Road Tips

Cajun Connection - Utica, IL

Once again, I haven't been able to travel or dine-in at restaurants for over two months thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic that continues to wreak havoc across the country.  Because of that, no new Road Tips entries have shown up for the past few weeks.  But in order to keep things going, I decided to dip into the nearly 15 years of Road Tips archives to take a look back at some of the more memorable experiences I've come across in my travels.  

Today's story is about a Louisiana native and his authentic Cajun restaurant located halfway between the Quad Cities and the south Chicago suburbs outside of Utica, IL.  The food is excellent, the atmosphere was cozy, yet fun, and the owner - well, he's worth the trip alone.  As the first line says, it was a fun visit.  Here's the Road Tips entry from 8 years ago on Ron's Cajun Connection.

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This is gonna be a fun one...

Outside of the small north central Illinois town of Utica, IL is an authentic Cajun restaurant  - the Cajun Connection.  It's just off Interstate 80 south of the Utica exit (Exit 81) at the crossroads of Illinois Highway 178 and US Highway 6 known as "the Four Corners" by the locals.  (see map)  Actually, this was the original location when they first opened over 24 years ago.  After outgrowing that location, they moved into a converted farm house about a mile east of this location in 2001.  However, in researching the Cajun Connection for this look-back, I found that they had moved back to their original spot in June of last year.  

Actually, we had been to the Cajun Connection once before, a number of years ago.  About 13 years ago (over 20 years ago now), a co-worker of my wife had told her that we needed to make the 95-mile drive from our house to go try the Cajun Connection.  We did and came away not too enamored with the place.  They didn't have much as far as Cajun food other than a lot of fried shrimp, alligator, chicken strips and other items.  It never crossed my mind to try the place again until I was driving across Illinois one rainy fall evening and I was getting hungry.  I thought about stopping into Duffy's Tavern in Utica to get one of their good burgers.  But when I got off the Interstate at Utica, I remembered the Cajun Connection.  I found the place on my GPS took a left at US Highway 6 off of  instead of going straight into Utica.

The man behind the Cajun Connection is Lake Charles, LA native Ron McFarlain.  McFarlain started out as a pipefitter and traveled around the nation with his crew.  While out on the road, Ron - who learned how to cook from his mother and grandmother - would work up some of his Cajun specialties for his workmates. Wanting to get off the road and settle down, he ended up in - of all places - LaSalle County in north central Illinois in the mid-90's.  Seeing that there wasn't a Cajun restaurant for 100 miles in either direction between the Quad Cities and Chicago, Ron opened the Cajun Connection in November of 1995. 

At right - Ron McFarlain holding an alligator tail in the kitchen at Cajun Connection.

Ron McFarlain takes trips back to Louisiana to get Cajun staples such as fresh crawfish, alligator and shrimp.  The Cajun Connection is famous for their annual crawfish boil and for their blackened alligator bites.  

McFarlain is sort of a character known to many people in the area.  In fact, many of the locals and regulars just refer to the Cajun Connection as "Ron's" and McFarlian as "Cajun Ron".  McFarlain is always interacting with his customers - whether they're regulars or first-timers.  It's his down-home Cajun-friendly style that makes him an immediately likable guy. 

It was around 7:30 when I pulled into the parking lot at Cajun Connection.  I was sort of confused because I didn't quite remember this building as the one we were at years ago and when I went in, I was even more confused.  I didn't remember one thing about this place.  It turns out that I hadn't been in THIS incarnation of Cajun Connection.  When McFarlain opened the Cajun Connection in 1995, it was housed in a small building at the corner of Illinois Route 178 and U.S. Highway 6.  In 2001, he moved down the highway to the east to what was the former Lone Street Inn, a former bar, and before that, a gas station.  It gave him more room in his kitchen and more seats for his diners.  And because he had more room in his kitchen, it allowed him to expand his menu with more Cajun-inspired fare.  

The manager of the Cajun Connection, Amy Martin (who is now Cajun Ron's wife) greeted me as I walked in and took me over to a table in the corner of the front room of the restaurant.  Another waitress came over and asked if I wanted anything to drink.  Being a true Cajun restaurant, I saw that they had Abita beer from Louisiana.  When I asked which styles of Abita they had, she pulled out a list and it turned out they had about four or five different varieties.  I ordered up an Abita Golden, a beer I hadn't had in a long time.

The Cajun Connection has three dining rooms, all of them not too big.  There are a combination of booths and tables throughout the place - some booths offering bench seats and chairs.  A number of Cajun signs and witticisms were splayed upon the walls.  A juke box near the cash register had a number of Cajun tunes on it, but the background music playing that evening was - interestingly enough - 70's classic rock.  

The menu at Cajun Connection is much larger than the last time we were there.  The first time we went to Cajun Connection they didn't have jambalaya or gumbo on the menu.  This time, they had a plethora of Cajun foods to choose from, as well as blackened steaks, pork chops (the special that night), and chicken tenders.  

