Harold’s is a love-it-or-hate-it sort of place. You walk into the tiny diner covered with bumper stickers, some of them on the risqué side (“Yankees Suck” is one of the more mild signs—the owner is also a Red Sox fan). You seat yourself (woe be to you if you are in a group larger than two; don’t count on sitting together), and tick off your choices from the form-like menu of diner standards like omelets and burgers. Eat your food–this isn’t a place for chitchat or lollygagging–and pay your bill in cash. If any of the above is not for you, you may want to go elsewhere, but keep in mind the restaurant’s motto: “Eat here or we both starve.”
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Service with a Smirk
Harold’s is a love-it-or-hate-it sort of place. You walk into the tiny diner covered with bumper stickers, some of them on the risqué side (“Yankees Suck” is one of the more mild signs—the owner is also a Red Sox fan). You seat yourself (woe be to you if you are in a group larger than two; don’t count on sitting together), and tick off your choices from the form-like menu of diner standards like omelets and burgers. Eat your food–this isn’t a place for chitchat or lollygagging–and pay your bill in cash. If any of the above is not for you, you may want to go elsewhere, but keep in mind the restaurant’s motto: “Eat here or we both starve.”
