Wisconsin Bound!

I have just returned from my second trip to Road America for the Kohler International Challenge and it was worth the 1700 mile trip including that still endlessly dull drive back and forth through some of the flattest areas of Illinois.

This year we would need to haul not only our luggage for the week, which isn't all that much, but also folding chairs and my parents luggage, and really needed comfortable on-the-road seating for four. So we started the trip with another short journey not far from home. Having found that the selection for renting land yachts is sorely lacking in our area, my husband and I made the choice to pick up a SUV in Memphis to take on our trip. In an effort to support local business and break up the monotony of another trip to Memphis, we opted to fly a local commuter flight one-way and drive the SUV back home. It turns out that was a great decision, as the flight on SeaPort Air's nine seat Pilatus PC-12 was comfortable and quick. The staff and crew were not just friendly, but truly helpful and made the experience something I wouldn't hesitate to repeat. If only all airlines could be run with such a relaxed demeanor I'd be willing to burn through my stockpile of frequent flyer miles a whole lot faster.

A couple of days later, we stopped at Collinsville, Illinois to meet up with friends and caravan northward. That evening we went to dinner at Sage just across the Mississippi River in St. Louis. Clearly a trendy hot-spot in the area, the food is a melting pot of contemporary American cuisine. The stuffed chicken breast was excellent, although the fifteen spice ribs could have used a bit more spice, maybe that missing sixteenth one would have been the magic touch. Being a hot-spot, the noise level was a bit much and left us all straining to hear each other. A little sound control could go a long way in improving the overall experience here; however I got the impression there was a bit of something to being seen here, not just dining and enjoying the meal and present company.

We spent the night at a ho-hum Doubletree Hotel in Collinsville. I had decided to try it since our usual Hampton Inn in the area was sold out and it was the other top ranked hotel in the area according to Trip Advisor. It definitely is a business travelers and convention / meeting place hotel. For a quick overnight stay it was ok but nothing exceptional.

The following day we set out for Wisconsin and stopped for lunch at Hearthrock Cafe. It was one of those odd internet finds that I kept coming back to, thinking it looked just too interesting to pass up. Inside an older downtown three-story building that now houses a proprietor of home furnishings, kitchens, flooring, landscaping and other such items. The menu was perfect for a light lunch and the store provided us with a good excuse to get out and stretch a bit.

Later that day we arrived at our destination, check into our hotel and headed to dinner at the Millhome Supper Club in Kiel, or rather somewhere in the middle of nowhere near Kiel. Sadly the food was disappointing. Our friends had a good recommendation for the place but it turned out to be mostly food-service entrees of the heat and eat variety. Adding to that was its preparation by a chef who clearly had been fired somewhere else for under-cooking food, thus everything was overcooked by 15 to 25 degrees as was evidenced by the rubbery shrimp and scallops and medium steaks that were brown all the way through. However the place was nearly empty so it wasn't crowded or noisy which made for a nice contrast to the previous night's deafening volume level.

This was a fun trip and more than my fingers can handle in one round. More coming soon...

Goodbye 309

For the fifth year in a row, my husband and I made our way east to Blowing Rock, North Carolina for a car event. The beautiful area and opportunity to visit with friends makes the drive across the entire state of Tennessee worth the journey every year, despite the usually somewhat ho-hum journey getting there.

During this trip, I learned some very valuable lessons. First, I learned that I do not like Indian food. While I admit I've been wanting to try Indian cuisine sometime, one of the first nights of my trip was not the "sometime" I intended. This leads to lesson number two; when traveling with a group, be careful who chooses dinner. Otherwise it can lead to unplanned adventures in cuisine that may or may not be to your liking. On the upside, I no longer wonder if I like Indian food; I know that I really don't. One less experiment needed later anyway!

Blowing Rock is nestled along the Blue Ridge Parkway and twisty mountain roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Elevations in the area vary from about 3000 feet to the summit of Grandfather Mountain towering at just shy of 6000 feet. The past winter has not been kind to the parkway and surrounding mountains; there were still signs of debris along the roadway, although the worst had been cleared away by the time we arrived in early June.

This year we visited three destinations new to us, all in the Banner Elk, NC area. The first day we arrived, we met up with more from our event at Jackalope's View Restaurant. The salmon was very good, as were the rest of the entrees, but what really made this place special was the view. Photos can't begin to capture the panoramic mountain scene visible from every angle of the deck and windows across the whole back of the restaurant. It's slightly quirky interior began with the real vault door every patron walks through going into the restaurant. Wine corks adorned the walls in somewhat organized patterns, with space to expand the collection over time. It was relaxing and a wonderful way to begin our time in the Blue Ridge Mountains. (It was also a very welcome return to good food after the previous night's "culinary adventure" aka Indian food.)

The following evening, our group had reserved the great camp at The Lodges Eagle's Nest, and I use the term "camp" very loosely. Sitting on a mountainside a few miles from Banner Elk, the Eagle's Nest is actually a gated golf club community minus the typical high-society stuffiness. Oh and minus the golf too. And the indoor fancy clubhouse. In its place is a large open pavilion on a hillside, complete with hand-carved over-sized picnic tables, an enormous eight foot wide fireplace, full size catering kitchen, and even a nearby band shell, plus even more amenities than I can recall. The owners and staff were gracious and attended well to our group. Sledgehammer Charlie's provided the catered bar-b-que dinner and the meal was excellent, as was the setting overall. With the blended upscale yet very rustic setting, the idea of a group rain dance effort to stop the steady drizzle that settled in during the course of the evening might have proved worthwhile, but instead we just wound our way back down the mountainside into Blowing Rock and caught a little extra rest.

Our other new destination was a different car owners group gathering in the tiny town of Banner Elk. Sitting at just over 5000 feet and maintaining its own private grass airstrip, the area caters well to the wealthy but at the same time provides hotels and resorts at more moderate prices too. It also boasts the east's highest sled run. This of course is lesson number three of the trip; some of the more interesting oddities to be found are those things we stumble on purely by accident when traveling. I have to admit this wasn't a revelation to me on this trip, but is something I noted long ago. It just served as a good reminder that going with the flow can lead to good things (and not always to Indian food. It really was that bad.)

I've since found out that our event will be changing locations next year. The hotel at Blowing Rock has become too small to fit our growing group of car nuts and after 10 years in the same spot, the organizers have decided it is time to change things up a bit. Next year, we will convene at Little Switzerland, about an hour south of Blowing Rock, so we can begin a whole new set of adventures and find more roads to explore. So after five years in room 309 at the Meadowbrook Inn, late Sunday morning I closed the door and said goodbye to a room that had become like a second home in the mountains and looked forward to the new experiences to come in 2011. I'm sure I'll learn more lessons then too.

A View of St. Louis

If the only thing I can say was less than excellent was the temperature, that's pretty exceptional. That was mostly in the hands of Mother Nature although in hindsight I'd have either dressed better for the elements or sat indoors. Either way, Vin de Set is a fabulous bistro in St. Louis and I recommend it highly. The cheese course was delicious and generous enough to share. Our table required a second helping of the fresh baked bread. I ordered a tilefish entree, that evening's special and it arrived perfectly cooked served on top of some tender-crisp veggies, which isn't really my favored preparation method. I also tasted the flatiron steak and frites; the steak's juicy and meaty flavor reminded me that when cooked properly, flatiron steak is a cut well worth the calories. For desert, we sampled the beignets with various sauces, the raspberry being the most outstanding to me. I also ordered the lime and blueberry crepes which I thought to be even better, with the lime's tart flavor paring well with the warm blueberry.

With all that was going on in the area that particular weekend, our hotel choices were limited. We ended up at a Hampton Inn in Glen Carbon, Illinois. When we arrived, I heard the dreaded phrase "soccer team." Certain phrases overheard at checkout can strike fear or horror in the heart of a traveler, and any sort of sports team or group that arrives via school bus ranks highly on the list. Usually hordes of kids lead to noisy hallways later in the evening and very early in the morning and a breakfast area that has been picked clean of any remaining food by 7am. So it was quite the pleasant surprise when the only way we knew there was any sort

of sports team was sharing our hotel was seeing a few of the teen boys lounging in the front sitting area playing PS3 on the big screen tv.

