Honey's Sit 'n Eat South does Philly diner legacy proud
When a diner loses its soul, the meat loaf arrives welded to the plate in a brown sludge of unnaturally thick gravy. The bacon is ironed paper-flat, limp and dry. The cream of broccoli soup is lukewarm glop. The fried eggplant rounds are half raw. The coffee tastes like it was steeped through brown paper bags.