There’s no ignoring the emotional tug — the place it holds in my head and heart.

It was at the Hi-Hat that I learned about chocolate chip pancakes.

I was probably 6. For the next 10 years, there was nothing else worth ordering.

The Hi-Hat Pancake House is a small diner with maybe eight booths and the same number of tables in a low-slung brown building on the main drag in Farmingdale. It’s not particularly modern or fancy, which is part of the charm. Out front, there’s an old-fashioned concrete island for carhop service. Worn, green AstroTurf lines the walkway. The opaque plastic tumblers brought out by waitresses now are almost certainly the same as from 20 years ago.

It’s the sort of place you go eat with your grandparents. (Zero risk of loud or offensive music, lunch is called “dinner” on the menu, breakfast is served until closing at 2 p.m.) The food’s simple, and I mean that in the most glowing terms possible.

A quarter-pounder basket with slaw and fries will set you back $4.09 at lunch. Breaded haddock, $6.99. Spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread, $6.39.

Now living a few towns away, I hadn’t been to the Hi-Hat in at least a decade. My palette having matured a bit, I couldn’t possibly return last week and order chocolate chip pancakes.

No, no. Not when the Strawberry French toast beckoned.

I met a friend for breakfast on Labor Day and after a 10-minute wait — the place was packed — we followed directions and seated ourselves in an avocado-colored booth. The morning specials tempted, like two eggs, hash browns and toast for $5.19, but instead we decided to split the French toast ($5.09), a ham and cheese omelet with raisin bread ($5.34) and a side of homefries ($1.45.)

The home fries were great, namely because I’m a purist — no onions and green peppers to funk it up, please. The omelet was full of cubed ham, and the French toast was covered with whole, soft berries in berry juice, not strawberries in heavy sauce. Two little jugs of syrup, plain and blueberry, waited on the table.

Turned out, our waitress was working her very first day (friendly, adorable), we recognized a few people from high school whose names we could almost remember (the risk/reward of eating at a hometownish diner: “I think his name is … “) and were impressed that the carhop service is still a go.

For the car-bound diners, several signs prompted “Lights on for carhop.” Sadly, meals are not served on skates, about the only harsh criticism I can lob.

An hour later, we were full and the parking lot was still crowded.

Unexpected bonus: The paved riverside walkway known as the Rail Trail starts in the Hannaford parking lot in Gardiner, just under a mile down the road, and runs directly by Hi-Hat. So, park, walk and eat if you, too, are at all nervous about downing those chocolate chip pancakes and running into someone from high school.

“I think her name is … ”

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Strawberry French Toast from the Hi-Hat.

What: Hi-Hat Pancake House

Where: 380 Maine Ave. (Routes 27 & 201), Farmingdale

Why: Nostalgia (seasonal carhop, lunch is called dinner), friendly staff, good eats.

When: Daily 6 a.m.-2 p.m. Cash only.

Contact: 582-9842

The ham and cheese omelet from the Hi-Hat in Farmingdale.

Home fries from the Hi-Hat.

The Hi-Hat in Farmingdale.