I love greasy spoons — the Formica and chrome and bacon and eggs and hot turkey sandwiches smothered in gravy. It appears I’m not alone.

Last week, after a fire closed the Detroit Eatery on the Danforth, I wrote a tribute to classic, independent diners. Though there are fewer than there were before, I noted, there are still a lot left to be enjoyed and cherished. I mentioned a bunch.

Readers, lots of readers, wrote to let me know about their own favourites that I’d missed.

“Please include the Good Bite on Yonge near Castlefield,” LeeAnn Boyd wrote in an email. “Owner cooks, longtime waitresses, booths, and stools, same owner for 40 years-plus. A timeless simple haven in North Toronto. I love their fries and gravy with anything, but especially a simple toasted tomato sandwich.”

Boyd wasn’t alone in pointing to the Good Bite, probably the most egregious omission in my original story judging by the number of people who proclaimed their allegiance to it. And her short love note checked off many of the basic points that make a good diner so beloved: tradition, a relationship with the staff, a sense of place, and simple but tasty food.

“I never thought a newspaper article about greasy spoons would make me tear up!” one tweeter wrote. But the personal touch can make us grow attached.

“Remember this column every time you eat in a foodcourt,” tweeted Stephen Tustin. “What sheep we are! Seat yourself. Serve yourself. Check yourself out. Put this desk together yourself. Pump you own gas. Why?”

In a time of fast food and disposable brands, the places and people we’ve spent time with are the stuff of good memories, and personal traditions. “You missed a great one,” Terry Klodt, a retired police detective, wrote. “The Ontario Restaurant at Dundas St. E. and Ontario. When I joined the Toronto Police Force in 1971 and was assigned to 51 Division, The Ontario was one of the places to eat. Run by Peter and his wife Gena. The hamburgers tasted like my mother’s. Sit down meals were all-day breakfasts or meals like short ribs and liver and onions (my sergeant’s favourite). They used to live above the eatery. Their son Paul runs it now and his daughter is a waitress. I still eat there on occasion, and in December, ran into a former police woman I worked with in plainclothes in 1979. What a delight.”

See, you get those simple things right, they become a tradition that lasts decades. Until they’re gone.

One place I did mention last week was the Bus Terminal on Danforth near Coxwell, which had survived on and off for decades under different owners, but a few readers quickly pointed out it has recently closed again, apparently for good — a sports bar has opened there.

On the other hand, I lamented the loss of the Suburban restaurant at Lawrence and McCowan in Scarborough, and though it is gone, Jane Martin writes, “everyone in our neighbourhood loves Sammy’s,” which has moved into the same location. “Lots of regulars, ridiculously reasonable food, terrific waitresses — always, always busy breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Martin also has another favourite. “Must also tell you about the Avenue Diner on Davenport just west of Avenue Rd,” a spot mentioned by many readers. “Has been there since 1945. I grew up just north of there. Walking in there is like walking into the 1950s.”

Among the others that drew lots of love from readers: the Skyline in Parkdale; the Dundas Street Grill on Kipling at the Six Points, Billy’s at Dovercourt and Bloor; The George Street Diner, Fran’s, the New York Deli, and The Senator downtown; Bam! Breakfast and Bistro in the Beaches; and Ari’s on Roncesvalles.

Out on the Danforth near Donlands, “Motorama has perfected the breakfast sandwich. A true masterpiece,” Amélie Matte Zakaib writes. And in the same neighbourhood, on Donlands just north of Cosburn, is the Ritz, mentioned by three different readers. “It’s an oddball place,” Richard Sharp tweets. “Decor is 1950s (legitimately hasn’t been reno’d in half a century). Menu is diner food but also has a Filipino breakfast. Their club sandwich is simple but good.”

One reader said I and those discussing it on Twitter were blurring the lines too much between greasy spoons (good for breakfast and club sandwiches) and burger places. But there does seem to be a lot of overlap in some of those places — and readers suggested a lot of burger joints, including Apache Burger in Etobocoke, Square Boy on Danforth (four bites more!), Johnny’s Hamburgers in Scarborough, and Burger Shack in north Toronto. If we’re counting those kind of Greek-influenced burger-and-souvlaki grills, I’d add Alexandros on Queens Quay downtown. But then we’re into the realm of gyro huts — and where do you stop?

Maybe, as Tim LeMule suggested on Twitter, you don’t stop. “Sneaky Dees isn’t quite a greasy spoon but feel like it should be on the list. Can get a huge bacon and egg breakfast any time of day.” It’s definitely not a greasy spoon. The College St. bar has been more known over the years for cheap beer, loud music and absolutely killer nachos. But maybe it feels to some like it ought to be in the same category because it’s been open for decades and has provided a similar type of comfortable familiarity to generations of loyal regulars. Your diner is where the heart is. But beloved local bars would really be a whole different topic, even if they feel like home.

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Not everyone wants to share the place that feels like home to them. Toronto writer David Hayes, who has himself written a few magazine features on local diners over the years, emailed to say, “Loved that piece on diners, Ed, but I absolutely will not share my favorite publicly because ... well, you know why. It’s a small place I can go to on a Saturday or Sunday and if I can’t get a table right away, I’ll wait about three or four minutes. There’s seldom more than one party ahead of me, if there’s anyone.” You start spreading the word, and the crowds come spoil the fun.

So maybe if you don’t see your favourite here — I don’t have room to list every one that people have suggested — that’s a reason to be grateful. But if you want to drop me a note in confidence, I’m always looking for new sources of grease and gravy and good conversation. The city needs as many as it can get.