennis.
The first summer (FY1998) we had a double digit contingent (about 15 guys, #IIRC) from my agency on TDY in Tampa-St Pete-Bradenton-Sarasota. We would make good use of the government supplied cell phones, co-coordinating where we would meet up for breakfast & lunch, spending our no-receipts-required per diem money. My 30 day TDY turned into 7 months that first “summer”. Fine-by-me!
My out-of-town co-workers complained that they often gained weight, riding with me, for 30/60/90 days at a time. Particularly the skinny boys from the northeast part of the USA.
“WHERE do you guys find these hole-in-the-wall places to eat at everyday?” “I’ve never heard such in depth discussion and bickering about where to eat!” “Is that all you guys talk about, food, food and MORE food?” “What da hale is grits/okra/key lime pie/sweet potato pie/yams/hushpuppies? We don’t have this stuff up north!”
My usual reply was something like “Well, we ARE from New Orleans, one of the great foodie cities of America!”
🙂
TDY is pretty common in my industry (insurance), so it’s interesting to hear you mention that. Back before my metabolism started slowing down just a little bit, I probably would have been all over the under-the-receipt-threshold meals. Hahaha!
New Orleans is a city with rich history and significance that is definitely on my list of places to explore. I’ll try to remember to fast before I go there.
Some of the best tasting food in #NOLA can be found in small “Mom & Pop” grocery stores as well as in the much more expensive tourist restaurants.
“Frady’s One Stop”, a time warp neighborhood corner store, looks like 1948 inside and has the best roast beef poboy (hoagie sandwich to the rest of the world) I have ever tasted.
In the current conditions, I’d hope that it is still in business today. Patronize your favorite local small businesses!
I feel exactly this way. I recently ordered a take-out pizza from a neighborhood spot. I kept trying not to think fatalistically about what would happen if they close.
A fine essay on the personal choice.
As to the Chevy’s big wheels, I find them visually stimulating and challenging, in a good way. They break down the the rather stuffy status quo assumptions about how a vehicle’s wheels relate to the rest of the body. And I rather like seeing the status quo challenged and/or broken down.
Thanks, Paul. One specific thing I like about these wheels is that their angles seems to echo or compliment those visible in the car’s profile – the trailing edge of the chrome trim on the rear window, the kick-up on the rear quarter windows, etc. They seem to work well with this car’s overall look.
While I can’t comment on the donk, I can say that Three Coins Diner has a less than stellar record regarding health code violations.
https://www.myfloridalicense.com/inspectionDetail.asp?InspVisitID=6892912&licid=6636914
Meanwhile here in Seminole Heights we have a new diner called Tripps and I recommend it highly: clean, great staff, great menu, great pies. C’mon down!
Oh, man. I’ll file this under things I wish I hadn’t seen. Kind of like bringing a blacklight into a room of a motel I’d stay in on my forthcoming Great American Road Trip.
This won’t deter me from going back to Three Coins, but I may need to check out Trip’s on my next trip down, so thanks for the recommendation.
What a nicely styled automobile. Those oversized glitzy wheels have got to go. If you are in Tampa, then this is a go-to diner according to them. There is even a video: https://video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?fr=yhs-omr-001&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=omr&p=three+coins+diner#id=1&vid=1f1577f42b8935d5ca4b77ece991724d&action=click
These donks make me smile. Kind of a Matchbox effect.
It really seems nicely done, even rocker trim has been painted matching.
I think it works particularly well on this car, with the giant coupe doors.
Exactly this. With the Christmas / holiday toy season still fresh in my mind, I love that this car has a well-executed Matchbox effect. I like it even more for that reason.
When offered the choice of Bacon or Cheese, the correct answer is “Yes”. The Caprice looks quite good, it sort of works with the wheels, something about the rectilinearity of it all.
And put me down for sampling random diners too, at least you know nothing came out of some pre-prepared bag to be reheated like the chain places…
Alright I’ll bite. I don’t care for rims for the below reasons:
1. They f**k up the suspension geometry and subsequently handling and general ride quality
2. They are ridiculously expensive, often $1000+ per wheel
3. They look cartoonish
At the end of the day, you are paying an unjustifiable sum to decrease the objective qualities of your car all (mostly) in the name of vanity/signaling.
I mean I think we all could agree those rims would look ridiculous on a model T? Only slightly less so on the Caprice.
Oh Yes. All the above, yet it’s kinetic sculpture. The wheels – impossible at a glance – you ignore, and focus. Boom, beautiful body floating along.
It’s diametrically the same effect with the whole Lowrider crowd.
And it’s all on American Curbside Classic cars.
Perhaps the owner of this Caprice thought he’d get a bit more enjoyment out of these wheels with his extra spending money than a membership at the local golf country club. In any case, his car, his prize, his money, his choice.
While I agree with MB on those three points (and points 1-2 are arguably facts!), HERE is what offsets that…
THE GROWING DIVERSITY OF THE CAR CULTURE.
Donk wheels aren’t to my taste, but I LOVE that other people – and in this case, most likely younger people, and people from different backgrounds and cultures – are having fun with cars!
Before the “Fast & Furious” franchise, some of us wondered if the car hobby would die off with us. But Pop Culture led the way…just like it did six decades ago.
It was tempting to post the album version, given the Corvette & Grand Prix on the cover…but the way that version trails off early makes it a non starter.
THIS IS THE HIT VERSION.