Other than being a bit out of the way with virtually nothing located really close by, it was very quiet and had a thoughtfully designed floorplan to our room. Just what I want in a hotel. The hair dryer did quit functioning while we were there. Twice. Both times they replaced it promptly and were friendly as well.

During the drive home, we took a slightly different route south than the utterly dull I-55. We followed the Great River Road southward to just north of Cape Girardeau, Missouri. One of the more interesting things we found along the way was the giant Brook's catsup bottle as we were heading through Collinsville, IL. It's a 170 foot tall water tower built in 1949 for a local bottler of Brook's catsup. Just like the giant peach water tower in Gaffney, SC, it's a sight you can't miss and at the same time is difficult to capture in words. It's something practical turned into roadside art that captures a bit of the fun in engineering something otherwise ordinary and mundane. I'm glad there are designers who do that and make life for the rest of us a little more entertaining.

We crossed the Mississippi River at Chester, home to the creator of Popeye and his cast of characters. Statues of these famous names dot the town with the most famous namesake greeting visitors as they cross the river. It's just another one of those roadside oddities that make sharing the backroads with farm implements worthwhile.

Picnic in the Park

Last weekend Mother Nature finally allowed us to experience a bit of that wonderful spring weather I've been anxiously awaiting after what has seemed like an unending winter. So with temperatures predicted in the low 70's and sunshine on order, the husband and I decided to make a drive to Village Creek State Park near Wynne, Arkansas.

The state park falls along Crowley's Ridge, an unusual geologic formation that runs southward from the northeastern corner of Arkansas. In essence, it means for those with sports cars or motorcycles and a desire to find twisty roads it's a pathway to fun. The parkway that follows the ridge is favored among auto enthusiasts, motorcyclists and bicyclists that reside nearby. Driving to the park can be quick and bland by taking the main highways, or much more entertaining with decent quality roads (a little rough in some spots) that snake along the edge of the ridge. I did see one offshoot from the road we traveled with one of those magical "Crooked and Steep Next # Miles" signs and made note of the highway number. Oh yes, I will be back there to see if the sign is accurate and the road worthy of repeated travel.

The park itself is comprised of 7000 acres sitting atop Crowley's Ridge. It boasts two lakes and miles upon miles of trails for walking, hiking, cycling, or traveling on an ATV or horseback. We had our choice of many picnic tables overlooking Lake Austell and after a quick lunch went to the visitors center for more info about the trails. The one we walked, the Arboretum Trail, was a bit muddy in spots after the previous night's heavy rain, but that rain left every little creek running all along the trail. It's well marked, requires very minimal climbing and has signs pointing out some of the interesting trees along the path.

I was both pleased and impressed with the quality of the park. Arkansas does a great job with it's state parks; they're usually well maintained, clean and friendly to both the pedestrians and those on wheels. I hope to see more of the state's parks throughout the rest of the year. Right now I'm just happy to see spring!

Atlanta Eats & Entertainment

My traveling days have started again with a long weekend trip to Atlanta. Our primary reason for the trip was to visit the High Museum and see The Allure of the Automobile exhibit. Granted it's been a while since I've been anywhere so any excuse would be good, but the opportunity to see such a fascinating collection of automobiles was irresistible.

The High Museum houses as a collection of exhibits, some permanent, others made Atlanta a temporary home in their travels. My husband and I spent most of our time at automotive exhibit. The sheer size of some of the vehicles was immense, dwarfing even today's Expeditions and Escalades that tower over modern full-size cars on the road. The focus was on rare and unique cars of the 1930's to 1960's. Many shown were valued in the millions, and all truly priceless in that there were so few made initially, much less surviving today. Seeing some of these cars is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and on June 20th they return to their respective owners. (I kept coming back to admire and photograph this Bugatti. To borrow a phrase from the Jeremy Clarkson book of car descriptivism, it was absolutely stunning.)

We made the requisite pass through other exhibits including 14th to 19th century european art, architecture and photography exhibits, and wandered through the contemporary art. The contemporary areas reminded us that we share the same view of it; it's the one where we both stand there with a slightly baffled look, scratching our heads and wondering what exactly influenced the artist to adhere a malformed metal sack to the bottom of an equally bizarre metal sculpture. Was it acid? Maybe too much vodka? For now I'll remain content to stare and wonder "Huh?"

Friday night while roaming around Atlantic Station in search of dinner, we came across Copeland's Cheesecake Bistro. It had a jazzy, upbeat decor and every table was filled, even at 10pm. I ordered the Almond Crusted Trout Meuniere; the trout was a bit bland and would have been improved with a dash of lemon. What made the dish noteworthy was the onion straws, as they added a needed zing to the flavor overall. Between the garlic mashed potatoes and the creamy marinara linguine served with my husband's Parmesan Crusted Chicken dish, it was clear the kitchen wasn't stingy with the garlic. It was potent enough I should be vampire-safe for a while, but it was not overpowering in either dish. The Parmesan Crusted Chicken was surprisingly moist and not overly salty, which can easily happen with a chicken tenderloin dish.

The next night we decided to go for something a little different. Flip Burger Boutique is where the cool kids go for a burger. With a bustling, music throbbing atmosphere and very quirky decor, its not the destination for a quiet dinner. From the menu, they have great onion rings, some of the best I've tasted. They lost something as they cooled off but in contrast the french fries did not. The flip burger was not really noteworthy and was a bit on the bland side. The A5, a Kobe burger with foie gras, truffle oil and a red wine syrup was a real standout. Then again it should be something special. As we reviewed the menu, I wondered aloud what a $39 burger tastes like. I can now say I have had a Kobe burger and a $39 burger at that. It was juicy and had a distinctive blend of flavors from the oil, syrup and foie gras that pared well with the excellent flavor of the beef. For desert we shared a Krispy Kreme shake. What exactly makes a Krispy Kreme shake? Tiny bits of Krispy Kreme donut blended into a vanilla milkshake. Pretty tasty, like the rest of the meal, but not quite the earth-moving experience one would hope for, especially from a $39 burger. (So what does at $39 burger look like? See the pic above.)

Sunday afternoon we made a pass through Ikea. When I mention in conversation that the cinnamon rolls there are exceptionally good, sized large enough to share and priced at merely one dollar each, I get some puzzled looks. How could this Ikea place produce a shared lunch of one generously sized slice of cheese pizza, one large cinnamon roll and two bottles of water for under $5? All it takes is a visit to one of their stores and it becomes obvious that the good quality of food at such meager prices fits their business persona perfectly. Thankfully the closest one to me is an eight hour drive, explaining in part the odd responses I get to their food. Due to the distance it's more a destination and I don't feel guilty when I walk in the store, inhale the aroma of those fresh baked cinnamon rolls and know instantly I will not be able to resist the temptation. One of those tasty treats will be consumed before I leave the premises. Oh by the way, they sell some interesting stuff to furnish your home and office too. (The restaurant is merely an aside to the main purpose of the store, shopping.) Pricing is very moderate and the style is mostly contemporary; if I were furnishing a dorm room, small apartment or condo, I'd be making the drive to an Ikea. Making the absolute most use of a very small living space is something they have down to a science. Who else can put together a functional living room, kitchen and bedroom into a 350 square foot space? I don't know I could anymore, it's been just long enough from my dorm dwelling days so that now I've accumulated enough stuff to make condensing down challenging. Ask my husband, I don't do condensing unless properly motivated.

A surprise in the food department was the breakfast at our hotel, the Residence Inn. It was actually better than adequate! Check out any hotel that serves a continental or "hot" breakfast that is included with all rooms. The spread will contain bread, some sort of small pastry (muffin, croissant, or danish, all interchangeable), under-ripe fruit such as bananas or apples, yogurt, fruit juice and milk. The fancy ones might spring for granola or some canned "fresh" fruit, or even English muffins. If they serve a "hot breakfast" prepare for pre-cooked sausage patties, bacon or powdered eggs. Some like to add a belgian waffle station so they can lay claim to the "hot" breakfast title too, however 95% of the time the ones going for the waffles are the little kids and teenage boys. So when I found the obligatory green bananas and cake-like muffins plus a few more items at breakfast, I was glad to see the added choices. The surprise came when I tasted the food and it wasn't totally blah, it was actually good.

