Great Scott those waffles are heavy!
But we never made it past. Looking at the outside I suddenly had visions of wearing a red "life preserve" and meeting my dad eating cereal at the bar.
As a 50s diner, Ed's is a little bit tacky, but charming in its own way. It sells Coronas and the staff are camp as Christmas, in contrast to the gruff man in a chef's hat from the movies, and the jukebox is fake. You can't expect any kind of authenticity from a Soho diner, that's not the point of Soho. You live the cliché, even if the buttons don't work.
In my state of over excitement I ordered both waffles and a strawberry milkshake. Both portions were supersized. Two giant waffles with maple syrup and ice cream, and then mixing cup of milkshake filled to the brim. The shake was thick and creamy but lacking a little flavour. More frustratingly, having taken a sip I realised they served Oreo flavour, the King of Milkshakes. The waffles meanwhile were reheated packaged affairs - given the open kitchen in the middle of the diner it wasn't so much that I felt tricked (it's not like the chef sneaked it out of the packaging and into the microwave) but I did expect a little more. Surely batter and a waffle iron would be cheaper in the long run?
I don't know, and to be honest I didn't care. At £7 for waffles, a milkshake, and half an hour of pretending to be Marty McFly I was a pretty happy customer, and so full I had to leave bent over double. The staff are friendly, leaning on the bar and chatting to us. One even sported a Grease-style hair do. It's a great place to wile away an unhealthy hour, but if I were in it for a serious meal I'd go to The Diner just off nearby Carnaby Street.