The Manhattan Three Decker Restaurant served up classic diner foods to Greenpoint, Brooklyn when the long-time owners decided they wanted to retire. Late in 2019 the business was listed for sale and many bemoaned the loss of an institution that had served both the old timers and the new wave of young people flocking the area.

The restaurant first opened in 1945 on the corner of Norman and Manhattan Avenue, known then as the Three Decker Sandwich Shop. It was smaller then it is now, sharing the building with two other businesses. A property tax photo from 1940 shows the three separate spaces.

A fire at the restaurant in 1952 displaced ten families, and caused a “minor explosion” in the restaurant. Nobody was injured.

By the 1960s, the restaurant was known as Manhattan 3 Decker. Sometime between the 1960s and 1980s, the restaurant expanded into the other storefronts adding a diner counter and expanding the kitchen. The current retro facade dates from that conversion and has remained unchanged over several renovations, including one in 2010. New York Shitty reports that in August of that year, the restaurant closed for several weeks to update the interior, and held a grand opening on August 26.

The latest incarnation of the restaurant, now known as Three Decker Diner, was led by Gavin Compton, who is responsible for Variety Coffee Roasters. He and partners also operate mini-chain Blue Collar, which has a location just down the street from Three Decker. They soon set about reimagining the restaurant as a classic but slightly more upscale diner.

As with the last renovation, the exterior facade remained mostly unchanged, while the interior was given an update. The new restaurant group added liquor to the beer and wine selection as well, making the backroom bar more fully functional.

The designer embraced the retro diner feel, creating a colorful menu with throwback graphics that are both whimsical and nostalgic at the same time. Ironically the vintage restaurant menus were flimsy paper printed with 1-color process. The updated menu also saw the elimination of many of the classic Greek dishes, a holdover from a different era when Greek immigrants dominated the northeast diner cuisine. The menu now includes more Mexican-inspired dishes, though there are some classic Italian American red sauce dishes still clinging on too.

When the revamped restaurant launched in early 2023, it was a near instant hit. It’s not many diners that get a shout out in the New York Times, and the usual suspects at Eater and the Infatuation had good things to say too.

Obviously we wanted in on this classic diner experience. On our first attempt, we rolled up with a toddler fast asleep in his stroller, but couldn’t wait the forty minutes for a table (he would have woken up, ruining both our meal, and everyone else’s). We mistakenly ended up at a terrible ramen shop across the street – what was perhaps my worst meal of the 2020s, so far.

We made another attempt a few weeks later with the same result. Now, two years after the relaunch, the crowds are not nearly as big, and at off hours, it’s easy enough to walk right in. We’ve now been there twice, once for a late lunch, and then for an early dinner.

On our first successful outing, we arrived just after the lunch rush and were sent to the back bar room. In retrospect, this somewhat separate space was likely the original sandwich shop that opened in 1945, and houses a bar. We were the only seated table in the room. The other tables were set for the dinner rush, and a few of the staff were on break having a meal at the bar.

To test things out, we ordered some classic diner sandwiches. In my case, I went with a Reuben, which is a pretty standard go to for me at diners. The sandwich was a bit greasy, even for a Reuben, but satisfying. I much prefer the melt-style sandwich over the open-face sandwich. Both, I think, are valid expressions of the Reuben, but its easier to eat when twice slices of toasted bread are pressed together.

I also ordered Disco Fries, a diner essential I grew up eating at diners in North Jersey. Disco Fries have been compared to poutine, but are much more Jersey than that. It’s usually mozzarella cheese topped with brown gravy. The most likely origin is a diner in Clifton that catered to late night partiers leaving New York City, who stopped on their way home to the Jersey suburbs. That was an era when you could drink and drive with impunity.

I’ll probably rehash this bit every time I have disco fries at a diner, but the thing is they were once a very local north Jersey food, available in Passaic and Bergen county diners. Since then they creeped into south Jersey and as far north as Connecticut, where I’ve had them at several of the Athena diners along I-95. But Disco Fries have been historically difficult to acquire in New York City, though that started changing in the last ten or so years.

The Triple Decker Disco fries were a bit light on the gravy. But the cheese was thick and stringy, just like it should be. Mozzarella is preferred, but some diners will use American. The diner also used stake fries, which is not correct. There is too much potato relative to the cheese and gravy, but it’s hard to complain about disco fries.

My wife had a turkey melt with bacon and cheddar cheese, served alongside curly fries, which all looked perfectly diner-tastic.

As for the four-year-old, he had his go-to: skinny fries. He ate some of them, and then went back to playing on his tablet.

Our second trip was a bit later in the evening. It started getting dark outside, and I worried we would run into a dinner rush. But all restaurants end up losing their luster with the trend chasers. There was one table that was ready to be cleared as we walked in. We waited near the front of the restaurant while the hostess cleaned it up, and another manager emerged and nearly sat a new couple at the booth. It was a bit of miscommunication from the front of house that is rare to see these days.

The table we were seated at was an oddly shaped three-person booth. One side was big enough for two, but the side I sat on was built into a building column, and so the seat was not as wide as a two-person side.

We started with fried zucchini sticks, a crispy, zesty mess of vegetable and batter, served with marinara. Whether or not they were house made or frozen didn’t matter: they were fried well enough that I can’t complain: crispy and with good flavor. The marinara was more savory than sweet, though a bit thin.

We both ordered burgers. My wife went with a Hatch Chili burger that was topped with Hatch chilies. It was appropriately spicy, though on the backside of the bite. The spice linger a bit.

The chilies on the burger added spicy kick

I went with a burger topped with onions, barbecue sauce and cheese. It wasn’t fancy, but it was satisfying with a bit of sweet sauce and crunchy onions. The onion rings on the side were good enough.

The Triple Decker has quickly taken back its place again as a neighborhood institution. It’s not exactly a cheap diner, but it is a lower price point than plenty of the other upscale restaurants that have taken over the neighborhood in recent years, and it’s solidly American comfort food. Returning twice to a restaurant in a year says something about the experience.

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