Offbeat Eats

There’s something about old-style roadside restaurants that just draws me in. Hart’s Turkey Farm in Meredith, NH, is just one of those places. Shortly after moving to NH in 2001, I drove by Hart’s on the way to Weirs Beach, and made a mental note to come back and check it out sometime. Well, it was several years before I found myself in the general area needing dinner, but this last weekend after several hours of rock climbing in Rumney, Carol and I decided to finally visit Hart’s Turkey Farm and check it off the list. We’re glad we did.

One of the great things about hot dogs is that they really do have a fair bit of regional variation. I’ve had “rippers” from Rutt’s Hut in New Jersey. I’ve had Coney Islands in Detroit (not to be confused with a Nathan’s hot dog from the actual Coney Island). I’ve had Rochester whites. Rochester red hots. Carolina slaw dogs. The list goes on. One of my favorite varieties, however, is the Chicago-style Hot Dog. Not content to just have an hot dog on a bun, Chicagoans demand that pretty much every aspect of the hot dog is pimped. The hot dog itself must be all-beef (preferably Vienna brand). The bun should have poppy seeds on it. The preferred condiments are chopped onions, sliced tomatoes, livid-green relish, celery salt, a pickle, and just enough “sport peppers” lined up to match the length of the hot dog. It’s known as “draggin’ it through the garden,” and, quite frankly, I like the result, even if it does bury the hot dog a little bit.

As I discovered on my recent trip to Chicago, it can be hard finding a good breakfast in The Loop. And, with all the traveling I’ve been doing, I’m kind of burnt out on Starbucks. So, walking around the area, I found an Argo Tea location. I rather like the concept, since good tea really is better than good coffee, IMHO, and I rather like the fact that a company is really trying to get out there with more tea-shop offerings…

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. I’ve always found those words to be true when it comes to BBQ joints. The best joints always seem to look a little suspect, both in the restaurant itself and the general neighborhood it’s in. Smoki O’s is definitely no exception. It’s in a neighborhood that’s mostly abandoned buildings and warehouses in the northeast part of St Louis. However, once you go through the door, it all changes. The inside is nice, clean, and neat. The staff is very friendly, and the place just oozes smoke. After perusing all the options, I settled for what both the staff and other web reviews recommended: an open-faced sandwich combo of both rib tips and snoots…

My work travels recently had me spending the better part of a week in downtown St Louis. For those of you that aren’t already shaking your heads, there doesn’t really seem to be much in downtown, especially food-wise. Sure, some of the neighborhoods like Soulard actually have some nice restaurants, but downtown itself is mostly Hooters, TGI Fridays, and Max and Erma’s. Not exactly food paradise. But an appeal to the fine folks over at Chowhound.com led me to two places worth checking out that were near my hotel. One of them was Rooster, a small cafe that features a wide variety of sandwiches, breakfasts, and crepes. It’s a rather nice little cafe, which is rather surprising, since a large fraction of the street-level real estate in that part of town is vacant. I’m glad this place is an exception…

My burger tastings continue, this time with a visit to the famous Billy Goat Tavern on the lower level of Michigan Avenue. Most everyone that’s even vaguely close to me in age knows the Billy Goat Tavern, if only by reputation, since it’s the inspiration for the “cheezeborger cheezeborger” SNL skit. It’s also a chronic inhabitant of online “top 10 burger” lists, so it’s definitely one of those places I had to review for completeness (this wasn’t my first visit, I’ve been there several times before, albeit without camera. The Billy Goat is definitely one of those places where ambiance is an important part of the experience…

As I’ve mentioned here before, I have an odd fascination with hot dogs. The name “hot dog” really spans a huge amount of territory, ranging from cheap generic hot dogs (which really don’t do anything for me), to all sorts of regional specialties like the Chicago Dog and the Coney Island dog. Coney Island dogs, in particular, have always fascinated me since (a) they seem to mostly be clustered in areas that aren’t New York’s Coney Island (although there are many “Coney Islands”, coney is just a name for “rabbit”), and (b) there is something oddly compelling about both the hot dog itself and the places that serve it. George’s Coney Island in Worcestor, MA is definitely one of these places…

(Closed) My experience at the Wickford Diner was a complete fiasco (in the second sense above), but the resulting comedy of errors was so entertaining that I just had to tell other people about it. This isn’t really a complaint, since in the end the humor of the situation greatly outweighed any of the inconvenience. This Memorial Day, I found myself in Wickford, RI, immediately before the morning’s Memorial Day Parade. Carol and I were hungry for a little breakfast (our earlier efforts at Allie’s Donuts failed, due to Allie’s being closed for the holiday), but the Wickford Diner was open. I’ve been to the Wickford Diner several times before in the last umpteen years (previously in 2001, 1996, and probably sometime before that), with pleasant memories of the basic staples of RI cuisine: corncakes and chowder…. It quickly became obvious that something wasn’t quite right that morning…

Today’s breakfast was at Cajun Kitchen in Santa Barbara. Cajun isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Santa Barbara, but this place has enough diversity that I’m not particularly surprised that this place made the top of several people’s recommendation for a good breakfast joint (including my brother the Secret Service agent and several folks over at Chowhound.com). I rather enjoyed Cajun Kitchen. It’s set up as your basic breakfast joint/coffee shop, with a counter for people like me that are eating by themselves.

Driving from LA to Palmdale, my coworker Tony wanted to stop and grab a bite in Santa Clarita. He originally wanted Subway, but I talked him into the In-N-Out burger instead, which he had never had before. Myself, I’ve been to In-N-Out burger more times than I can count, but, oddly, I haven’t written it up here yet…