Elite Restaurant

flipping the bird hello, comments like, «i’ll miss the shit out of him»… fun, quirky, friendly in a rough way. i like it

This place really only has one thing going for itself, it’s inexpensive. Few dollars will buy you a lot of calories. Beyond that, it’s essentially the place described in Mcslimj’s review. If you’re looking for a healthy meal, look elsewhere.

Townie dive of a diner with more atmosphere than quality in the breakfast cooking.
Some meals can bring you back vividly to your childhood, perhaps because your sense of smell and long-​term memory are centered in adjacent areas of the brain. I experienced breakfast déjà vu recently at Elite Restaurant, a tiny, humble Eastie diner that cooks a lot like my mom did: pancake mix from a box, toast made from Wonder bread, Mrs. Butterworth and whipped oleo/​butter blend on the table. There’s even an accordioned crêpe-​paper Hallmark centerpiece in the window.
One difference is that, when I was a kid, I didn’t have aunties around who swore like sailors, as the nice ladies at the other end of the nine-​stool counter do here. The Elite is a working-​class greasy spoon, the kind of joint where there’s always a cop or state trooper picking up a big order for his buddies, and F-​bombs casually work their way into every conversation.
A huge, bottomless mug of good filter coffee ($ 1.20) is a promising start. Nothing’s fancy here: cream is served out of a paper coffee cup passed around the counter. The short whiteboard menu starts with a giant three-​egg omelet ($ 7) of the hearty, heavy school, with American cheese and either ham, decent pork breakfast sausages, or strips of well-​crisped bacon. Or you can get two eggs with ham, sausage, and bacon ($ 6), unremarkable (likely canned) corned-​beef hash ($ 7), or a chewy eight-​ounce sirloin ($ 9). These plates include standard-​issue homefries and toast, of which scali is the least Wonder bread-​like option. Pancakes ($ 4.25) are a stack of three: big and filling, perhaps a little underdone or in need of more browning on a hotter griddle. French toast ($ 4.25) starts from that same lamentable supermarket bread.
Folks needing to take their breakfast on the run may opt for egg sandwiches ($ 4.50) with American cheese and bacon, ham, or sausage, though I’m not sure how you eat the accompanying home fries in your car. Bagels ($ 1.75) and muffins ($ 1.50) appear to come from the same commercial-​bakery supermarket aisle as the bread for toast ($ 1.25). Aside from coffee and tea ($ 1.20), your other drink options are cans of soda and a few juices like V-​8 ($ 1.25). In short, despite the ironic name, the Elite delivers a solid if not particularly from-​scratch breakfast at decent prices without polish or pretense. Even with crummy food, I’ll take breakfast at an old-​timey, independent neighborhood joint like this over a shiny national-​chain outlet any day.