Our trip out West did not feature the usual epicurean adventures that we cherish whenever we are on vacation. Instead this trip was one of a timed determination to get Colin to his new home as quickly and efficiently as possible., and then to return in time for Gerry to get back to work. Most of the food we ate ( as I had guessed) was taken as a quick scoff at the all too familiar logos that loomed from the Interstate and were printed on signs prior to the exits that featured small towns. I'm a big fan of breakfast and luckily most of the motels we stayed at featured some kind of breakfast... mostly continental. I did have a disappointed stab at biscuits and gravy at an Econolodge, which tasted mostly like cold cardboard and glue (I thought there was supposed to be sausage in the gravy?) On a few occasions, breakfast was a packaged bear claw or other sweet confection and a large coffee purchased at the convenience stores that lead us west. I got a little more excited at lunchtime when we stopped at Subway or Quiznos, only because I was able to have a salad which seemed a bit healthier than greasy fast food. By dinnertime, we were often so hungry and tired from sitting all day that it didn't matter what we ate. McDonalds or Wendys seemed to be the logical choices along a stretch of road that wasn't geared for vacationers, but rather folks just passing through as quickly as possible. There was a lunch at a Stuckey's which featured popcorn chicken and fries and mostly I drank Mountain Dew soda to keep myself alert in the face of the hours of driving we all had to share. But once we got to San Diego, we did have a nice meal at a Spanish restaurant with tapas, and a nice big platter of paella... just fabulous. We walked to the restaurant which was about a mile from Colin's apartment and the walking did a lot to stimulate our appetites. It was also great to finally have some cold imported beer with dinner, as that is not something you do when your're on the road. When the waiter offered us dessert, Gerry made the sweetest compliment to me in decline... it made me blush. That comment will be savored forever! The next night after visiting the beach, we had a dinner at a pub where we sat outside on a porch to enjoy the sights and sounds of San Diego at night. I ordered a steak, baked potato, and a caesar salad, and after all those days trying to be creative with the fast food options, it tasted like heaven. But my favorite places to eat resided on old Route 66, as we made our way back home. First, their was a little rib joint about an hour from the Grand Canyon. I think Buffalo Pointe was the name. We had the best (and only) smoked beef ribs I ever had. My jaw dropped when this Fred Flintstone hunk of ribs was brought to the table. I only ordered three and thought it would be a ladylike portion... who knew cows were so big? I sucked all but one bone clean. It was served with kidney beans in a fine broth with peppers and onion and was just delicious. The coleslaw was tart with just a hint of sweetness and not too much mayonnaise... perfect, cause I am real fussy when it comes to mayo based salads. There was even two guys playing some fine bluesy music with a guitar and drum at the entrance... dinner and a show. It started to feel like vacation. We also had a breakfast at the Route 66 diner in Santa Rosa, NM and it did not disappoint. The place looked like it hadn't changed much from the 50's, with lots of decorations and memorabilia, but it was charming and clean, the service was quick and courteous, and everything was cooked to perfection. Gerry said it was the best omelette he ever had, and I was so satiated I did not dispute the claim. I can't wait to go back on the road, to drive along the full stretch of Route 66 and sample all the local cooking. We had just a small taste and there is plenty more road to cover there.