My head was spinning from the selections on them menu.  Po-boy sandwiches, blackened shrimp, alligator scampi, crawfish etoufee - I couldn't make up my mind.  Something called Jamba-2-Fay - shrimp or crawfish etoufee served over jambalaya and paired with either fried alligator or grilled shrimp - got my attention.  As did the blackened ribeye steak served with jambalaya.  The great thing about my first visit to Cajun Connection in years is that they have a "make-your-own" combination platter.  You can choose between 2, 3 or 4 items such as shrimp creole, crawfish etoufee, boudin sausage links, catfish, oysters or another nearly dozen items for your combo entree.  I wanted to do that, so I ordered up the jambalaya, red beans and rice, and the "bubba" shrimp, blackened.  I also got a cup of the gumbo.

The waitress brought out the gumbo with a small basket of fresh French bread slices and crackers.  From the first taste I wished I would have upped it to a bowl.  It was just fabulous gumbo.  It wasn't spicy in the least, but there were nice smoked boudin sausage slices, shredded chicken and pork chunks in the somewhat thick roux broth.  I spiced it up with some hot sauces that were on the table to give it a little kick.  It was some of the best gumbo I'd had in a restaurant.  And it also reminded me that it was time to make some of my own gumbo at home.  

While I was enjoying my gumbo, Ron McFarlain came out to the dining room to hob-nob with the patrons.  Three guys who were seated at a table next to me caught a ration of good-natured shit from him.  "Boys, boys, boys," Ron yelled in his Cajun drawl.  "I know y'all haven't been here before, so let me tell you our rules.  You order, you eat, you pay, you get the hell out!  What the heck y'all doin' on your cellphones?  Eat up!"

He came over to me and asked, "How's the gumbo, big guy?"

"Killer," I replied.  "I could eat this all night."

He fist bumped me and said, "That's good to hear!"   

Almost as soon as I finished up my gumbo, the waitress brought out my combo plate.  Left to right across the plate was the red beans and rice, the jambalaya and the blackened "bubba" shrimp that featured three large shrimps on a skewer on a bed of white rice.   A small container of Cajun Connection's "voodoo sauce" sat on the side.  It had worcestershire sauce, butter and mild Cajun spices in it.  

I tried the jambalaya first and I have to say that I wasn't too impressed with it.  It was sort of bland.  Even with copious amounts of Tabasco and some of Cajun Connection's "Hot Damn!" seasoning, it didn't liven it up.  It did have some nice smoky tasting slices of boudin sausage, though.  

Going on to the red beans and rice, well, they more than made up for the disappointment of the jambalaya.  With more smoked boudin sausage with the beans and rice, there was a nice sort of sweet taste to the combination.  I immediately liked the taste of the red beans and rice.  It was much better than the jambalaya.  

But the best thing on the plate was the blackened "bubba" shrimp.  It was covered with a generous amount of homemade Cajun seasonings.  Even without dipping them into the voodoo sauce, the taste was just excellent.  And I took some of the leftover voodoo sauce and poured it over the white rice and it was just fabulous.  Even with the bland jambalaya, it was a very good meal. 

My waitress came over and asked if I wanted any dessert.  "Key lime pie?  Pecan pie?  Bread pudding," she kept asking me.  It all sounded good, but I was stuffed.  Then she said, "We have pumpkin bread pudding."  Oh man!  I about pulled the trigger on that.  I just asked for my check.

I told you this entry was going to be fun and this is where it happened.  

I was looking at an article in a frame on the wall of the dining room I was in and Ron McFarlain came over to me and said, "You've never been in here before, buddy?"   He introduced himself and I did the same back. 

"Well, actually, I was here a long time ago," I replied.  "But I don't remember it being like this.  How long have you been here?"  

"11 years," he said.  "But we've been in business since 1995.  We were in a small building down on the corner."  

"Aha," I exclaimed.  "That's why I don't remember this building.  We were in the old place."  

I then said, "I seem to remember that you only had fried food."

Ron said, "Yeah, when we first opened up we didn't think the people around here would like the gumbo or jambalaya.  We kept it simple.  But we started to do other things and when we moved over here we started to do more things.  We just added some more things to the menu." 

He asked me what I had and I told him.  He said, "How'd ya like the jambalaya?"

I said, "Quite honestly, I found it to be kind of bland."  

Ron said, "Well, we make it that way.  A lot of real Cajun restaurants down in Louisiana (except with his noted Cajun drawl, it came out as "Looz-ee-anna") don't make their food all that spicy.  I'm all about the taste of the ingredients, the smoked sausage and the cooked-in flavor."

While he was talking, I got out my phone to take a picture of the dining area.  He said, "Well, shoot, buddy.  You want some pictures.  C'mon back here with me."  He guided me back toward the kitchen area.  Before we went into the kitchen he asked me my name as he introduced me to Amy.  He asked, "You ever have bread pudding before?"

I said, "Oh, I sure have."  

He said, "No, you haven't."  I sort of looked askance at him.

Then Ron asked, "Have you ever had key lime pie before?"

I said, "Oh, yeah."

Ron replied, "No, you haven't.  You haven't because you haven't had our bread pudding or key lime pie.  Amy makes the bread pudding and key lime pie, I make the pecan pie.  It's the best, son." 

