There are exactly nine tables for two in Westville, a comfy diner approximately the size of an A train car. Some diners (or “American traditional” restaurants, or “restaurants that serve comfort food” as they can be referred to now in New York) try too hard to meet expectations of the archetype—chrome, a Chuck Berry-intensive jukebox, checkerboard patterns on the tile floors or the menus or the tablecloths—when all I want is a clean, well-lighted place to sit, eat a sandwich and read.
Westville is just that place. The only things on the walls other than the menus are a few photos, two mirrors and a hand-painted woodcut of a trotting horse. Near my table, a glass vase of fresh flowers sat on the shelf among the extra ketchup bottles. And by the order-in window, a small rack of hooks had hanging on it someone’s purple backpack and a lavender canvas tote screen-printed with a stencil of Debbie Harry circa 1976.
I was in an odd dinner mood, craving both fresh vegetables as well as the opposite of fresh vegetables, which is bacon, so I ordered a salad special that featured four jumbo scallops wrapped with prosciutto atop arugula salad greens, orange segments, purple onions, cherry tomatoes and avocado slices: an unusual yet flavorful summery mix. My side of fries arrived in a white ceramic salad bowl big enough to serve four, easily. “Is this really a side portion of fries?” I asked my server. She said, “I always tell people, ‘Are you sure you want the side of fries? It’s a lot of fries.’” Which was strange because I don’t remember her revealing this. She was however able to sway me to try the peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream. It wasn’t as crusty as I like it but there ain’t no cure for the summertime blues like cobbler.
Westville
- 210 W. 10th St. (between Bleecker and West 4th Streets)
- (212) 741-7971
- Meal 25 of 52: salad with prosciutto-wrapped scallops ($17), Bass Ale ($5), giant salad bowl of fries ($5) and peach cobbler with ice cream ($6).