There is nothing that distinguishes one Waffle House from the next.  Each of these coffee shops I’ve visited while driving through the south is similarly located (tucked in the awkward corner of a highway exit or entrance ramp) and similarly finished (with flat brick facades and a low yellow roof).  The interiors have an authentic, sleepy, diner feeling, with sweet waitresses, mild coffee, and a mess of cooking paraphernalia (including professional waffle grills) visible behind the counter.  There are red plastic banquettes, counters with spinning stools, and low-hanging white globe lights.  The store’s signature feature is the mile-high sign out in front, which frames each letter individually, Wheel-of-Fortune-style.  It’s a beautifully balanced graphic.

McDonalds used to provide the most consistent presence on the highways.  But nowadays you don’t know what you’ll find when you step into one: a large restaurant with a giant play area, a fancy one-off prototype (like the one in Times Square in New York), or an old design with depressing, out-of-date finishes.  In comparison Waffle House provides a comforting predictability.  Forget the golden arches–