Grand Canyon 179 7th Avenue (1st & 2nd Sts.) Park Slope (718) 499-3660 Last ...

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179 7th Avenue (1st & 2nd Sts.)

Park Slope

(718) 499-3660

Last time I'd been to Grand Canyon (the restaurant) was sometime in the early '90s, when I needed pancakes and beer at a hungover 5 a.m. Not sure why I've avoided it since-there wasn't anything wrong with the place. It was just your basic 24-hour steaks and chops joint, one step above a diner. Maybe I'd never been back for the simple reason that it was so easy to ignore. Brick front, small windows, nothing flashy. One more doorway among so many others.

But as the years passed, I couldn't help but notice that Grand Canyon was one of the few places that survived on 7th Ave. Like Snooky's and The Greek Corner, it hadn't been replaced by a nail salon or a cellphone store. In that, I suppose, it became almost symbolic.

So one recent afternoon when the restaurant we were planning to be at turned out to be an overcrowded nightmare, I suggested Grand Canyon. There was nothing to lose.

After stepping into the dark-paneled interior and taking a seat at one of the small tables near the front window, I began to realize why the Grand Canyon has survived as long as it has, despite the fact that it was almost empty.

The first clue was the menu. At heart, Grand Canyon is almost comically all-American, serving burgers and fries, vanilla cokes, fried chicken, ice cream and the like at reasonable prices. But the more you scrutinize the menu, the more you notice that it's about 12 pages long-and seems to offer every food in the world. Chinese, Italian, Indian, French, it's all there, someplace. I've always been amazed by a kitchen that offers to whip up anything in the world at a moment's notice.

Considering the visit a simple test run, we stuck to the basics, ordering a cheeseburger deluxe ($7.50) and a hot open-faced turkey sandwich ($9.25 with two sides).

Then I noticed that the staff was comprised of East Indian men wearing crisp white jackets. Serving burgers and hot dogs. One stood by the register. Two others took turns wandering amongst the tables. Others were sitting around in the back dining room. The radio was playing top-40 hits from the early '80s.

The food was decent. Not "wondrous" or "glorious" as restaurant reviewers are inclined to claim, but what you'd expect from a steaks & chops joint-and cheap.

So why has Grand Canyon survived while so many other places have failed?

Looking at the menu, looking around me, it became obvious that Grand Canyon was, in fact, a point of intersection with some strange, alternate universe, wholly unaffected by the physical or economic forces that control our own. There are too many incongruities for anything else to make sense.

We've been back since, and we'll beback again. For some reason, I just feel comfortable there.