When I first walked into the Hartland Diner, Bernie Sanders stood in the entryway, Anthony Fauci leaned casually against a wall, and Barack Obama lurked in a corner — all in the form of cardboard cutouts.
The presence of these liberal icons won't surprise anybody who has made a pre-visit stop at the diner's Facebook page, where owner Nicole Bartner — a law school grad and self-proclaimed theater nerd — shares some of her beliefs. "It's not politics," she told Seven Days. "What I'm messaging are progressive values; they're human rights."
One line of her online mission statement for the diner, which she opened in 2013, calls for "Dignity and Respect for ALL humans" — and that extends to folks with whom she disagrees. "I don't care if you want to wear a dumb [red] hat," she explained. She hopes those customers will benefit from being exposed to other views, she said: "If you're here, you're marinating in these messages, you're present with it, and you bought a meal."
On the day I visited, the crowd was indeed eclectic — a sign that folks will put aside their differences for classic diner fare. A New Hampshire woodsman, perched at the edge of his turquoise barstool, was keen on sharing literal war stories. An older couple, ensconced in a comfy booth, ate quietly at their squiggle-patterned Formica table. At the three-sided central bar, energetic children enjoyed the diner's ample assemblage of plastic dinosaurs.
The nine-page menu may be even more intimidating than the resident T. rex. It features all the trademarks of a diner: loaded hash browns ($15), build-your-own scrambles (prices vary), a corned-beef-hash plate ($25) and slices of freshly baked pie ($10). Meatless offerings include veggie hash browns (from $8), a tofu scram (from $6) and multiple types of vegan breakfast tacos ($12).
In many cases, the laminated menu's neon-yellow, handwritten pages spell out extra details and elucidate sustainably minded twists.
"Hartland Diner Corned Beef Hash is a labor of Love & pure Yankee stubbornness," it reads. "It takes us DAYS to make this." Why so long? The brisket is local, brined and slow-cooked for a full day before being mixed with hand-cut potatoes, onions and bell peppers.
Pancakes (from $15) are made from "Blood, Sweat & Gluten," the menu proclaims. Although the flavors are legion, there are no bodily fluids among them. Instead, the list includes more palatable ingredients such as peanut butter M&M's, chocolate chips, and raspberries.
While many diners aim to wow customers with the number of flapjacks in a stack, the Hartland diner goes for girth. Initially skeptical about spending $20 on a lonely, single-flavor 'cake — albeit one studded with maple-candied walnuts — I was mollified when the radius of that pancake was nearly equal to the length of my hand. Slathered with butter and accompanied by a generous cruet of maple syrup, the serving was substantial enough for a family of four.
Wanting to follow my sweet order with something savory, I struggled to choose among the local steak Benedict, Irish Benedict and Mexican Benedict, the last of which is served on a housemade black bean burger. That conundrum could be solved by ordering a "flight" of Benedicts. While a single Benedict is $20, indecisive eaters can go up from there. The apex is an $80 flight that gets you a whopping 12 Benes.
Got a smaller appetite — or budget? There are a dozen $5 breakfasts available, plus a whole page of à la carte offerings.
I left more than sated — and with leftovers to share. On my way out, I asked Bernie if he wanted some. For some reason, he didn't answer.