All-day breakfasts, house-made soups and blue-plate classics such as fried chicken, meatloaf and country fried steak hit the Americana spot, but owner Harry Siafaris, who purchased the restaurant in 1971, offers Greek and broader Mediterranean specialties that are definitively the move.

At Chili John’s, you can get breakfast and a fresh mug of coffee, a burger, some onion rings or other straightforward staples, but the signature item is crucial to a Chili John’s experience. Opt for cheese fries, burgers, hot dogs and even bowls of spaghetti — Isaac’s usage allegedly predates Cincinnati’s claim to chili-pasta fame — all smothered in the stuff. At the holidays, look out for turducken chili, made with turkey, chicken and duck, but year-round, don’t skip the house-made pies.

The owner who operates Clark Street Bread brought the old 101 Coffee Shop back to life in 2021. The cooking under chef Juan Pablo Garcia is arguably the best the place has ever seen. Omelets will come out as pale or as browned as you request them. The yolks on the eggs Florentine burst onto the English muffin, spinach and (optional but recommended) kerchiefs of smoked salmon.

Architecture die-hards might flock to Foxy’s for the Midcentury Modern brass-and-stone fireplaces and the dining room housed beneath the angular, wooden A-frame roof, but regulars know the biggest draw of this 1964-built mainstay is the food: not just the American diner classics or the kitsch and convenience of having a toaster at your table but the range of Mexican specialties, especially at brunch.

The menu leans Hawaiian, with spam musubi and loco moco. There are two items food columnist Jenn Harris orders during every visit: the Hawaiian Royal and the garlic chicken. The first is what feels like a 10-pound plate of fried rice, chopped Portuguese sausage, chashu, eggs and diced green onion, drizzled with sweet teriyaki sauce. It can feed a family of four. The garlic chicken is boneless and fried, served with a sweet soy sauce punctuated with just a hint of garlic.

Roger and Carol Jongewaard opened their diner in 1965 on a corner perch of Atlantic Avenue in Long Beach’s Bixby Knolls neighborhood; the area has since flourished as a shopping and dining strip. Amid pancake and egg breakfasts and burgers or soothing pot roast for lunch and dinner, note the displays of cakes and pies that line the shelves behind the counter. Carol was renowned for her baking skills, and the restaurants, still run by members of the family, continue to use her recipes.

The SoCal restaurant chain, now with more than 20 locations, has grown into a diner empire since Norm Roybark opened the first Norms in Hollywood in 1949. There’s a Bigger Better Breakfast (eggs, all the breakfast proteins, hash browns and hotcakes or toast) on most tables.

Los Angeles is home to many a diner icon, but few are as boisterous and bustling as the Pantry. Seating stretches from the back of the historic landmark’s long dining room all the way to the caged, cash-only checkout register, but the prime seating is at the counter, overlooking the grill where cooks shuffle mounds of potatoes, plate-sized pancakes and the flattened, buttery planks of sourdough toast, which are, without exaggeration, requisite.

Spot the 1940s building with its stylishly curved entrance, and you’ve found one of L.A.’s diner gems. You’ll pass under the words “Delightful Food” as you enter Tal’s Cafe, and the advertisement is accurate — the soul food and classic breakfasts are always decent — but even more enticing than the salmon croquettes, the crisp, thickly sliced home fries and the perfectly crunchy fried chicken is the vintage charm of the place.

The Tallyrand is two parts diner, one part sports bar. A friendly server let us know that, during football season, Huell Howser used to sit at the end of the bar and eat his favorite, a hot turkey sandwich. The menu also alerts you to his other favorite, the turkey dinner. It’s as if your grandmother made you a plate at Thanksgiving, piled with sliced roasted turkey barely visible under gloppy gravy, with a heap of mashed potatoes and a scoop of dressing.

All diners feel like a time warp, but Rae’s is a special sort of trip. The cramped dining room, with its turquoise walls and royal blue stools, feels as if you’re eating breakfast inside an Easter egg, in the 1950s. It’s cash-only, and the old metal register looks like it was borrowed from a movie set. This is no-frills diner food, with no attempt made to modernize with plant-based or gluten-free options.