​Roadster Diner

Roadster Diner

04-3399110
Downtown Dubai, Dubai

Imagine you’re at home, or at some spot that personifies home: your favourite chippy, or a café around the corner. But then you realise something’s off about this familiar place, and the more time you spend there, the more you realise that the place is not familiar – that you’ve never been there in your life. It’s as if the axis has shifted. This is what it was like for me eating at Roadster Diner, a Lebanese chain of mock American eateries. Roadster boasts all the traditional diner kitsch: red bar stools, giant milkshakes and busts of beloved pop figures Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra. But it all felt like a pastiche.

When my date and I visited the newly opened JBR branch, it was moderately full. Compared with the packed and hectic Dubai Mall outlet, this beachside venue felt relaxed. Service was acceptable, in that we were able to place our order in a timely fashion and our waitress was polite, though we were forgotten about at the meal’s end.

Before I ordered, I took a look around to see what everyone else was eating. Burgers seemed the way to go, so I chose a BBB burger, which was topped with cheese, beef bacon and an onion ring. The waitress didn’t ask how I wanted it cooked, but it didn’t matter: this is the type of place that serves all burgers well-done. When my patty arrived, the meat was spongy and fairly uninspiring. The fries, however, were nice and crisp.
It was difficult to know what to order besides burgers. Roadster doesn’t seem the type of place to go for pasta or Mexican food, but there wasn’t much else on the menu. My date opted for chicken quesadillas, which were satisfying in that standard greasy-spoon kind of way. The chicken, cheese, onions and peppers had congealed together in a lump under the tortilla shell (though at least it was a moist lump), and the sides were – again – a Twilight Zone version of the real thing. The guacamole was missing that silken avocado texture, and the salsa lacked spice.

Our desserts were mixed. My giant, calorie-laden Oreo milkshake was frothy and satisfying, though the mixed-in banana proved a bit atypical. My date’s strawberry cheesecake was creamy, but tasted processed. It’s not that the meal was bad, it was just a bit average and, as an American, I can say it didn’t quite nail the ’50s diner theme. But then I’m not the target audience, in the same way that Taco Bell is not aimed at Mexicans. For those that grew up with Roadster Diner in Lebanon, I’d imagine the place is good for scratching a nostalgic itch.