Speaking of the hotel, the location couldn't have been more convenient if I'd planned it. All within a less than 5 minute drive were most of our destinations, most closer than that. Our top floor room was well sized and the layout spacious. With the top floor rooms, the ceilings are very high with exposed beams, contributing to the open feel of the room. I have two across-the-board complaints about virtually every hotel I visit; noise from the hallway and a lack of well placed plugins. While this hotel did have the typical hallway noise, I was impressed with the thought put into the plugins. There weren't just a few of them, they were plentiful and spread out with good placement throughout the suite. Kudos to you, Residence Inn Atlanta Midtown for making life easy for today's teched-up traveler!

As I promised here a couple of years ago, we returned to the Marietta Diner on Sunday night. The cheesesticks appetizer was a great start to a good meal as well as the spanakoptia. As normal for there, the portions were gargantuan, with the fried chicken being a WHOLE chicken, and the Perogies in my dish were the size of my fist. The perogies (photo at left) were in a dish with sautéed mushrooms, spinach, red peppers and chicken, which was then topped with a garlic (more garlic) alfredo sauce. The fried chicken was a bit on the sweet side, a bit more than I like. For dessert, and who can go to this place without ordering desert, we had a pastry labeled simply "Koh" (photo on right) which our waitress really didn't know much about other than she'd been told it was good. Whoever told her that was right, as whatever the creme filling in the middle was, I could have eaten it alone with a spoon. Overall the Marietta Diner didn't disappoint and I'd still encourage anyone passing through the area to make the stop. Just be prepared to take some time to take in the vast menu, it's really that huge.

On this trip, we also made a stop at the World of Coca-Cola museum. It's interesting how the company makes this piece of a gargantuan marketing machine something actually worth paying to see. I won't share a lot of details and spoil the fun for those who may visit, but the tasting room is an experience not to be missed, and be sure to try the Beverly!

A Sweet Day

Any day that starts with a scrumptious cupcake as a prelude to lunch can't be all bad. Sure enough, the rest of the day lived up to my high expectations.

The day I speak of was last Saturday. I went on a day trip to Memphis with my husband and friends. Our goal for the day was to eat our way through the city with some shopping interspersed to reduce the likely onset of guilt and gluttony.

First stop was the cupcake shop, Gigi's. (Photo above is the display case. I'm fighting the urge to lick my screen right now.) I'm definitely an ardent fan of the treats from Cupcakes on Kavanaugh in Little Rock, and it will always be a little extra special to me because it was where I first tasted a truly "gourmet" cupcake. It was a eye-opening moment to take in the mountain of rich icing atop a moist gem of cake goodness. I would list Gigi's as a solid runner-up in the gourmet cupcake category if I were making such lists. Just like Cupcakes on Kavanaugh, the cake part itself lacks a little in the homemade flavor and texture, but the icing makes up for it in both quantity and quality. It's superb. Thanks to friends with a willingness to share (and cupcakes giant enough to make sharing possible) I was able to sample Chocolate Malt, Milk Chocolate, Wedding Cake and Scarlett's Velvet. While they were all good and the Malt would please any malt fan, Scarlett's Velvet was my favorite. It was the most moist and the icing atop wasn't quite as starkly sweet. That said, there wasn't a bad bite in the bunch as you can see from the photo of the aftermath. (Photo at right.)

We made a few shopping stops (I highly recommend Fleet Feet on Poplar to the runners/walkers out there) and headed out to The Avenue at Carriage Crossing in Collierville. Memphis is a city that has very defined areas where it's safe to be after dark. Just driving across the city, we saw a number of runners out soaking up the sunny spring day. Some probably could run with no more distraction than a neighbor's puppy wanting to play; others made me wonder how comfortable it would be running while packing heat. Either way, I could appreciate the beautiful weather and I'm even more appreciative of living in a reasonably safe enough town to step out my door and go for a run without having to dress like Laura Croft.

Anyway, The Avenue is an open-air shopping district that is made for beautiful spring days like this one. We stopped for lunch at Crescent City, a cajun cafe. Overall, the service was a mix of disinterested waitresses and one waiter hustling back & forth from the kitchen. The decor and atmosphere was relaxed and the location easily accessible. Of the items we ordered, the one standout was the Crawfish Dip, with excellent fresh tortilla chips. All the dishes had a spicy hot kick that was good but not overpowering. We also had an obligation to sample the Beignets as part of our eating across the city mission and were satisfied with them enough to push through more shopping afterward.

Our last food stop of the day was at Firebirds Rocky Mountain Grill. I've visited the restaurant before but my friends had not and were eager to try something new. While the food isn't what I'd call absolutely superb, it's a good bit better than the average casual dining fare. Since I've been on a bit of a seafood kick lately, I really enjoyed the grilled grouper I ordered. And the absolute last dish on the menu I'd have ordered, the Buffalo Meatloaf, turned out to be edible! It was good enough that I recall thinking "if meatloaf tasted like this, I'd actually eat it, and maybe even go so far as to make it myself." So yes, it was some pretty spectacular meatloaf to make me reconsider my dislike of it from childhood. Throwing the warm, rustic atmosphere into the mix, dinner at Firebirds made for a excellent way to relax at the end of a hard day of eating, shopping and strolling around on a gorgeous spring afternoon.

Upcoming Travels

Over the last couple of months my travels have been a bit less frequent, but not to worry, I have plenty planned for 2010. Coming up soon is a trip to the High Museum in Atlanta, as well as a return stop for more of that spectacular cake at the Marietta Diner. Also we'll be venturing to St. Louis to visit friends and go to what I've been assured is the best restaurant in St. Louis. This comes from a friend who has taste I trust in restaurants, so we'll see if it lives up to the hype.

Also in 2010 I'm planning to go back up to Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin and in the fall to Maui. So in this blog post I'm soliciting advise from my vast range of readers or at least those who haven't either given up on my travels or fallen asleep at the keyboard. Any recommendation for meals or interesting things to see or do in my planned destinations? I'm open to ideas!

A Genuine, Well-Dressed, Friendly Greeting

Just an observation here. Why is it that restaurant hostesses have an attitude? Out of all the restaurants I've been to over the years (lots) it seems the most likely person in any of them to be unpleasant is the hostess.

Tonight for example, I went to Cracker Barrel for dinner with my husband. After waiting around a while, the hostess eventually returned to her stand and asked us "how many?" without so much as cracking a smile.

"Two please."

"Follow me." Still no smile.

She proceeds to jet across the restaurant in some sort of turbo-mode. As she speeds up her walk, I try to catch her attention and end up literally running to catch her.

"Sorry to ask, but would it be possible to get a table a little closer to the door?"

If looks could kill, I'd be dead ten times over. She glared at me as she pushed past my husband and I and went into another turbo-bolt back across the restaurant.

"Will this work?" followed with another death-defying glare.

Maybe I should have made my request a little sooner, but at the same time she gave me little to no opportunity to do so. The interesting part is that clearly she learned her abrasive attitude from the best; ordinarily there's quite the grumpy woman who fills that position most days. She must have had the night off and her understudy was doing her very best to fill in some mighty big shoes.

Being grumpy isn't what I usually see in restaurant hostesses. More frequently, it's that whole "I have the keys to the kingdom, bow before me, meager restaurant patron" persona. I have to wonder what the proprietor would think to see their patrons being looked down upon so strongly as they entered the restaurant.

Then there's that artificially sweet greeting some offer. It's so over the top faked that you feel you need a shower after their drippy-sweet "Welcome to Charlie's Beer Barn."

I won't go into another long diatribe, but suffice it to say that in many a restaurant, someone needs to tell the hostesses that I'd prefer not to see that much of their body, please cover it up. I don't care if you are 19 and think everyone wants to see your legs, buns or overly propped-up cleavage. I don't.

I know not all hostesses are this way, there are those who are genuinely pleasant and do their job well. They're the exception, not the rule, a sad reality. To those, I mean no offense.

So genuinely friendly, appropriately dressed hostesses (and hosts, not to leave the guys out here), I am seeking your restaurants! I sincerely want to be a patron at your restaurant and let the owners and managers of those with the unpleasant hostesses see me vote with my feet and my wallet for the better service.

And it's a Wrap

I just looked back at my blog now that the holiday rush is over and I cringed. No posts since October? Has my life been that uneventful since October there's nothing of noteworthy interest?

Mostly, yes. But not entirely.

