CLUB KID: Flo's Diner, from the team behind North and Next, focuses on standard diner fare like club sandwiches, Monte Cristos and meatloaf. : Michael T. Regan

At first, the opening of Flo's Diner on 20th and Arch streets last year sounded like the second coming of Silk. The North/Next/105 Social team had already opened Tom Hagan's Tavern next door, and now with their newest venture—a classic, plain and simple diner—they were able to offer one-stop shopping for the young and intestinally youthful masses.

Something is just not clicking, though. Together, Flo and Tom should be a power couple but right now Flo's feels like Tom's lame older sister. Beyond plain, the decor borders on neglectful. Behind the long counter is a tiled backsplash, rows of miniature cereal boxes and a black-and-white portrait of a woman who may or may not be Flo. Overhead, orange beams helpfully distract from the ceiling's water stains, and "vintage" rusted tin signs cover chipped paneling. The rest of the place, cast in beige linoleum and patterned vinyl, is too dull to be kitschy, and too worn for a restaurant that opened less than six months ago. It's also, at most times of the day, empty.

The real action, of course, is happening at the Tavern, where a crowd huddles at two bars, a pool table, and on weekends, the DJ booth. A hallway between establishments makes it easy to take a break from video golf and go next door for some jalapeno poppers. Conversely, you can order from Flo's menu and eat in Tom's.

To really enjoy the food at Flo's, though, you would need to have quaffed many lagers. (You can also continue drinking beer and wine in the diner.) As promised, the menu is classic and cheap—creamed chipped beef, BLTs, turkey and cranberry—and it's in no way gimmicky, which is a relief. But even by the greasiest spoon standards the cooking is sub-par. An all-day farmer's omelet looks fluffy and cheerily yellow on the outside; inside it's filled with chintzy slices of sausage, crunchy potatoes, mushy broccoli stems and gooey American cheese. It comes with a side of more undercooked potatoes.

There are classic boozing appetizers, like over-crusted chicken fingers, lukewarm mozzarella sticks and desiccated potato skins with cheddar and bacon. More redeeming munchies are the Burger-King-thick onion rings and golden fries. On the other hand, ketchup bottle refill—a small but critical diner detail—could use some work. The service meanwhile is friendly and kind, with a sense of humor that is probably conditioned by the drinking clientele.

The safest choices at Flo's are the ones that come between bread, like the Monte Cristo sandwich (ham, turkey and cheese on egg-battered slices) and a fair to middling hamburger. These come with bags of Lays unless you want fries. On one visit the kitchen was only serving one of the nine listed entrees. It was meatloaf, and of the bunch, it was a good one to have, tender and flavorful with a savory tomato crust. On the side, the mashed potatoes looked suspiciously shiny, but they had enough lumps to prove that they were not reconstituted flakes. Creamed spinach was also respectably textured and seasoned but it arrived cold.

For dessert, there's ice cream and shakes and a variety of baked goods made locally by Evans Delicious Pastries. These, like oversized slices of chocolate layer cake and a lightly colored, orange-tinged carrot cake, are served in their plastic carrying wedges, so that when you open them at the table, the topmost smear of the icing is lost to the packaging. Why not put it on a plate? It seems like another in a series of too-casual decisions that make the food at Flo's look like an afterthought. On the other hand, if you'd had a few drinks at Tom's, you might not mind so much.

Flo's Diner

Cash only. Takeout and delivery available. Wheelchair accessible. Smoking permitted.