Campus Sub Shop II: A Throwback to an Earlier Era

Springfield may only have , located on Route 22 near the Mountainside border, but hidden behind a tiny storefront on Morris Avenue, our downtown has a luncheonette, with a menu as diverse as a diner's -- and lots of character.

The cryptically named  may lead you to picture a Blimpie-like store behind the facade, but instead, the tiny shop is deli, diner and convenience store rolled into one. Want a Western omelete at lunchtime? Breakfast is served all day. A corned beef sandwich? It's on the lunch menu, along with steak parmigiana, baked ziti, hot roast beef platter and chili dogs. In case that's not enough, Campus Sub Shop also sells eggs by the dozen, Boars Head cold cuts by the pound, milk, butter, ice cream, and even newspapers and cigarettes.

At lunchtime, most patrons sit at the bar, with a full view of most of the food preparation area. Deli sandwiches are assembled on a long cutting board, just a few feet to the right of a skillet that fries burgers, eggs, breakfast potatoes and more.

I instead took a booth, below a television playing a Nascar race. The counter area was busy, and when no one came to take my order for a chicken caesar wrap, I stepped to the counter to place it myself. The woman behind the counter apologized, and I don't fault her, as she had a counter full of customers in front of her. 

Several minutes passed, as did several customers and employees, before my wrap arrived on a small paper plate. One bite and I realized the delay was probably a result of everything being made to order here. The chicken was still warm, browned on the edges (no rubber chicken here), cut into tiny bite sized pieces. The first bite was dry, but after that, it went uphill as I got to the tangy caesar dressing and the crunchy Romaine. The wrap had just enough dressing to give it a good flavor, but not so much as to overwhelm or to make anything soggy. That and a bag of Cheetos made me a happy diner. 

 at almost the same booth, and this to say: 

The hamburger's large poppy-seed kaiser roll was impressive, as was the thick, crispy bacon inside—much more real than the bacon on a fast food burger. The hamburger patty was thin, but juicy and flavorful. The cheese, a bland slice of American.

The fries were large, thick-cut and unsalted—the antithesis of fast food fries. Mr. Bloomberg and the health police may approve, but the lack of salt annoyed me. I shook the salt shaker over the fries, but much of it bounced off the fries and onto the table.

Lastly, we said before and we'll say it again: The ambience here is surreal. Walk through the door and you feel transported to another time and place. In the three decades Campus Sup Shop II has been open, little has probably changed in the dining area, where giant mirrors cover pastel green and mauve-colored walls. The bar area is reminiscent of what a pharmacy and soda fountain may have looked like generations ago, with servers preparing food and making small talk with the regulars, who might include a construction worker having lunch with his teenage son or a truck driver eating fried eggs and homefried potatoes at noon while reading the newspaper, in print.  

It's an experience like none other in the area. 

Are you a fan of Campus Sub Shop II?