In early December my husband and I went with a couple of friends to see the Christmas decorations at Opryland Hotel and take a weekend off during the holidays. As it has been in past years, they spare no expense at decorating on a grand scale with giant Christmas trees several stories tall, immense wreaths and ribbons. Throughout the garden areas numerous variations of poinsettias added perfect color to the lush green.

However, I think it may be our last trip to spend the night there. At one point, I was standing in fifth floor hotel hallway with my ear to a house phone, luggage piled around me a full five hours after my arrival at the hotel, feeling a bizarre blend of shock, humor and exhaustion. The front desk clerk was offering me a small hotel room with the only bed being a pull-out sofa bed, a stark contrast to the premium balcony suite with a king size bed I'd reserved. That was the last straw. Despite making reservations months in advance, the hotel completely bungled things up. The room we ended up with wasn't at all what we reserved, and out of the many trips we've made there, I think a trip we made there last summer is the first and only one I can recall where the rooms were actually correct right from the start. How a resort can do so much otherwise right but fail so miserably on the reservations is unbelievable and really inexcusable.

We did discover that there's a few restaurants on the property well worth a return visit. Actually there are three, but one isn't so much a restaurant as a dose of chocolate delight. The Godiva shop sells a concoction called a Chocolixir. One sip and its additive properties take over the taste buds. We discovered these sweet-tooth taunting drinks last summer and made it a point to go back for seconds (well, thirds as we went for two rounds last summer!)

Moving on to the true restaurants. (Chocolate is good but for some reason my body does require real substance once in a while.) The famed Old Hickory Steakhouse isn't bad, but it is definitely over-hyped. We went there for dinner one night and the best course by far was the cheese course. The steaks and side dishes were mediocre at best, and the quality for the cost wasn't what I would expect. The Italian restaurant Volare was quite the contrary, it was excellent! It may have been in part due to our exhaustion, after all, we'd been struggling that first night to get simply checked into correct rooms and were all frustrated and hungry, but the starting with the salads the food was quite tasty and that has to be some of the best fried mozzarella I've ever tasted. Everything at dinner that night was exceptionally good, from the pasta and seafood entrees to the spectacular sampler desert. Our favorite of the deserts was the Ravioli al Marscapone; I'd go back just to have this tasty and unusual delight. In an effort to make up for the lousy experience we had getting our room, one of the managers also provided us with vouchers for breakfast for four at Water's Edge Marketplace Buffet. Ordinarily I'm not a fan of buffets and certainly wouldn't wait forty-five minutes to get a seat but given our lack of choices at the time, we waited. As Alton Brown says "your patience will be rewarded" and in this case, it was. The eggnog bread pudding was definitely something to write home about and for a buffet, the food quality was noteworthy.

I wouldn't however spend the night on a sofa bed to get any of the restaurants mentioned here. I am just now getting over the shock, horror and bodily aches of hauling around luggage for five hours. Maybe the manager should have thrown in a long massage, that might have eased my misery at the time a bit more.

We made one other restaurant stop but it wasn't on the Gaylord Opryland property. On our way out of town, we went to The Cheesecake Factory for Sunday brunch. Thankfully, this one is about as close as they get to my home or I'd be there way more often than I should. I know it's a chain, and while I usually express a bit of chain snobbery, I see why they have enormous profitability per store, in fact is the largest of the chain restaurants in the US. They manage an impressively huge menu and the day we went it was all fresh and fantastic.

It was a worthwhile trip and the decorations are something of a spectacle, especially to those who've never been to the hotel. To really take in the hotel, I recommend going during a different time of year; to get a little taste of the holidays (including getting indoctrinated to the crowds) it's not a bad visit. Just be really, really sure of your reservations and presume they'll be treated as merely a suggestion of what you'd like in a room when you get there.

Hot Springs, Arkansas is one of those resort towns I haven't been to in ages, at least up until about a week ago. Not surprisingly it has changed a bit since I was last there about 20 years ago. It looks in some ways like any typical tourist friendly town with the variety of chain restaurants and box hotels, with downtown playing host to an active restaurant and kitschy gift shops. Typical but overall not too bad. I've seen far worse and thus haven't been back to certain areas of Tennessee or Missouri for fear of a redneck kitsch overload.

It was a fun weekend getaway with my husband and parents, but the trip was plagued with bad weather and dismal food. The only time I saw blue skies was in the car about an hour from home. The food? It was a mixed bag of good, bad and just plain awful.

At least we started off with the good food. On the way, we made a stop for lunch at The Diner in Cabot, Arkansas. My husband and I had stopped there once prior and we were not disappointed this time either. The fried catfish, one of the daily lunch specials, was some of the best I have had in a long time. Everything we ate was quite good. The atmosphere doesn't hurt either; the staff makes even the passerby feel welcome, and the day we went Michael Shaw was playing his guitar and singing. (Many kudos to him too, he is quite the talented guy and can cover a range from John Denver to the Beatles to Johnny Cash and do a mighty fine job at them all.)

Our final destination wasn't actually in Hot Springs, but rather Mountain Harbor Resort & Spa, which sits tucked away on Lake Ouachita in the Ouachita National Forest between Hot Springs and Mt. Ida, Arkansas. It's secluded but a relatively short distance from the more metro areas, and it's really not quite what I typically envision when I think "resort & spa." We reserved a cabin near the lodge & restaurant with a wooded view. I have to admit I was a bit disappointed that it seemed a bit older and smaller than I'd expected. The floor plan was odd too; for a two bedroom, two bath cabin, I wouldn't have expected the bathrooms to both be at the end of the hall, not at all attached to either bedroom and small enough to induce some serious claustrophobia. For two couples, it was workable but not the ideal scenario. While it was small and definitely dated, the cabin was neat, clean and very convenient to the lodge restaurant.

We did discover one problem that might not be so easy to overlook though. It seemed chilly in our cabin, and despite turning on the heat, it wasn't getting much warmer. We strolled over to the restaurant for dinner and mentioned the problem to the front desk. Just after we'd ordered our dinner, one of the resort managers came to our table. "I have good news and bad news. You were correct about your heat not working, and the bad news is that it isn't going to start working anytime soon either," she told us. She gave us an apologetic look and continued, "however the good news is we want to move you to another cabin, and we'll be giving you a free upgrade!" She told us about the new cabin's location, which was not located right at the lodge, but nearby and it had a view of the lake. We agreed, she provided our new cabin keys and we continued with our dinner.

Speaking of dinner, the lodge restaurant is relatively small and doesn't have a huge menu, but the food was quite good. It's home-cooking with a few culinary touches that take it up a notch from basic southern lodge food. Good examples were two dishes I sampled, the Key West Chicken Sandwich and the Southwestern Style Baked Potato. Neither had that heat-n-eat pre-made taste, which I initially had expected to find based on the location and appearance of the resort overall.

After dinner we moved to our new cabin and the difference was dramatic. This was what I had expected to find and then some! A real gem, tucked away in the woods, yet with a large back deck providing views of the lake and woods around it. High ceilings, a small but serviceable kitchen, bedrooms each with their own private bath and french doors leading out to the deck. It was newer, with a better floor plan, and most of all, more spacious. For a weekend escape it was a perfect location.

The following day, we had a late lunch at Burl's Country Smokehouse in Royal. Royal, like several other communities in the area, are the epitome of what southerners describe as a "wide spot in the road." There are plenty of them, with an equal number of little diners and dairy shacks so that at least you know if you're lost, you won't have to go without food for too long anyway. Back to Burl's, it's not so much a restaurant as a deli and country store with some seating available. Based on the delicious scent wafting through the cool fall air, it was obvious Burl's had an active smokehouse on-site. Both the turkey and ham were as smoky good as the smell outside had led me to expect, and it was well worth the stop for lunch.

This was where the good food on this trip ended. I could skip the rest, but sometimes my travels serve not just as a recommendation but as a warning of pitfalls to avoid. Porterhouse in Hot Springs is one such place. It looked good from the street, but that was where it ended. In short, it was a place that at one time might have been good, but since then all the employees with any culinary talent have moved on, leaving it to the has-been and wanna-be upscale steakhouse staff. The food was not horrible (wait for it, that's next) but it lacked inspiration or anything interesting.

