White Turkey Drive In

Today I had lunch at the The White Turkey Drive In, in Conneaut, Ohio. This place was founded in 1952, and hasn't changed one bit since. It was by far the most charming and atmospheric of the joints I visited on this trip, and had shady picnic tables out back surrounded by a beautiful perennial garden.

I had the the turkey sandwich called the "Large Marge." (No, it's not named for the lesbian ghost trucker in Pee Wee's Big Adventure, but for the restaurant's original proprietress.)

I can only describe the sandwich as a "pulled turkey" sandwich. It is startlingly like North Carolina BBQ, but made with white meat turkey instead of pork. It was topped with bacon and American cheese. It was delicious, and very vintage-y in character as you'd expect from the looks of this place. It was accompanied by a delicious real milkshake, freshly made and with globs of vanilla ice cream still slightly unblended. The onion rings were good, but of the crumb breading type, which is not my favorite. (My mother's onion rings were arguably the gold standard, closely followed by those at Liam's on Nauset Beach in Orleans Mass on Cape Cod.)

This place was so sweetly retro-Americana that I was nearly moved to tears while waiting for my sandwich. (I'm funny that way.)

I suddenly understood the much vaunted charm of the Midwest. I confess this has previously largely escaped me.



Plus the state flag of Ohio is a pennant, the only one in the US, which is way cool.

Arthur Bryant's BBQ, yet again...

It's a good eight hours after I had lunch at Arthur Bryant's, and I am STILL full.

I consider myself extremely fortunate among coastal dwellers, because this is the third (or fourth?) time I have been privileged to eat at Arthur Bryant's in Kansas City, MO. (Calvin Trillin calls this the best restaurant on the planet.)

The first time I went I was under-impressed. Gasp! Probably because I had the pulled pork, which is not really the thing here as Mr Bryant hailed from Texas originally. Not being a big brisket lover, and unable to eat ribs due to orthodontia; I opted for the burnt ends sandwich this time - and it was utterly spectacular. Smoky and sweet, with a crunchy richness and a lingering mildly hot finish.

Great people watching here - perhaps the most integrated place I've ever been in the Midwest. Everyone is slightly hushed, as befits a temple; united in awed reverence for the piles of smoky perfection slathered in the incredible sauce, which Jane Stern calls "nearly a soul food curry." It's not a bad description.

In line I stood in front of a six lucky culinary school students, on a field trip with their supervising chef. All of them asking her: "Chef, Chef" should I have the brisket, or the ribs?" etc. In a motherly style she coordinated their orders so between them they had combo plates which managed to include every single thing on the menu. I picked up on the culinary school vibe and said to the chef "Great field trip." and she positively beamed.

The only thing I regret is that it's a twenty hour drive from home...

Mom's Cafe, Salina Utah

Mom's Cafe - 10 E Main St, Salina Utah.

This is a spectacularly worthy detour off of I-70 in Utah, it's also the last good food (or any food except live rattlesnake) for the next 120 miles heading eastbound.

Salina looks like a Hollywood movie set of a cowboy town. Mom's sits square on the most prominent corner in town. Mom's has been dishing up breakfast and lunch to the ranchers in these parts for over seventy years.

This was my second visit to Mom's (My first was two years ago with my Dad.) This time I went whole hog - chicken fried steak slathered in cream gravy, a "scone" (which in Utah means a piece of fry bread.) , mashed taters, corn and sour cream blueberry pie for desert. The only thing that wasn't perfect was the taters which seemed to come out of a box, but I can forgive that, as the chicken fried steak was a revelation.

Urp! It's nearly ten hours later and I'm still full.

This pace is really, really good, and qualifies as what folks in my generation sometimes call a "Flo" restaurant. (A TV reference to the character Flo in the 70's tv show"Alice")

In a bit of nearly surreal synchronicity, just as I drove out of town I got a call from my roommate back in LA, who had just been diagnosed with gout. Gout?

Maybe it's good thing that I live seven hundred miles from Mom's.
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PS: This is my first ever mobile phone post.... Cool, huh?