The Steel Trolley Diner, Lisbon Ohio

The steel trolley never sleeps. It runs through the night, burning a perpetual fuel of the best fries anywhere and award winning burgers, a sort of night train for the hungry of southern Columbiana county. I'd been there at night; i knew it's rhythms and it's feeling, a place that seemed in perpetual free-fall, forever waiting for the dawn. I'd been there in the afternoon, when it is truly a bustling hub of eating and commerce and discussion. But never had i been there in the morning.

I rolled out of bed at five-thirty AM, having gone to sleep at three PM the day before. I felt hung over, even though i hadn't touched anything in days. My gut was upset, my head was slightly throbbing, and my thinking was as muddied as Little Yellow Creek after three days of hard rains. I staggered into my bathroom, drained the viper, and proceeded into the computer room, intent on checking the news and contemplating going back to sleep. What should surprise me but my girlfriend, sitting there playing Texas Hold'Em on myspace. "What the hell are you doing up, i asked?" She gave some story about sleeping at her mother's, and, the words that got my attention: "I'd love to go to the Trolley right now!".

It took me a about five seconds to decide it was time to try the trolley's morning fare out.

After getting a quick shower and hopping into the Crown Vic, we set off for lisbon, seven AM and the sky looking like the strawberry milk i used to drink as a kid. The ride up was uneventful - a few school busses on the road, a general sense of "just waking up" in the world around us, as the trees shook off the dew in the morning winds.

We rolled into the city of lisbon - a run down town that has aspirations of being a historical center, but just comes off old and worn out, a once debutante gone to pot, her hair stringy and gut bulging, eye shadow smudged. The grand court house in gleaming cream-colored sandstone, the ancient brick facades of morgan's drugstore - sights that to an outsider might be poetic or interesting, but to me are just sign posts saying that the home of the basket of real fries approaches.

Finding parking wasn't a problem - the place was surprisingly empty. Four middle aged women were having a vigorous discussion, like something out of Sex and The City only tinged with some kind of possibly social-worker jargon and discussion of children's halloween costumes. They were so loud they drowned out discussion at my table. But i didn't care - my girlfriend was quite sleepy, and we were there for lunch, not for chit-chat.

The waitress was plump, older, and courteous beyond all reason. She kept our drinks filled, was prompt about asking if things were ok (three times!) and generally made us feel like we were the only people in the entire resturant. My drink had about 1/4th gone, she snags it up and fills it! We'd never seen her before, but she was very good.

For food, i got a fish sandwich and basket of fries (they ain't playing about the basket of fries - there had to be a pound worth!) . Beloved got a bowl of chili and a basket of "taco" fries.

To say that the fries are good is pointless: they are the best fries available, hands down. Their served in a basket, with a jar of vinegar and a ketchup bottle. The ketchup is of a high quality - heinz, most likely, a local favorite. The fries are fried to perfection, thin enough to be cripsy and crunchy, and are basically delicious. I (shamefully) didn't try the Taco fries but they looked pretty good, if messy. There wasn't any meat on them, if that means anything to you.

The chili was thick - real thick - and delicious. It had a definite bite to it, that you felt after you had it in your mouth for a while. It wasn't hot enough to be unpleasant, but it let you know it was there. The entire affair was very good, very filling, and very warm. They served it with crackers on the side, and it's overall appeal is pretty good. I could see eating it again, or even stopping in for just that.

The fish was massively battered and deep fried to perfection. the fish inside was white, but not as flaky as some. The taste was good though, and i dove right into it. I can't call it the best fish sandwich ever but it was delicious and filling.

I have to say the mornings in the trolley are their own unique time. Everyone's alert and awake and the city is waking up all around you - cars and trucks and heavy movers starting up, people walking and driving to work, a general sense of purpose about everything. From the front we could see main street, and watching the school busses go by was a real treat - from a kid who stared at me, to another who was furitively using dip in the back seat, spitting into a bottle while looking around suspiciously.

I don't need to sit here and sing the praises of the Trolley, but it's good any time of day - you should check it out if you're able.