The next day on our trip home we stopped in at La Hacienda. Over the years, I have seen it promoted as the place for Mexican food. Whoever "they" are that determined this was the place, they lied. It didn't start out as a bad experience, the chips and salsa were both good. After that, the wheels fell off the tasty train. The tamales were some of the worst I have ever tasted anywhere. Truly awful. Its a shame too, as they looked homemade and visually were appealing. The taste failed to live up to anywhere close to what I expected. Not to be totally disparaging of the place, the service was very good. The remaining dishes I sampled, including tacos and carnitas were both just average, not a grand disaster like those tamales thankfully!

So overall, we had a good weekend relaxing at our cabin but the eats were a mixed bag of hits and big misses. Either way it's an adventure, and those are never a bad thing. They're the stuff that makes for good memories!

Destination : BBQ and Pie

Going to a new restaurant based on a review is always a risk. Do I know the person who gave the review? Is this a trusted friend, someone who I know has similar tastes and tolerances to my own, or is this an unknown reviewer out there in the vast blogosphere? This past week I took a chance, based on a review of two pie shops and a bbq restaurant in DeVall's Bluff, a small town just southwest of Brinkley and I-40 in Arkansas.

So the husband and I loaded up with our neighbors and headed off for a short road trip for a BBQ lunch and some pie for desert. After a drive through the flat farmlands of the Delta, where the farmers always seem to have too much (or not enough) rain, we arrived at what was not a lot more than a wide spot in the road. The sign greeting us read "DeVall's Bluff, population 780." This definitely would be an interesting experience at least.

First stop in town was for lunch at Craig's BBQ. It's the typical older bbq shack building from the exterior, and even more simple and dated inside. Layers of linoleum peek out around the floor, showing that the sign outside proclaiming "est. 1947" probably isn't an exaggeration. Our enthusiastic and friendly waitress arrives and we order up the pork bbq and lemonade to drink, which she coyly assures us is good, "'cause I made it." One sip and I agreed, it was good lemonade, less tart and more sweet than most. The bbq wasn't quite what we expected, as it was sliced rather than pulled pork. I'd also read a review on RoadFood.com that warned of the heat levels to their sauce. The sandwiches arrived already sauced, and I wisely chose mild. I sampled the medium sauce version my husband ordered and as I consumed more cooling lemonade I pondered just how flammable was their hot sauce. I was saving my bravery for later or I'd probably had to ask for a taste of the hot sauce, just out of curiosity. I don't know I quite agree with RoadFood's overall review of "Worth driving from anyplace," but it would make a good stop along my way if I were traveling through the area.

Next stop: Pie Shop. Not just any generic grocery store bakery, but a step back in time to Family Pie Shop (also known as Mary's Place.) Just across the street, set back from the highway about 100 feet is this white cinder block building with "pie shop" hand painted on the side. We passed the driveway a couple of times, debating in the car if that actually was the real entrance or just a driveway to a house next door. My friend and I stepped in through the screen door and instantly I was transported back to my grandmother's kitchen both from the sight and the smell. Ms. Mary came out to greet us and told us what kind of pies she had today. "Chocolate, coconut and one or two apricot fried pies." She carefully gathered up our selections from her kitchen, slipping the chocolate mini-pies (about 5-inch individual pies) into Styrofoam containers and graciously thanked us for stopping by. She genuinely seemed to take modest pride in her work and that alone made me glad we sought out her pie shop.

As we stopped at a local gas station further down the road headed home, we dove into the pies. It was simple, good homemade pie. It wasn't one of those overpriced concoctions that boasts vast mountains of meringue above a mediocre filling, it was all clearly homemade and good. Not a "turn the car around, I need more NOW" type of good, but tasty nonetheless. I don't recommend that neat freaks or those indoctrinated to the southern small-town restaurant kitchen go inside; it's not a shiny commercial production kitchen but a hodge-podge of ovens, plastic bowls and utensils from 10 years ago or more, low lighting, no seating for customers, and its one nod to the modern world, a substantially-sized commercial grade stainless refrigerator.

Overall it was a good trip for the company, the adventure and trying something new. I can't say I was as overwhelmingly impressed with the food as the reviews led me to believe, but both are worth trying as a stop along the road. And the service? It's typical of a small town in the Mississippi delta, it's consistently more friendly and inviting than many other places I've been.

The Panini Press Goes Wild

As a cook, I learn new tricks regularly and I'm always on the lookout for more. I like combining new ingredients and using kitchen devises in ways that they weren't exactly intended for, in a non-Darwin award winning sort of manner anyway. I think maybe observing Alton Brown's "only one uni-tasker in the kitchen is allowed, and that's the fire extinguisher" philosophy has encouraged my adventurous nature and has made me more willing to approach things with a little more creativity.

However, I somehow doubt that the makers of my panini press had the idea of how I'd be making use of that devise, and I again have Alton Brown to thank (or blame.) While I was in Nashville at the Food & Wine Festival, he told our little group about an interesting use for a panini press. "Take some day old Krispy Kremes," he said, "and put them on the press. It's a great way to use up those old donuts you'd toss and it is really good!"

Hmmm. Leftover doughnuts? What is this he was speaking of? Oh, this is for those people who don't eat all the doughnuts the instant they get them! What a novel concept...

So one weekend shortly after the festival, it was time to give this a try. Since I live in a town not graced with the presence of a Krispy Kreme but we do get them delivered in by truck to local grocery stores, my friends arrived at our house with a box of semi-fresh donuts in hand. Into the kitchen we went, firing up the press. A little warm-up time later, we dropped a few doughnuts on the press and closed the lid, waiting to see what happened.

What emerged from the grill about 45 seconds later was an entirely new taste and texture experience and I can't begin to compare it to any other food I've had so far. It was this caramelized sugary pastry goodness that was really the anti-doughnut. It no longer had that melt-in-your-mouth lightness, it now had some resistance to bite. They were still sweet, but that sweetness transformed from a sugary coating to an almost caramel or toffee flavor. It sounds bizarre and tasted really great. To make sure we were getting the most bang for our panini press buck, we tried two other versions besides the classic glazed doughnut; cinnamon bun donuts and chocolate covered donuts (both varieties are here). The cinnamon bun type did well while the chocolate ones just melted the chocolate frosting right off the top.

To really put the icing on the cake, we gave them a finishing touch of just a bit of vanilla icing dolloped onto the still hot doughnut. As if the now flattened, caramelized treats weren't sinfully good enough on their own, the icing simply pushed them off into their own category of deliciousness.

In fact, the only downside I can find to making these is the cleanup. My panini press thankfully has one amazing non-stick coating and while there's plenty of sugar bits left to clean up after, it's not some arduous task. Since this first trial was such a success, we've gone back for more which has been met with equally good results and just as many smiles.

Now to go ponder more uses for the panini press, since I can no longer relegate it to being just a sandwich taskmaster anymore.

Basil Gelato and an Improved Hotel Experience

Nothing like being sick on a weekend, especially a long holiday weekend to keep me sitting around bored. The only upside is I can get in a lot of reading. Sometimes even updating my blog!

I have this habit of finding a really fun event, then if I find I like it, making it a yearly occurrence. There are a number of places I've visited that while they were good, they weren't quite the "lets come back next year" type of destination. Alton Brown's seminar at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel in Nashville is one of those events worth going back each year and this year was no exception.

Last year I gave the hotel some poor marks as it seemed a bit less kept at tip-top shape than it had in the past. Thankfully I can report that this year they've gone back to the quality I'd come to expect. The rooms have all been renovated, and with a 4th floor Delta room, we had a fantastic view. For the first time I can recall, we got the exact type of room we requested, down to every detail; located in the Delta section, near the exhibit halls, a king-size bed, located nearby our friends traveling with us and most importantly, a balcony. Big kudos to the staff that made that happen! For those who've not been to the resort, it's comparable in size to the behemoths in Las Vegas. A room nearby the places you want to go can save you from coming home needing a vacation to recover from your vacation.

