Pretty snazzy. Chrome outside gleaming in the sun like the grin on a Buick Roadmaster. The royal blue tiles continue inside, checkered with white ones. The sparkle also continues, this time with a pressed-tin ceiling, as bright as an acre of toasters. The Blue Onion, dropped smack dab in the middle of a Woonsocket parking lot like a beneficent 1950s spacecraft, is a wonder to behold.

Opening a diner is ridiculously impractical. They cost too much to outfit, compared to other downscale restaurants. They can’t charge as much for the same dishes as regular restaurants with cloth napkins and a little candle light. No, a new diner is a labor of love.

The carefully selected details inside may be more high-concept than personal — nobody’s autographed baseballs or Barbie doll collection here — but the atmosphere is amiably nostalgic: Life magazine covers; an ad for Indian motorcycles; Ted Williams touting Moxie soda. The blue vinyl banquettes are comfy, if you want a booth rather than the counter stools. Judging from our waitress, Annette, service comes with a sincere smile. They serve good beer and cheap wine, so who could ask for more?

The food? Oh, yes. For starters, there’s a soup of the day ($1.65/$2.85) — tomato bisque when we were there — in addition to New England clam chowder and chili. I had a cup of chili ($1.85), though it is also offered in a bread bowl ($3.95). The beans were kidneys rather than pintos, but it was meaty, with bits of tomato, and the balance of spices made it just-one-more-spoonful tantalizing.

My signature Blue Onion Burger ($5.25, four ounces; $6.95, eight ounces.) came atop grilled onions, under a creamy blue cheese sauce, and cooked as requested — still throbbing. Quality beef, wonderfully smoky from the grill, and good French fries, too. I ordered a " combo, " a side of garlic fries and onion rings ($2.95). The rings were grease-free, but two out of three at our table detected no garlic taste to the fries. I guess in Woonsocket that passes for French cuisine subtlety, but when I’m after garlic, I’ll forego friends in close proximity, never mind subtlety.

Burgers are traditional diner fare, and fried seafood baskets are their classy cousins. I like the Blue Onion menu, but it seems to have been designed by Gallup poll. When you see a portobello " burger " ($4.50), you’re reminded how popular this item has become. Same with their fried clam strips, which are as ridiculously cheap ($6.95) as whole-belly clams are expensive.

My friends Peter and Cynthia, world travelers with whom I usually venture out to exotic ethnic places, joined me. I’m used to seeing them enthusiastically slurping down something daring, like poached clam livers. But here the ethnicity is ’50s American, and Peter was just as willing to order something appropriately bland. Actually, this is being too hard on the Blue Onion fried scallops ($9.95). They may have been uninspired for little bay scallops, a half-pound of them, but that’s what happens when you coat and fry something delicate. Again, they were remarkably ungreasy, and the fries were those nice flourer-dusted ones seen earlier on my plate. Peter pronounced the not-too-juicy coleslaw " one of the better I’ve had in a restaurant. "

Cynthia did a wonderful yin-yang thing with her choice. On the one hand, she ordered Caesar salad, but on the other hand, it was steak Caesar salad ($8.25). The active ingredient was cooked medium, as promised, though she would have liked a bit more dressing. If asked, Annette undoubtedly would have complied as perkily as a cheerleader asked for an extra round of " Boomalacka-Boom. "

To round out our menu sampling, I ordered one of the two pasta offerings, to go. (The other is grilled chicken Alfredo.) For 10 bucks less than you’d expect to pay, the five medium shellfish in the shrimp scampi ($8.75) could have been less than fresh, or the pasta could have been pasty. The dish was OK on both those counts. The diner dimension meant there was lots of chopped garlic in the butter sauce, unabashedly out of a jar rather than hand-pressed. Pieces of fresh tomato were a bonus.

Among the desserts — made by Pamela’s Bakery in Pawtucket — two favorites caught our eyes. I love Boston Cream pie, and this one had an extra chocolate filling layer as well as custard. Quite acceptable. Peter’s carrot cake was even better: moist, with the cream cheese frosting not overly sweet. Cynthia restrained herself to a scoop of Edy’s ice cream, though she indulged in a flavor with bits of candy in it. Except for the ice cream and puddings, the desserts are priced within a dime of $2.75. Traditionalist? You might want to stick with a milkshake or root beer float, unless you’re not afraid of turning into a character out of American Graffiti, which the charming Blue Onion just may do.