By Jeremy Clay

There aren’t many restaurants that keep a visitor book handy for their long-distance customers to sign.

There are probably fewer without a Michelin star or three to justify the journey. Then again, there are precious few places around like the 50s American Diner.

Once upon a time, this 42-ton metal monster sat grandly by the roadside in Massachusetts Avenue, Boston.

Inside, the balloon-bellied blokes of Cambridge would while away the hours drinking steaming cups of Joe, eating their eggs over easy and saying things like “how ‘bout those Sox?” Or something.

Lord knows what they’d have said if they’d have been told their favourite greasy spoon would one day find a home more than 3,000 miles away in an ex-mining village called Church Gresley.

It’s been there ever since the owners bought it on a whim, on eBay.

You’ll find the diner along the road from Measham. There are two ways to get there. A good way, and a bad way. We took the bad one, down a twisty back road through a forlorn sort-of industrial estate.

“Are you sure about this?” said my daughter, as we turned past a dilapidated building with half its windows smashed in. “Yes,” I lied.

But then there it was, in all its incongruous glory: a shiny vision of silvery Americana, blasting out rock ’n’ roll.

It would be impossible not to smile as you walk past the baseball player figure and open the door on a scene from another age. In another country.

It’s a true labour of love, this place: immaculately restored and dotted with souvenirs and artefacts.

There are vintage ads and old number plates on the walls, and a jukebox on the swish counter that sweeps off to the far side of the carriage.

Even the waitresses wear retro dresses, as if they’ll soon be off on a date with the Fonz.

“Have they come over from America too?” whispered my daughter, thrilled by the notion.

Erm no. And happily, none of them are affecting any cod-Americanisms. Instead, you get warm, friendly service, in the hugely-pleasing surroundings of an eaterie which hasn’t confused mimicry with pastiche.

Hang on a sec: we’ve almost reached the end of the review and I haven’t mentioned the food.

Well, it’s exactly as you’d hope. Steaks, burgers and hot dogs, with the odd Mexican flourish like chilli and a couple of fish dishes, too. Classic diner menu grub, in fact.

We started with nachos and cheese and some corn on the cob, washed down with a gorgeously thick shake and a black coffee (with unlimited refills to boot).

Elsie had a burger topped with cheese and pineapple; I had a spicy bean burger. Both came with fries and a serviceable salad, and both meant we had no room for pudding.

It was all done to a decent standard. But to be frank, it’s not the food that makes people seek out this dot on the map on the wrong side of the Leicestershire-Derbyshire border.

Instead, it’s the happy prospect of sitting in a booth in a genuine US diner, run by people with boundless affection for cafe culture.

Yes, it's curious to be recommending a restaurant, and not for the food. But there you have it.

Let’s go back to that visitors’ book. It’s crammed with words like “amazing” and “brilliant” written by customers from here, there and everywhere.

It’s the verdict of a family from Lincolnshire that stands out most. “Well worth the 90-mile trip.”

What more could you need to know?

Oh yes, the price. The bill came to £27.05 for two. Not exactly cheap, but a bargain for a night out we’re still talking about fondly a month later.

Book a booth though. You’d be surprised how easily a diner fills up. Even one in Church Gresley.

Info

The 50s American Diner, John Street, Church Gresley. Ring 01283 220 050.

www.the50samericandiner.bravehost.com

Rating: 4/5