The first night we attended a private cocktail reception and dinner for us and 40 of our "closest friends" with Alton Brown. Surprisingly, it was so well done that it didn't seem quite like there were 40 of us. Just getting to stand around and chat a bit with Alton was great, not at all like the typical hurried rush of a book-signing. While we had our dinner at the Old Hickory restaurant, he mingled about the tables talking about just whatever topic came up. Speaking of the dinner, it was one of the more interesting meals I've had in a while. Without covering every course in detail, although I probably should given the rather sizable cost of the meal, it was definitely not a menu of items I'd have ordered, but I was glad to have the opportunity to try them all. The steak was an unusual cut of beef, and to me tasted great. Then there was desert, which included a pretty scoop of gelato, which my husband dove into enthusiastically. That is, until he tasted the first bite and realized it was basil gelato. After turning about eight shades of basil green, he swallowed and decided he was done with the desert after all. (In photo at left, the scoop on the right side. See? Looks harmless enough.) Suffice it to say that after spending that much for a meal that ended with basil gelato, I am confident I will get occasional reminders of it for a long time. (Which I did, just yesterday.)

Alton's seminar the next day was informative and fun as always. Every year I learn something either about cooking or food in general and come away with at least one new recipe. This year his lesson stemmed from his recent weight loss. Fourty pounds lighter than he started the year, Alton shared with the crowd one big change he made... "less going into the pie hole." In his usual analytic approach, he explained how he looked not just quantities but the types of food he was eating and saw what lead up to the weight he had gained over the years. One big change he made was in the types of fats he was consuming, thus leading into his presentation centered around healthful fish, specifically trout. He prepared trout three ways on stage, all of which looked delicious. Attendees of the event get a copy of all three recipes, and I am looking forward to trying at least a couple of them soon.

What he didn't discuss on stage about his weight loss was the part that isn't of interest to most foodies, the exercise. That he discussed with a couple of us exercise junkies at the previous night's cocktail reception. I always find it reassuring hearing others reiterate what I know to be true for me, which is that eating habit changes will help take off the weight, but exercise is key to keeping it off and being all-around healthier. Alton and I discussed his new-found interest in running and other cross-training; I could relate to his picking up running well past high school. I certainly would have never described myself as athletic, and up until recent years happily did my best to avoid all things athlete. However, "exercise is essential" isn't what those struggling with weight challenges want to hear, but the bottom line is it takes both nutritional balance and exercise for long-term, long-lasting benefits. And now I will step down off my virtual soapbox.

This year the hotel took Alton's seminar and expanded it drastically. It became a weekend-long event called the Southern Food & Wine Festival and included two other speakers, the Dean brothers and the Neelys. Also included was an exhibit hall full of mostly southern vendors offering everything from truffles to trailer-sized gas grills. It was a foodie's fun house with samples in overabundance. We didn't have quite enough time to really stroll through the place like I'd have preferred, but I did give everything at least a cursory glance. Compared to the industry-only food shows I've attended in the past, it was smaller but almost as much fun.

This year we got a bit lazy and decided not to find dinner off property but rather find something at the resort. We wandered into Findley's Irish Pub and found it good for a couple of things, bar food and people watching. Another convention was ending one event and its participants were being gingerly ushered down a red carpet from their exhibit hall area into a night club next to the pub. I'm not sure we ever figured out what the convention was about, but they were dressed in mostly formal attire, with the occasional strange "accent" pieces. It made for good entertainment anyway as we dined. In regards to the food at the pub, the burger served on an english muffin was good as was the cheese sampler plate. Overall though, the parade of conventioneers passing by was probably the highlight of that meal.

As always we made a point to stop by the Godiva store, and after drinking one Chocolixir, I am thankful that the store is miles from my home. That is one addictive concoction that I would drink at every opportunity, and my running legs are grateful that the opportunities are not plentiful or they would pay the price frequently.

One last little tidbit that made our trip exceptional this year was the decision to rent a Segway from Segway of Nashville. The owner was fantastic to work with, and it made easy work of getting from one end of the hotel to the other. Gauging from the responses of the public visiting at the resort, the notion that Segways are viewed as "dorky" seems to be a misconception. People were fascinated by the device, some merely stole second glances, others stopped us to chat and ask questions. I wouldn't have expected to find it easy to maneuver in a tightly crowded exhibit hall, but inching along in a crowd wasn't a challenge. It's simply best described as fun and easy transportation, no question about it.

If they'll stay on this track, I'll be back next year.

Thanks to Warren Lyng for putting together such a fantastic event, as always. Thanks to Kye for the pic of the desert. Man that was seriously good eats!

Sensory Overload, Part 2

The food at Road America was horrible, really. Don't go to the track and eat. The people you see eating? They're desperate individuals clamoring for any semi-edible substance.

Well, ok... not really. In actuality, it's good. Really, really good. I just don't want the word to get out because the lines will get long.

The numerous food stands are run by local civic organizations, so it's in their interest to make the food worth eating and they succeed. In that whole sensory overload department, it fills in the gaps where the track ends. The smell of burgers, chicken and brats cooking over massive grills fills the air near every stand. The smoke curling up into the air provides a guide to the source of that delicious scent. Step around to the counter and the menus range from fresh cheese curds, which I ordered with apparently enough southern accent to entertain the locals manning one stand, to burgers to something called a "Walking Taco." Anything with that strange of a name I had to try. One Doritos bag filled with crushed chips, some sort of meat concoction, cheese, and salsa later I will admit, it was money well spent. Fresh roasted corn dipped in melted butter, homemade ice cream cookie sandwiches, grilled brats; it was all the makings of county fair food, with a bit less of that "we'll deep fry anything" approach that dominates in the south.

Outside of the track, we went to Elkhart Lake (remember, population just over 1000) for some amazingly good meals. The Paddock Club was probably one of my favorites with their fresh made pasta, fantastic beef fillet and Panna Cotta so good I ate every last bite and might have licked the plate were I not with a group of friends, and in public. Another evening, we had dinner at the Back Porch, literally on the restaurant's back porch overlooking Elkhart Lake. The sunset view was beautiful and while we tried cheese plates most everywhere this one was probably my favorite. I'm guessing that the wait staff heard "what kind of cheese is this one again?" few too many times so they got creative on the plating with a handy paper diagram (see photo.)
I'm also admittedly no connoisseur in the adult beverage department, but the Grape Martini at Seibkins as well as the Key Lime Martini at Back Porch were excellent ways to finish the fun day.

After about four days of cheese at virtually every meal, my body made it very clear that I was going to have to either slow down chowing down on the cheese or toss someone else the keys to the golf cart and walk around the track if I had any hopes of curtailing the artery clogging that was occurring at an alarming rate. Our group opted for a view of Lake Michigan at Seabird in Sheboygan after the races ended Sunday evening. I have to admit, it was the one place I was a bit concerned might not be good given the lack of patrons at the time, but it wasn't bad at all. The Phyllo Triangles were good as well as the roast half chicken. I think after four days of exceptional cuisine, I might have even been a bit burned out and in need of a no-frills meal or just some my own cooking.

During our last day there, we found a little local place called Restoration Gardens near Kohler. As much as I enjoyed the previous restaurants, this definitely was for the locals, which is my kind of place. There I had one of the best cinnamon rolls and a fantastic grilled apple & cheese sandwich. Yes, more cheese, but I had taken the previous day off from my cheese quest. I also sampled Hank's Root Beer which I will look for on restaurant menus; it was some of the best root beer I've ever tasted. It pairs surprisingly well with cinnamon rolls too. Who'd have thought it? (Those who know me well know I really don't drink sodas, and for the rare occasion I do, it's usually root beer. Thus my approval of Hank's is extra high praise.)

We also made a stop in at Craviere, a Kohler area chocolatier that displays chocolates in cases reminiscent of a fine jewelry shop. Prices tend to match the display, but one taste and the price really becomes "who cares?" The dark mountain toffees were a fine example of their chocolate without breaking the bank and the rare facets were just as delicious as they were elegant to see. It was just another stop that brought on more sensory overload, but still in a good way.

We also found something strange about Sheboygan. On Monday, the town shuts down. When we noticed the lack of traffic and the grand total of about four restaurants open, it made us wonder what was happening. Our waitress at local upscale pizzeria Il Ritrovo that evening confirmed that the streets are rolled up on Mondays. Speaking of Il Ritrovo, they serve wood-fired oven pizzas topped with some peculiar combinations. Seeing firsthand my ham & egg pizza topped with a fried egg struck me as a bit odd at first, but being my adventurous self, I couldn't resist. It was worth it too. Just don't ask for Pepperoni, they do not serve something that utterly common.

