The Diner Finder is the Internet's best source of real diner information.No one has a greater love and/or obsession with diners than Larry Cultrera. I can probably count on one hand the number of people who even come close, and that number would not include me. So, when Larry announced a while back that he would write a guide book to the diners of the Bay State, my first thought was "It's about *%$#@ time!" I could not imagine a roadside library without a diner book authored by Larry.

Reedy Press, St. Louis, Missouri, $14.95
Ann M. Hazelwood is a show-me native who has authored several Missouri-based food and travel books; a previous book entitled 100 Unique Eats and Eateries in Missouri (which I have not seen), inspired her to write the present breakfast volume.
With the hey-day of the printed travel guide now fading distantly into our rear view mirrors, I consider a book such as Drive I-95 with a measure of curiosity. Having recently put another 3000 miles on my car traveling back roads and interstates, I found greater utility in my iPhone than in any printed map or guide. Then again, I've always resisted relying upon someone else's suggestions during my travels.
Looking through the latest edition of Drive I-95 by the Posners, Stan and Sandra, I come away impressed by its comprehensive nature and its good-natured tone. When I think road trip, the thought of driving down Interstate 95 inspires about as much joyous anticipation as a trip to the dentist, but just try avoiding the road when attempting a trek down the eastern seaboard. Well, actually, I think about that all the time, and I spend an inordinate amount of time planning alternate routes.
Back in 2001, right after we published our profile of the once and future great city of Pittsburgh entitled "Burgh Well Done" in issue 31, I had the great fortune to meet Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist Brian O'Neill. Brian congratulated me on my wandering exploration of the city I subtitled "Around the world in 88 neighborhoods" and invited me to take a little trip with him.
In a city so steeped in heritage, I couldn't possibly get to everything, but Brian made me want to kick myself for not seeking him out sooner. Though not a native, his work for the paper made him all-too-familiar with my "great discovery." As if to prove that point, Brian took me to the Our Lady of Sorrows church in nearby McKees Rocks where every week the fine ladies of the parish make their mouth-watering pizzas.
For a magazine that began as a love letter to diners and grew into a travelogue to the American back roads, a visit to a church basement on a remote hillside in the Ohio River valley hardly seemed like a good fit for Roadside. However, Brian knew as I did that the best stories come from connecting with actual people, sensing their character, and ultimately breaking bread with them. Though aesthetically unremarkable compared to all the diners, neon signs, and the whimsical roadside attractions featured in the pages of Roadside, that basement filled with the smells of baking dough and lit by the smiles on the women making the pies only crystalized my mission.