RESTAURANT REVIEW : A Greasy Spoon Survives Among Bland Imitators

Dozens of third-generation ‘50s diners have opened this year, each a font of such unthreatening kiddie fare as cheeseburgers, malteds and tuna sandwiches, and each resonant with happy customers and the blare of digitally remastered Buddy Holly.

These places are instant relics of the post-modern era, replicas of replicas based on sitcom sound stage replicas of movie replicas of some dimly imagined real thing. The smell of frying burgers is as glossily synthetic as the fabric that upholsters the brand-new rock ‘n’ roll, tuck ‘n’ roll booths.

Even as the number of new, spiffy simulacra continues to outpace that of new, illegitimate children of Elvis, actual atmospheric greasy spoons--Sun Valley’s amazing Pink Cafe, to name a particularly devastating recent loss--continue to shut down at an alarming rate.

Angelenos might be fascinated with their own recent past, but only that past that can be sanitized and repackaged. Most of the old-line diners that stay in business are of the obsessive-quality school, and such wonderful coffee shops as Du-Pars, Ship’s, and Burbank’s Pickwick Five Horsemen would seem to thrive in spite of their pre-Sputnik vintage, not because of it.

But the most interesting diners and drive-ins weren’t all that wholesome, and it was that scintilla of seediness, of otherness from home, that made the experience of taking breakfast out a bit of an adventure. (Denny’s is too plastic, and the International House of Pancakes sounds too much like an obscure sub-agency of the U. N. to be much fun at all.)

Eat ‘n’ Park is more like it, a pungent ex-drive-in near the northeast fringe of Burbank, across from an awesome Eero Saarinen-inspired supermarket and just down the street from Lockheed--you’ll see the exuberant, free-form ‘50s sign from several blocks away. There is a lunch counter up front, dominated by a large menu on a soft-drink-sponsored signboard, and a rear dining room with shiny leatherette booths. Waitresses may or may not call you “darlin’,” depending on their mood (canned orange juice, fresh customers), and easy-listenin’ music drips over the dining room like syrup over a short stack.

In the mornings, the place attracts knobby-kneed postmen the way a Winchell’s attracts cops: Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor . . . well, maybe gloom of night; the place closes at 2 p.m. . . . stays these couriers from their appointed rounds of coffee and Eat ‘n’ Park’s copious and fairly priced breakfast specials--bacon, sausage links, eggs, decent hot cakes or French toast. (Mailmen know good food, I’ve always heard. Or was that truck drivers?)

There is nicely grilled Polish and Italian sausage, and scalloped hash browns with onions that are among the best in town, and apple strudel that comes with drifts of cinnamon and cloudbursts of melted butter.

A big sign painted on the side of the building says, “Best Omelets in Burbank.” Though my knowledge of omelets in Burbank is far from definitive, I suspect you’ll find the best ones somewhere else. Here a thin, three-egg mat wraps huge portions of decent-enough fillings: Italian sausage with mounds of sauteed onions and green pepper; something like a Denver with those vegetables and minced ham; an odd thing involving Hoffy hot dogs and cheese; and 15 or so others.

Almost everybody seems to eat the filling and leave most of the egg mat, which is kind of rubbery. If you want, you can get these giant omelets even gianter for two.

Around noon, the postmen are replaced by burly Lockheed workers, many wearing union jackets that are emblazoned with stylized gears. Lunch, which reproduces diner food the way it really used to be, may not be your speed unless you are a hard-core nostalgia buff. Chicken-fried steak is authentically tough, and comes awash in authentic yellow Arkansas gravy. Cheeseburgers are the kind Mom warned you about, the sandwich equivalent of non-filter cigarettes and illicitly purchased Thunderbird, and come with manly fries. Beef-barley soup is an uncouth chum of a soup, a soup you’d never tell your best girl about. And shakes rattle and roll in your tum. Yum.

Eat ‘n’ Park, 2517 W. Victory Blvd., Burbank. (818) 843-9301. Open daily, 6 a.m.-2 p.m. Lot parking. No alcohol. No credit cards accepted. Breakfast for two $7-$12.