I can't complain about a single meal for the whole trip which rarely happens. I guess the breakfast at the hotel was a bit lacking in choices, but it was the standard complimentary continental breakfast fare. There were a couple of nights that it took a bit past our reservation time to get seated. One restaurant sent its full-bellied patrons up a long, steep staircase just to get out of the place. So if I really wanted to find fault, I am sure I could dig in and think of some fine details that were overlooked somewhere. Sometimes though, I think why bother to tarnish the memory of such good eats? I think these will stay as just that, good food in a good little town that welcomes its guests with full plates of food.

Sensory Overload, Part 1

Sitting in my hotel room in Wisconsin and having never been to any sort of automotive racing other than a few times as a teen watching the Demolition Derby at the local county fair, I really can't say I knew what to expect.

The whole thing was an experience like no other. Just taking in the four miles of road course tucked into the Wisconsin countryside with wooded areas scattered about, the setting was peaceful. Out of nowhere, the roar of a 1970's era racer would arrive followed promptly by a view of the car and it's pavement-focused driver. For the car buff, the photographer or even just the outdoorsy type, it's a bit of nirvana. If you happen to be a bit of all three like me, it's a bit of sensory overload. What to see, do and absorb first?

I started off by doing the track touring. It's an opportunity for those like me who wish they had a third of the mental connection the seasoned track drivers do with their automobiles. Despite having an experienced friend who in another life must be a driving instructor in my passenger seat, the first couple of laps were a little unnerving. The next thing I know, it's time to exit the track as the allotted 50 minutes or so had already zipped past, almost as fast as the blur of Ferrari's that had roared by me two laps ago. For some reason, I didn't mind so much being passed.

The rest of the first day my husband and I spent exploring the track and trying to stay warm and dry. Who knew that Mother Nature would bring weather so cool that it was challenging 104-year record low temperatures? Thankfully, the group we were with had rented several golf carts to get around the paddocks and various vantage points. I can't begin to imagine how they went to this event for years and didn't have any small transportation like the golf carts. Somehow they can't seem to remember how they did it either, other than to say they were smacking themselves for not renting the carts all those years prior.

Over the next two days, the weather improved and we would spend time roaming the track, watching the Morgans, the Ford GTs and GT40s, the Ferraris, Porsches and so many other fascinating cars make lap after lap around the track. There simply wasn't a bad vantage point. Race photographers didn't gather in one media area, they moved about various places around the track as did I with my once "big" lens that seemed to shrink in the presence of the pros and their monstrous lenses.

That was the "Road" of Road America, and I could go on for days about the collection of cars. Things I'd only read about and seen in photos were there for me to admire, photograph and admire some more. Car lovers beware, this place will take you in and not let go.

I might have been taken in by the sights, sounds and even smells, I didn't forget the tastes too. Those are up next...

Cheese and Vintage Cars

My husband has always been a car nut, and unlike many other car guys, his enthusiasm hasn't been hampered by an anti-car wife. It's quite the opposite. Being married to him only encouraged my own interest in cars.

Being the car guy he is, my husband has been a faithful subscriber to Road & Track magazine for around 20 years or so. This means every time we've moved the collection of magazines has been migrated to its next home. Considering that every month the number expands, I don't relish the next move. Though I do think it might be a strong motivator for hiring a moving company.

For years we've read about the vintage races in Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin at Road America. The Road & Track Concourse d'Elegance showing off all the classic Jaguar E-types, the old Astons, the Morgans... it sounds like a little slice of heaven on earth for the gas powered engine obsessed. After reading about this event for so long, this spring we finally connected with friends who've been going to the races for a number of years and they invited us along. How could we say no?

Thankfully we didn't say no and just a few weeks ago made the trip northward to Wisconsin. After a short overnight stay in Illinois on the way at a typical interstate-side "bland box" hotel we met up with our friends and headed toward the land of cheese and cars. On the way I couldn't decide which appealed more, the cars or the copious amounts of cheese I intended to consume. Whenever it came up conversation that we were traveling to Wisconsin for vacation, I was met with these puzzled looks almost always followed by "What's in Wisconsin?" After about the seventh time I had an answer ready to go. "Vintage car races, along with lots of cheese and cooler weather." That seemed to satisfy even the beach-bound crowd.

After seeing the size of Elkhart Lake, I found out why our group had chosen a hotel in nearby Sheboygan. Elkhart Lake, population 1021, has a limited number of hotels that are very much catered to the weekend race crowd that comes in a few times a year. They're limited in quantity and for the most part priced from slightly above average to prices that would cover the cost of an economy car for a family of four.

Our hotel was a Sleep Inn, and it's the first time I have stayed in one of that chain. The rooms were typical of a basic room, with furniture that could use a bit of updating. Overall though, they were pretty spacious and had a vast expanse of desk space so it was easy to drop off the stuff we'd collect over the trip and leave it for organizing and attempting to cram into the car at the last minute.

My first morning in the hotel, I fumbled into the bathroom, half-awake. I crinkled my nose and coughed at overpowering smell of cigarette smoke. I know my husband pretty well and I felt pretty safe assuming that he hadn't slipped into the bathroom for a quick few puffs (he definitely does not smoke.) The front desk attendant explained to me that the hotel has an air system that circulates the air throughout the entire hotel on a set cycle. It was the "entire hotel" part that posed the problem; ten rooms on the top floor were smoking rooms, and despite our room being on the bottom floor, it still permeated the bathroom as though an employee took their smoke break in there. Supposedly I should have been thankful that our room wasn't above the pool, the chlorine smell was considerably potent in the 2nd floor rooms. Either way, I think its pretty inexcusable with a modern hotel and should be on the hotel owner's priority list of problem areas to fix post haste. Beyond this faux paux, the hotel had an adequate continental breakfast and an extraordinarily friendly staff that rivaled southern hotels in hospitality with their sincere willingness to help.

Next stop we're off to the races and I'll elaborate on my attempts to "OC" or over-cheese at dinner every night.

More BBQ

Vegetarians be aware that this post is all about the meat. Proceed forward at your own risk of giving in to the power of the 'que.

I don't think I ever tire of trying yet another round of BBQ. I should, especially according to all the critics of the meat-eaters among us, but I always go back for more.
This evening I sampled the pulled pork and smoked sausage at Bandana's Bar-B-Q in Collinsville, Illinois. The pork had what I call the "right" flavor for bbq, that smoky goodness that enhances the flavor of the meat without overpowering it. In my rule book for achieving smoked meat nirvana, when the meat is cooked correctly the sauce is merely an additional flavor, rather than what acutally gives the meat flavor.

As for the smoked sausage, it too had the right flavor. However I think that the chef failed to recognize that fat renders differently in different cuts of meat. I found the smoked sausage a little too fatty for my taste, but the pork clearly had just enough fat to protect it from drying out when cooked. Then again, I am a bit of a tough customer.

Side items of fried corn on the cob, fries, green beans and some of the best garlic bread I've had in a while rounded out the meal. The garlic bread was buttery enough that I know I'll be breaking out the running shoes the day I get home, yet not so heavy on the garlic that the next morning's cereal will taste like a bowl full of garlic. It's not an easy balance to achieve, but pull it off nicely.

The atmosphere is pretty simple and laid back. Meals are served on melamine dishes with metal pans direct from the restaurant supply style underneath serving as a fancy charger with a simplistic twist. Even the salads arrive in a metal mixing bowl. Quirky, but practical too.

The most notable thing however was a kind gesture made by the waitress. My husband ordered the smoked sausage and after dinner it looked like he'd moved it around on his plate. (He too wasn't all that impressed with the sausage part.) The waitress asked if he didn't like it, and when he explained it wasn't really all that great, she offered to replace it with something else. He declined. A few minutes later she brought the check to the table and had not charged us for his meal. He offered to pay for it, but she insisted that it was the right thing to do. I have to admire any small business that gives its employees the leeway to make such a gesture, even if it wasn't truly necessary. The fact she did that left an impression on me, enough to make it worthy of mentioning here. So if you're in the Collinsville, Illinois area and looking for some BBQ, stop in at Bandana's, although I'd probably skip the smoked sausage.

The Planning & The Packing

For every trip there's at least some level of planning and preparing involved. Even for those last minute "let's go there, we leave tomorrow" type of trips, it's vital that we leave home with at least a base level of our own stuff. It's the determining of what stuff simply must be toted along for the ride and what isn't really necessary.

