Postcards from the Road #2: The Eats
Chili, burgers, salads, cookies and Best Western breakfasts--but where's the pie?
When we embarked on our road trip two weeks ago, I had visions of consuming the great American road food diet, with roadside diners, pie shacks and BBQ joints supplying generous wedges of apple and cherry pie à la mode, open-air barbecues plying us with thick steaks and ribs, cowboy cafes setting us up for the day with blueberry pancakes piled high on a plate with generous sides of sausages and eggs.
But so far almost none of these imagined eating experiences has materialized. And it’s not that these kinds of foods have been unavailable or the places we’ve landed lack dining options that would fulfill my fantasized meals and snacks.
No, it’s all there. I’ve seen the neon signs, the ready tables, the inviting place settings, the smiling servers, from our first stop in Prescott, Arizona to Moab, Utah to Glenwood Springs, Colorado, and now as we come to the end of an enjoyable stay in Boulder, CO.
But the truth is, when you’re traveling in summer and the mercury keeps climbing into the triple digits and your traveling partner has decided that come hell or high water, temptation or temperamental wife, he’s going to stick to the weight reduction goal he set in early summer, well by gum, RuthTalksFood will have to feed her fantasies solo or go along to get along.
So what’s a girl to do? Well, folks, here’s the truth about eating on the road: it’s a crapshoot. You gets what you gets—or what your eye stumbles upon when stomach rumbles interrupt hiking, sightseeing or shopping forays. Despite my initial thought that we might camp, tents, sleeping bags, and the trusty—and rusty—Coleman stove got left behind, though the nifty little Igloo cooler I bought has come in mighty handy for icing healthy snacks and drinks.
We’ve mostly been staying at Best Western Hotels that offer fairly complete breakfasts. These turn out to be a godsend for the pocketbook, though hardly the type of inventive early-bird smorgasbord that will light this blog on fire. But really, access to plain decent food isn’t a small thing. As my husband Jeff likes to remind me, sometimes it’s just fuel in the tank. And that fuel has been mighty plentiful at the Best Westerns we’ve frequented. (A note about BW—when you’re in the company’s Rewards program, you get a small but welcome price break and sometimes, if you’re lucky, a room upgrade. The current promotion is $50 off your next visit if you stay two nights.)
For the most part, the BW breakfasts have been pretty good—and definitely substantial: hot oatmeal with lots of my favorite additions—raisins, toasted almonds, brown sugar. Also: scrambled eggs (sometimes a bit watery, but what do you expect with mass-produced eggs?!), sausage, hash browns and waffles you cook yourself, yogurt, several varieties of toast, dry cereal, occasionally bagels, muffins and fresh fruit—even fruit salad, if you’re lucky. The coffee is usually quite palatable, though at one stop, I couldn’t figure out how to shut off the flow once the cup was full.
There are more than generous amounts of everything—though the crowd of hungry guests attacking the vittles like vultures on carrion (especially during the last minutes before the breakfast bar is about to close!) can be enough to put you off. Here’s Jeff’s time lapse of the scene:
Guests are generally polite, and it’s diverting to people-watch as you dig into your cornflakes. Quite a diverse crowd. At the Best Western Antlers in Glenwood Springs, I heard Hebrew at one table, Chinese at the next, accents from the southern U.S. at another. Occasionally there were mishaps (what vacation is complete without them?). As I waded through what I assumed was a hot cereal spill one morning I watched a toddler losing his breakfast (to put it mildly) all over his parents and the shiny floor of the breakfast room. That was it for me. I grabbed my coffee and fled.
The good, the so-so and the wish we’d tried it
Many meals have fallen into the “just fuel” category, with lots of salads and burgers of various kinds. Some have been more memorable than others.
On my list of favorites:
A vegan chili cheeseburger with a side of fried onion rings at Proper Brewing Co. in Moab, Utah. I’m not vegan, but this was one of the best burgers I’ve had—period! As someone who would like to deconstruct such a tasty meal to see if I could possibly repeat it at home, I asked the server how it was done. “We just have a great chef,” she said. “Of course we can’t share the recipe.” Hmmm. I see a challenge in my future.
Jeff’s fave:
Famously picky, he will almost always choose what’s familiar. When we went to Ming’s Cafe in Glenwood Springs, known for its sushi and Southeast Asian cuisine, he ordered cashew chicken with brown rice and claimed it was the best he’d ever had because the nuts were roasted and the chicken was plentiful and delicious.
