For James May, the Tesla Diner was not a charming stop for food and charging. It was, in his telling, a hot car, an underwhelming hot dog, and a bill large enough to make the ketchup feel like an optional extra.

The former Top Gear and The Grand Tour presenter visited the Los Angeles site for his James May’s Planet Gin YouTube channel, where he came away notably unimpressed by Tesla’s attempt to mix electric vehicle charging with retro diner culture.

What happened during James May’s visit?

Tesla opened its first Tesla Diner in Los Angeles, California, in July 2025, pitching it as a place where Tesla owners could charge their cars, park up, and order Tesla-themed food while they waited. The company has since expanded the concept to other locations, but the original California site still draws curious visitors who want to see the brand’s take on the American roadside diner.

May was one of them. His verdict arrived quickly and without much cushioning.

After ordering a hot dog, he rated it a “three or four” out of 10 and questioned why the whole experience was so expensive.

“This is a bit dismal. Sitting in a baking hot car, eating a slightly s*it hot dog, and it’s cost about £50,” May said.

That is not the kind of customer testimonial usually printed on a launch poster.

Why did May criticize the Tesla Diner?

May’s complaints were not only about the food, though the food did not escape unharmed. He described it as mediocre and overpriced, and he was not sold on the venue’s drive-in movie setup either.

He called the outdoor screen a “gimmick” and suggested it would lose its purpose once Tesla added more in-car entertainment options, such as Netflix functionality. The point, in May’s view, was simple enough: if people can watch something inside the vehicle, the spectacle outside starts to look less essential.

He also took issue with the ordering process and the general feel of the building.

“The food was mediocre, it was overpriced, the dine-in movie element was pointless, and the interior was quite cleverly designed, but it was sterile, and you had to order your cookie on an app even though I could see it on the counter in front of me.”

It was a very modern complaint: the cookie was physically present, yet still somehow required software.

What bothered him beyond the food?

May also felt the site missed the spirit of the traditional American diner, which is usually built around ease, familiarity, and a certain human messiness. His read was that Tesla’s version had the design language, but not much of the warmth.

He said there was “tonnes of security” at the site and questioned what threat the company thought it was guarding against.

“I hate being disappointed in things like that,” he said. “There was tonnes of security, what did they think we were going to do? Steal some electricity? Support your local diner!”

The visit did not even keep him occupied for the full charging session. May said he became bored and ended the charge earlier than planned, which is not exactly ideal for a business built around making waiting feel pleasant.

Why does the reaction matter?

May has built much of his public persona around cars, machines, and quiet skepticism toward overdesigned solutions. That makes his reaction useful beyond one poor lunch: he is exactly the kind of person who might have appreciated a clever charging stop if it worked as both a practical service and a memorable experience.

Instead, his takeaway was that the Tesla Diner felt expensive, impersonal, and less satisfying than the familiar independent diners it loosely references.

The concept will still have its audience. Tesla has no shortage of fans, and novelty is a powerful seasoning. But May’s visit underlined a fairly basic challenge for branded hospitality: if the food is forgettable and the atmosphere feels sterile, the logo can only do so much.

For anyone looking for a different kind of oversized roadside food stop, Las Vegas is also preparing for the arrival of what has been billed as the world’s biggest In-N-Out Burger, set to open “soon” on top of a massive shopping mall. At least there, nobody will need an app to prove the burger exists.