That last part is a challenge for certain friends of mine that for my safety shall remain nameless. (You know who you are, Mr. Ten-Bags-for-a-Weekend-Getaway.) Defining what is "necessary" can be relationship-testing to say the least. Does your significant other need to take six pairs of shoes for a three day outing? Is that entire bag of electronics really necessary? In most instances making it a road trip solves that problem, there's room to take the shoes and the electronics. However when that road trip is made in a 2-seater convertible, space comes more at a premium. Make it a week on a motorcycle with two saddle bags and two people and it's a harsh lesson in what really are the true necessities. I've made enough of the motorcycle and convertible road trips to have gone from being the traveling fashionista taking along her extensive wardrobe to making sure that I've at least got my toothbrush and enough clean underwear. It's a challenging and somewhat humbling experience to fit a week's worth of essentials into a space scarely larger than a bowling ball.

Before even the first packing begins, which I always wait until the day of the trip to do, there's the planning. I've noticed how some people feel compelled to plan their trips out in painstaking detail. Ask where they'll be at 12:25 pm on Wednesday and they can tell you. They might even tell you what they'll be eating, and how much should be left on their plate at that precise point in time. Of course there's flip side, the anti-planner. That's the one who thinks "drive east" is too specific. They get up one day, call in well to work ("Well, I'm not coming in today") and leave town. If they happen to remember their toothbrush, it's only by sheer luck or that it was conveniently located in their mouth at the time of the decision to leave.

I enjoy a balance somewhere in-between the madness of it all, with a reasonable level of packing essentials and what I deem as not over-planning. Thankfully I married a man who is the same way.

After a few years of being quizzed by acquaintances, I've developed a little of my own form of torment for those planners with the packing question. We have a little conversation that goes something like this:
Them: "Are you all packed and ready to go?"
Me: "Nope. I'll pack the day we leave."
Them: Horrified Silence.

Yes it's a little bit of torture for the uber-planner who has their entire trip itinerary in a spreadsheet, printed and laminated for easy distribution. To those folks, I pose this question: what happens when I find some interesting place in a brochure at a hotel, or hear something from another passing traveler? Some of the most fascinating stops along my travels have been because we saw some random sign about a Natural Bridge in the middle of nowhere Alabama. Or a water tower painted and shaped to look just like a peach in South Carolina, but if you see it at the right angle, it looks like more of an orange full moon, if you get my meaning. It's those random sort of things aren't always "itinerary quality" stops but they definitely make for a more memorable trip. Without that willingness to just let life and the road take the lead sometimes, I'd have a long list of fun memories I'd have missed.

Bottom line, there are times where planning isn't just a good idea but necessity; other times it's great to hop in the car and just go.

A Restaurant Down Memory Lane

To paraphrase a comment from James May, car enthusiast and presenter on Top Gear (BBC), "Never drive the car of your childhood dreams."

This applies to food as well, as my husband and I found out this evening. Periodically throughout our marriage, I've heard my husband wax poetic about Almond Chicken from a local restaurant. Over the years I've attempted to make the dish a few times, but none so far have been the dish he recalled, or even come close. So after tossing the idea around a few times, we finally decided tonight we'd try that restaurant for dinner and see if I could get a better idea of what this dish really entailed.

Bad idea. I think I can borrow Mr. May's comment and take it one step further. My revised version is as follows: Never return to the restaurant you idolized during your childhood. It will NOT live up to the memory.

Our first hint to turn and run should have been that the sign now included "buffet." When the parking lot on a Friday night seemed to be sparsely populated, that should have been the second giant red flag waving us and our car into a different direction. Then the food... cold, salty and so loaded with MSG, it wasn't what I'd call pleasant. I've had worse experiences, but this was up pretty high on the list of bad food.

It wasn't as bad as that infamous burger in Maui. That truly was horrific, I don't think there are words to describe it. I can't recall the name of the place, but after a long ride motorcycle ride around the quite literally breathtaking Honoapiilani and Kahekili Highways from Kapalua, my husband and I were tired and ready for a place to relax and chow down. As is our usual traveling style, we were trying to go with a local restaurant, so we found one and stopped in for a sandwich. What we got were two of the most awful, grease drenched burgers I've ever had anywhere. We actually both took one gut-wrenching bite, paid for the "food" and left the restaurant. To this day I can recall how truly bad that inedible item on the plate was, described mysteriously as a burger. There are meals I like to remember and even reminisce, and then there's that experience that I won't ever be able to forget.

Take my word for it about the childhood thing though. Keep the memory untarnished. Let it remain happy there in your mind and history. In my case, I'm just thankful that Mexican restaurant I used to adore back in high school is long since gone, but not forgotten.

The Food Rules

After a couple of surprisingly good recent meals I'm feeling forced to reconsider my food rules. I know I'm not the only one who has them. They're the basis from which I determine what to order where and when. They do require a little basic food knowledge, like that strawberries ordered in November will not be fresh or at least not flavorful. Here's a few of my own food rules:

1. Seafood should not be consumed more than an easy day's drive inland.
2. Don't order dishes featuring out-of-season fruit.
3. BBQ is only done right from about as far north as Kentucky.
4. Do not order fried catfish in a northern state. Ever.
5. Only in the south do they know how to make sweet tea correctly.

Let's take these in order. With modern shipping services providing delivery so fast that the shrimp could just say "beam me up Scotty" and arrive from the boat to the restaurant kitchen instantaneously, I'm willing to let this rule slide a bit. However I do limit this to places I know can actually get their seafood fresh. The big tip-off? The prices usually reflect the added cost of that sci-fi speed delivery.

I'm really not sure I want to change my out-of-season fruit rule. Strawberries out of season or those big beauties they try to pawn off at the local grocery store as "fresh berries" look pretty. That's where the goodness ends. They have a complete lack of any discernible flavor. Visual is important with food, don't get me wrong, but flavor is pretty essential too.

With my recent experiences, I think I'm strongly reconsidering my BBQ rule. I've had some mediocre BBQ in the south and some good things coming from our northern friends. I have to conceed, this rule has finally become obsolete, thankfully so!

The catfish rule.... that's a tough one. I have stuck to this one thanks to a wonderful great uncle of mine who used to come visit at least once a year from Michigan and would always want to eat fried catfish at least once. He assured us that the folks from his current home state did not know how to cook catfish, and that breading with cornmeal was a lost concept there. I can't say I've traveled in Michigan or even in northern states enough as of late to really test this out, so I'm for now I'll trust what he said.

A friend recently returned from an Alaskan cruise and she remarked how one thing she really missed was sweet tea. I can undoubtedly relate. After travels across the states, my rule of "Sweet Tea only in the South" still holds true. What is labeled as sweet tea in the south is really a concoction resembling simple syrup with a twist of tea. It's not just sweetened, it's truly sweet. It's probably not the healthiest beverage but it is often the beverage of choice in the south and getting outside of that area of the US is done at the tea drinker's risk.

One final rule I didn't list earlier that I simply cannot and will not ever let slide is the restroom rule. If the restaurant cannot be bothered to keep the restrooms at least clean at some basic level, that's simply inexcusable. I'm not asking for marble counters and floors that are spotlessly shined hourly; I humbly ask that the toilets, floor and sinks are clean. I prefer adequate amounts of toilet paper, soap and some mechanism for drying my hands (paper towels are preferred but dryers are acceptable. Bash away at me for killing precious trees, but I don't like having the cootie-filled air of a public restroom forcefully blown onto my now cootie-free hands.) These basic things don't take much to maintain and as I recall reading once, if the restaurant can't be bothered to keep the basics done in their restrooms, what level of cleanliness can you expect from the kitchen, or any area of the restaurant for that matter?

I have a few more guidelines when dining out, but these touch on the areas dealing with the seasonality and location of the food, which I have been reconsidering as of late. The global economy introduces tastes of one region into another and restaurants are embracing this trend. My own tastes over the years have gone from frustratingly finicky to somewhere approaching a willingness to try anything that can't bite back. That attitude change has led me to eating rattlesnake a few years back and just last week topping a french fry with a dollop of pimento cheese (it's actually good.) Most important, I've come to even break the rules, as sometimes those lines do have to be tested. Otherwise I never know what culinary goodness I might be missing!