This story was inspired by a news story shared in a Starsky & Hutch group I belong to. The food cart/diner 'Starchy & Husk' does exist and is located in Portland, Oregon. I thought the diner was so cute, I had to pay homage. Title courtesy of starskitty.

BTW, if you'd like to see the food cart and/or article just google Starchy & Hutch. And if you're on Facebook, Starchy & Husk has a fan page. :-)

Disclaimer: Nothing related to Starsky & Hutch or Starchy & Husk belongs to me. Just having a little fun.

Starsky's Dream Diner

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Dave Starsky sank into the driver's seat of his red Gran Torino with a happy sigh. After a frustrating morning of searching out elusive confidential informants it felt good to sit and relax for a minute. The passenger door opened and Hutch slid into his customary spot.

After a few seconds of silence, Starsky keyed the ignition. "I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat."

"You're always hungry," muttered Hutch, glancing up from his notes.

"Aw, c'mon partner, breakfast was hours ago and you have to be hungry after that wheatgrass, carrot, alfalfa, and spinach smoothie you call food."

"It was strawberries, banana, yogurt, and a little protein powder and it was fine. Very filling." Hutch patted his stomach.

"Yeah, well, I'M still starving. Besides I heard about this new place—a little diner down on North Station. They specialize in macaroni and cheese," Starsky's face took on a blissful expression. "Can't remember the name but I heard it was good. Better than good."

Hutch huffed an aggrieved sigh. "Oh, joy. Another artery-clogging greasy spoon."

"Hey," Starsky waved a finger at his partner, "you picked yesterday and it was that weird vegetarian place on Bayview."

"Fine. I'll let dispatch know."

The dark-haired detective pulled into traffic with a happy grin, visions of gooey, melting, delicious cheese filling his head. His stomach growled in encouragement. He drove four blocks over and hung a left on to North Station, eyeing the right side of the street with keen interest. "Charlie said it's hard to miss."

"Why? Does it have a health inspector quarantine sign?" Hutch joked.

"There it is!" Starsky pulled into the small parking lot. "Will you look at that? It's a converted trailer!"

"Clever."

The detectives simultaneously exited the car. "Painted bright red too. No wonder Charlie said you couldn't miss it. You know, with that little patch of white right there, it kinda looks a little like my baby." David patted the hood of the Gran Torino.

Hutch snorted and shook his head.

As they wended their way through a scattered array of tables and approached the food cart, Starsky elbowed Hutch in the side. "Get a load of the name Starchy and Husk. Sounds like us, doesn't it?"

Hutch laughed. "Yeah, it kinda does."

Starsky perused the menu. "Oh, I get it—Starchy because of they serve macaroni and cheese and husk because they have roasted corn on the cob or cornbread. Funny."

The pair ordered and paid, leaving Starsky shifting from foot to foot as they waited for their food. He took a deep, appreciative breath. "You smell that? That-THAT is the smell of great down home cooking!"

"You haven't even tasted it yet."

"Ahhh, but the nose knows, partner!"

The food arrived and the detectives grabbed their Styrofoam containers and drinks then proceeded to one of the empty tables.

Starsky dug into his food with gusto. "Hey, do you think they'd name something after us if we asked? You know, like 'The Starsky'?

Taking a bite of his own food, Hutch looked at Starsky oddly. "Why would you want that?"

"I dunno. Just think of it, my name—Starsky—memorialized for posterity."

"Or until the owner sells out and goes off to the next big thing," the blond-haired detective replied, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.

"C'mon, think of it. 'The Hutch' has a nice ring to it, huh?"

"Yeah, it sounds like a piece of antique furniture. Thanks, but I'll pass."

Starsky rolled his eyes. "Really, you gotta open up, man. Live a little!"

"Living a little is just what I'll be doing if I keep eating stuff like this."

They finished their meal in silence except for repeated groans of appreciation from Starsky. When they were finished, Hutch gathered the trash and tossed it in a nearby can.

They walked back to the Gran Torino, Starsky vociferously extolling the virtues of his newfound dream diner and proclaiming it a solid future date destination.

Hutch just shook his head ruefully at the rambling. He'd actually, secretly, enjoyed the food as well though he'd never, ever admit it to his partner. Starsk just never had to know that. After all, Hutch had a reputation to maintain.

FIN