Most screwed-up order:
A black bean burger with sautéed spinach, tomato and avocado. How can you mess that up? Let me tell you how.
“So you want the vegetarian burger?” the waiter at The Spoke on Center in Moab asked.
Jeff did. And they delivered it adorned with bacon. He complained. They said they would remake the vegetarian burger. The waiter said, “With bacon, right?” Jeff, assuming the waiter was being sarcastic, played along. “Yes, and while you’re at it, why don’t you throw in some ham too!”
The waiter took him seriously and delivered it that way, only to have to remake it. Again!
I don’t remember what I ordered for dinner, but I did come back another day for a huckleberry ice cream cone at The Spoke’s outdoor ice cream window. It’s tied for favorite treat with the oatmeal raisin cookie from Red Rock Bakery pictured at the top of this post.
Best cocktail:
I went for the blueberry sour at Jersey Lilly Saloon in Prescott, Arizona. It’s made with blueberry vodka (who knew there was such a thing?), sour mix, lime and fresh blueberries. The popcorn’s free, as are the photos on the walls and tributes to the “Mrs. Langtry,” the famous British stage actress Lillie Langtry, after whom the saloon is named.
Most forgettable meal:
The vistas from The View Hotel, Monument Valley are so spectacular that the food obviously takes a back seat. I had a tasteless salmon steak and mixed vegetables that were most likely cooked from frozen, but I was so transfixed by panorama outside the window that the food was somewhat (though not completely!) beside the point.
Food regrets?
Not sampling enough pie and pastry—the former in particular as it’s so associated with road tripping across America in my mind and seems like the quintessential food you’d stop anywhere to consume. However, I hope I’ll be able to remedy this gaping omission during our next two weeks of travel. Jeff can stick to his diet; I want pie!
Another regret: Not dining—and spending a couple of days—at the stately 130-year-old Hotel Colorado, which claims to be where the teddy bear was invented when President Theodore (“Teddy”) Roosevelt stayed there in the early 1900’s. Depending on which tale you believe, the prexy either bagged a bear that his daughter Alice named “Teddy” or returned empty-handed and downcast from a hunt and was comforted by a consolation bear sewn by the hotel maids. You can read more about the two possible origin stories of the popular teddy bear toy here.
Best non-foodie moments:
Relaxing in one of the many hot mineral pools at Iron Mountain Hot Springs in Glenwood Springs, which, as its name implies, is well known for its natural hot springs. The facility that’s most kid-friendly is the Glenwood Hot Springs Resort.
There’s nothing like a soak after the blazing sun goes down—or, for the kiddies, at any time!
The next “postcards” will come from the Badlands of South Dakota. There we’ll be staying on a ranch where it’s been promised that all my road food dreams will come true. Dude ranch cookery, anyone? I can’t imagine anyone sticking to a diet there!
Also: More to come from our stay in Boulder, Colorado. Some glorious scenery and some delicious food in unexpected places.
Postscript
Glenwood Springs has some of the best cowboy duds we’ve seen so far at a western shop. The store, Bullocks Western Wear (it fought a copyright battle with Bullock’s department stores in L.A. at one time), proudly trumpets its credentials as sitting on the spot where gunslinger-gambler-dentist Doc Holliday, died on November 8, 1887 at the Hotel Glenwood, which once occupied the location. The store also has museum in the basement filled with memorabilia of Doc, his friends, foes and times.
Inside the store is a wide array of cowboy shirts and vests, Stetson hats (Jeff got his reshaped there after it was crushed during our trip), jewelry, knives, rugs and Doc Holliday tributes on T-shirts, mugs, hats and bandanas. Many sport the phrase: “I’m your Huckleberry,” whose meaning is much discussed and was part of a key scene about the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral in the 1993 movie, Tombstone. Also at the store: the gravestone of the Doc, whose body is said to be buried somewhere in nearby Linwood Cemetery.
What are you eating and loving this summer—especially if you’re on a road trip, but even if you’re not? I’d love to know.
Thanks for reading, liking and sharing this week’s edition of RuthTalksFood. Please subscribe to receive future posts and do please share with your friends if you find it enjoyable.
We’re heading on down the road now. See you soon!
Ruth
Wow. The Monument Valley restaurant view was epic. Such a bummer about the frozen veggies! I recently took a think week where I cooked and created a lot, including fesenjoon, Persian pomegranate stew! While not quite the summer food, felt more appropriate for fall or winter, it was delicious.
I find it unusual that my screen saver popped up today of the Badlands. 😊