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An All-Nighter at Elgin Street Diner
An All-Nighter at Elgin Street Diner

CBC

time12-05-2025

  • Business
  • CBC

An All-Nighter at Elgin Street Diner

An All-Nighter at Elgin Street Diner Words by Robyn Bresnahan l Photos by Denny Alexander CBC News May 12, 2025 On Day One at Elgin Street Diner, owner Ron Shrybman purposely tossed the keys to the restaurant down the grate of the street sewer, just outside the front door. The 23-year-old was opening a place that never closed: somewhere people from all walks of life could sit down for a meal, at any time of the day or night. And in the nearly 32 years since opening, the doors have never been locked. 'There is no key. And no alarm. We are open — always,' Shrybman says. Ottawa used to have more old-school diners like this. But Shrybman says they gradually disappeared and were especially hit hard by the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Elgin Street Diner has managed not only to survive but to inspire a loyal following. Chris Chown, a youthful-looking server, has worked at the diner for about 20 years. Five of his co-workers have been there even longer, from the moment the restaurant opened on Nov. 11, 1993. 'There's something about this place that just kind of fits,' Chown says. 'Something special about it.' Over a cup of coffee in one of the diner's turquoise booths, Shrybman shares a story about a young mother who came in with her three-day-old baby for a milkshake. That baby — now 32 years old — recently returned to the diner with her child in a bassinet, asking for the same order. 'It was now the family tradition that they would come on the way home and have a milkshake,' Shrybman says. To see what makes Elgin Street Diner such a magnet for a wide variety of Ottawans, I decided to pull an all-nighter myself. I set up at a table with a view of the whole diner to meet the servers and the regulars from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. It's an eclectic mix of people, which is just how Shrybman envisioned it all those years ago. 'I didn't care who you are, what you are, what religion, sexual orientation,' he says. 'As long as your credit card worked, I didn't care. 'And that's still the same today.' At the back of the diner, four friends have pushed two tables, and their heads, together. The second-year Carleton University engineering students have an exam tomorrow and this is their cram session. They've all got laptops and study notes filled with mathematical equations. There are half-eaten plates of poutine and metal cups filled with milkshakes topped with whipped cream. The diner is loud and will only get louder. Somehow, though, the students find the bustle…comforting. 'I grew up with a very loud family, so I'm kind of used to having background noise,' says Jillian Langille. 'It actually helps me focus.' One of her study partners, Alric Abdella, takes a slurp of his mint milkshake. He figures they'll be here until about one o'clock in the morning. 'Last time we studied here it worked pretty well,' he says. 'So we were like, hey, they have pretty good milkshakes." This isn't strictly a study session. It's also a double date. Devin Lothrop, one half of another pair within the group, laughs loudly when I put two and two together. His girlfriend, Michelle Mietla, says they have no idea what the future holds when they graduate. She wanted to be an astronaut when she was younger and hopes one day to land at the Canadian Space Agency. 'But who knows where I'll end up,' Mietla says. One hour to midnight, Chown starts his overnight shift. He'll be here until 7.a.m. The Elgin Street Diner veteran waiter is a calming presence: weaving seamlessly between tables, balancing plates of burgers and poutine, and stopping frequently to chat with customers. 'I'll go to sleep around 9 a.m.,' Chown says. The late shift can get…tricky. Fights have broken out. Another longtime server, Tony St-Martin, tells me about the time a guy came in, ripped a metal coat rack off the side of a banquette and swung it over his head. On that occasion, they called the cops. Other times, the customers jump up to help. 'Sometimes we have bouncers in here from the other bars at the end of the night, so they've helped us keep the peace,' St-Martin says. 'I didn't care who you are, what you are, what religion, sexual orientation. As long as your credit card worked, I didn't care.' Ron ShrybmanOwner, Elgin Street Diner Sean Van Liempt and his partner Chad Buffel have been coming to the diner for decades. Tonight they're having some late-night bites: Shepherd's pie for Van Liempt, an egg omelette with a banana milkshake on the side for Buffel. They're also here to catch up with a dear friend. Khaled Alhaj Hamoud came to Ottawa 10 years ago as a Syrian refugee. Van Liempt and Buffel were part of the group that sponsored Khaled and his partner. 'We are still very close friends,' Alhaj Hamoud says. 'They are family.' Alhaj Hamoud grew up in the Syrian countryside outside Damascus, where his parents still live. He went back three years ago to visit them and thinks about them a lot. But his roots are here now. 'I'm Canadian. I'm happy here. I belong here more,' says Alhaj Hamoud, who manages a Bridgehead Coffee House. He laughs, pointing to the remnants of poutine on his plate. 'This is like my passport.' The future engineers have left but other students and a big group of Toronto Maple Leafs fans, on the heels of the night's playoff victory against the Senators, have streamed in. The diner's decibel level is rising. At a table of university-aged customers, one tipsy-looking man downs coffee creamers like they're shots. Amid this late-night crowd is an older, white-haired gentleman sitting alone by the kitchen pass. His name is Paul Green, and he's drinking a pot of tea and reading a newspaper called Le Monde Diplomatique. 'Partly to keep up my French,' he says. Green is retired. He's a night owl and comes to the diner to use the wifi because he doesn't have it at home. After his tea, he'll order his usual: garlic bread with cheese, sometimes with fries. 'I always feel guilty after eating them,' he says of the latter. Green used to work for the federal government, in the translation bureau, and later at Glebe Video International, one of the last places in the city where you can still rent DVDs. He keeps coming back to Elgin Street Diner because the staff are friendly and the portions generous. There's the people-watching too, Green adds. 'I know someone who brings his own Grey Poupon Dijon mustard. They don't have Dijon mustard here. But they let him bring in his own. He's very discreet about it.' Another burst of customers comes through the diner's front door. It's the post-bar crowd. Some make their way down the narrow hall to the bathrooms, not walking in a straight line. Rich Chris and Kenzi Drew take a seat at a table for two near the entrance. They've just come from band practice with a group called Casual Tragedies. Drew has her guitar case propped up next to her. Chris works the afternoon pick-up route for FedEx, waking up at 12:45 p.m. and starting his shift shortly after. While it might be the middle of the night, for Chris, this is his 'regular dinner time,' he says. 'I'm gonna be up 'til four in the morning at least, I think.' Rich and Kenzi were a couple for six and a half years until they split up. They still care about each other, Rich says, but it's now a plutonic kind of love. 'He's my bass player,' Drew says with a laugh. Finally, at around 4:30am, the diner quietens. There are only four customers left, including a couple seated by the front window. They've been here for five hours, talking, drinking coffee and listening to music on their phones. Chown and two other employees clear and wipe the remaining tables. 'Chaotic,' Chown says when asked to describe the night. 'But that's not rare or not uncommon for an overnight here. I'm sure tomorrow will be even more chaotic.' That's because tomorrow is Friday. Well actually, today is Friday, even if the sun has yet to rise. In another half hour, Chown says, the breakfast crowd will start to arrive: teachers from Lisgar Collegiate, police officers and other familiar faces. 'Regulars keep this place alive, for sure.' About the Author Footer Links My Account Profile CBC Gem Newsletters Connect with CBC Facebook Twitter YouTube Instagram Mobile RSS Podcasts Contact CBC Submit Feedback Help Centre Audience Relations, CBC P.O. 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