Upon moving to the West Coast many moons ago, South Jersey-raised actor Scott Patterson was in for a hearty serving of culture shock. But when it came to playing gruff-yet-gold-hearted diner owner Luke Danes on the early-aughts dramedy Gilmore Girls, he inhabited the role with ease. He’d grown up, after all, in the diner capital of the world, haunting Ponzio’s in Cherry Hill after school and working as a busboy and cook “all up and down the White Horse Pike.” His new cookbook, Dishes From the Diner: Classic All-Day Recipes (Union Square & Co.), is an homage to Garden State diner culture, the TV series that made him a household name, and the cherished Haddonfield kitchen of his youth.
You dedicated the book to your mom, Hope, and there are all these reminiscences of her—how your friends loved coming over to sit in the kitchen, and she’d bake her banana bread…:
She just always had this ability to connect with kids. My friends—half the time, I didn’t know whether they were coming over to hang with me or just to sort of get access to her wisdom and her love and her food. She fed the neighborhood, and she guided a lot of people.
Did she like diners herself?
Absolutely loved them. And she was practically a gourmet chef; she prepared some wonderful meals for us growing up. I think that’s how I became very adept at preparing meals that were a little different. One of the reasons I got my wife to marry me is, I cooked for her all the time…. Cooking and food have always been at the center of the best relationships that I’ve ever had.
You hung out after school often at Ponzio’s Diner in Cherry Hill. Do you remember the last time you went back?
Oh gosh, I haven’t been back there in so long. The last time I was in Haddonfield was 2019.
Was that for Scott Patterson Day?
That was the occasion, yes—shockingly so. It was an amazing full-circle moment…. The mayor at the time [Neal Rochford, who attended Haddonfield Memorial High School with Patterson]…remembered the legend, as it was. [Laughs] And he was very generous.
You’ve said that Haddonfield still ‘beckons’ to you.
It does. Not the property taxes, but everything else. [Laughs]
Do you remember what you would order at Ponzio’s?
Eggs, bacon, pancakes, OJ—or burgers and fries—were always my go-tos.
What’s your go-to these days?
Eggs, pancakes, bacon; burgers and fries; black-and-white milkshake; thanks very much. [Laughs]
I think you drink your coffee black—did you always?
I did, but now…there’s a very nice honey that I get in my area, and I put a spoonful in there.
Do you feel any palpable difference between Jersey diners and the ones in L.A.? Are people less willing to chow down out there?
No, but…the diner culture is more themed. Everything is so influenced by Hollywood and the studios that everybody thinks they need a gimmick. They do a pretty good job—there’s some interesting takes on ’50s, ’60s diner culture—but it’s more put-on. It’s like a show, almost—whereas back [in Jersey], it’s just sort of authentically what it is, and the people are authentically what they are, which really makes the culture. Nobody’s acting back there; they just are.
In the book, you say a patty melt is your desert-island sandwich. What’s one of your favorite diner-esque foods to cook?
I love cooking for my family when I have a minute—it relaxes me. I really look forward to it when I can. And [my son] likes…salmon with a barbecue sauce…. I make a mean bacon burger for him…. Seeking his approval is my life’s journey, I think. [Laughs] I just made him scrambled eggs. He likes the basics, like me, you know? It doesn’t get too fancy with him.
You’ve described the character of Luke Danes as this very Northeastern, post-World War II, staunch-work-ethic kind of guy. You said on a panel once that playing him was sort of a chance to inhabit your dad. Do you recall when you realized that? Was it early on, when you first read the Gilmore Girls script, or later?
After he passed away, I remember having a conversation…with some of his friends that he served with in World War II. And they talked about his grit and his work ethic—he was a boxer in the Army…and it kind of dawned on me that he just grinded away. And he was away a lot when I was growing up, but he was sacrificing for his family…. So it kind of hit me then, when they were telling stories about him.
And your grandfather owned a local paper in Jersey, didn’t he?
My dad’s side of the family, at one point…owned, I believe, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the [Camden Daily Courier, now the] Courier-Post…and the famous family story [was]…the Patterson men resoundingly rejected Walt Whitman on several occasions, and even physically threw him out of the paper because he was so annoying. They would crumble up and tear up his work and throw it in the garbage. Somebody was smart enough to save one or two, and those are dearly held family heirlooms now.
Wow, what a story…. What images first come to mind when you think of Haddonfield? You’ve talked about summers at Wedgewood Swim Club and riding your bike with friends, looking at the homes on Lane of Acres. What do you remember fondly?
Dreaming of a home on Lane of Acres, even back then. Yeah. Oh, God, it was such a great place to grow up. It was just a beautiful town—the greenery in the summer, and the trees. And the leaves in the fall—they’d be piled up on the sidewalks, and you’d dive into them on the way to school, on the way home. Just this beautiful childhood in that wonderful place. I’ve been so many places in the world, and I feel so lucky to have grown up there….You can feel the memories. You can feel the history. There’s something very grounded about that place—unchangeable, immutable. It’s hard to put into words…. I came very close to buying a place on Lane of Acres about 10 years ago, when you could afford it…. Post-Covid, everything just got out of reach. Like I said, I’m no fan of the property taxes there…. Maybe I’ll run for…I don’t know what a mayor can do to local property taxes. Maybe he’s got some power. I’ll look into that.
Or you could buy Ponzio’s!
Sure, sure. Why not?
This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