We went back into the kitchen and I was amazed to find six young guys back there all doing different things.  There were two line cooks, a couple of prep cooks, and one guy who was cooking up a big pan of chopped pork for the gumbo.  I had never thought of using chopped pork for my gumbo.  Ron said, "Looky here.  He's simmerin' the pork with liquid smoke and our homemade spices."  He pulled a couple pieces of the pork out of the pan (he had cooks gloves on) and handed me one.  The spices got my attention.  

"I thought you said you don't cook anything spicy," I said to him after eating the chunk of pork.

He said, "The spices cook down during the simmering process and when we finally put it in with the gumbo."  

I asked him how often he makes gumbo and he took me back around the corner to a round cooker on a counter top.  He said, "We made this yesterday and just let it simmer until we need to make more."  He opened the lid and said, "We'll need to make more tomorrow."  The cooker basin was about a 1/3 full.  

Ron said, "Hold on a second."  Every sentence he ended it with my name.  It was kind of a funny, yet folksy Southern thing.  He went back into the cooler and he came out with this humongous alligator tail.  It's the same one that is in the picture of Ron earlier in this entry.  I said, "How do you get alligator all the way up here?"

He said, "It ain't easy.  I've been goin' down for years and gettin' it from the guys on the docks.  But they've been a little more protective of their alligator meat down there.  So, it's costin' me a little more and with the price of gas to get down there and back..."  He sort of hesitated and said, "Yeah, it's tough."  

He asked, "Did you try the alligator?"

I told him, "Not this time.  I had the fried alligator on my first trip years ago, but it tasted like chicken."  

Ron gave me a stern look and said, "My fried alligator doesn't taste like chicken.  It's better than chicken."  I told him that the next time I wanted to try some of the blackened alligator.  I told him, "If it's anything like the "bubba" shrimp, it's got to be fantastic."

I asked him what seasoning he uses and he should me a pan of mixed Cajun spices.  He held it up for me to smell and it was all I could do to stop from licking my finger and sticking it in the mixture.  It smelled like Cajun heaven.  

He said, "You didn't have the pork chop special tonight, did you?  Shame on you."  He showed me the pork chops they were using for the special that evening.  "We cut 'em thin so they'll cook quick.  We roll 'em in the spices and grill 'em up.  Hoo boy!"  

Ron was like a little kid showing off all the toys he got at Christmas time.  "Hey, come on back here."  He led me back to the cooler and started to root around on the shelves.  He pulled out a pan of sausages and he said, "We smoke our own sausage here."

I asked him where his smoker was and he said, "Oh, we just smoke 'em in the oven.  You can do that, you know."  Actually, no. I guess I didn't.  He took a sausage link and broke it in half to show me the texture of the sausage.  When I asked him about andouille sausage he said, "We found that's too spicy for most people around here.  We do the boudin sausage with a more mellow and smoky flavor."

I asked him if that was why his jambalaya was sort of bland and he said, "You must like spicy foods.  Yeah, that's one of the reasons why.  But I like the flavor of the ingredients and not the hot taste."  Just like he said before.

When I told him that I really like his red beans and rice, he asked, "What did you like about them?"  I told him I liked the sweetness.  "Oh, man, we didn't make 'em right."  I was sort of taken aback by that as I thought they were outstanding.  "We do sweeten 'em up, but they need to cook long enough to get the sweetness out."  I told him I thought they were damn fine, as is.  

I must have spent about 20 minutes back in the kitchen area with Ron as I picked his brain about Cajun food, his techniques, some of his specialties and what has worked and not worked in his restaurant.  Now, he didn't know me from Adam.  I could have been a spy for another restaurant, I could have been a health inspector, I could have been anybody looking for free samples.  But I got to thinking afterward that I'm guessing he's done that before with a number of people.  

The Cajun Connection's hours are kind of funky - they're open 4-9 on Thursday thru Saturday, and 12-6 on Sundays.  Ron told me that they'll open at noon on Saturdays in the summertime.  I noticed that they had a little patio off to the side and I asked him if they do outdoor dining.  He said, "Naw, that's more of an overflow area for us in the summer months.  It can get pretty busy in the summer, but slacks off pretty good in the winter months.  You think we're crowded in the kitchen now, you should see how many people we got hoppin' back there in the summer."  

Like I said, this was a fun visit.  The food was great, Ron was a wonderful host and I have to get back to try other things on the menu.  I wonder if my wife would be up for a Sunday afternoon trip to Cajun Connection at some point?  Like Ron told me, "Just call ahead and see if we're here!"  (Photo courtesy the Ottawa Times.)

Osetra (The Fishhouse) - San Diego

My wife and I just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary and, of course, due to the COVID-19 pandemic we weren't able to celebrate the way we wanted.  We had planned on a trip back to California - quite possibly to the San Diego area where we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary five years ago.  But when it became more and more evident that our vacation plans would be eclipsed by the coronavirus, we pretty much canceled our anniversary trip.  Still, being together for 25 years of a marital partnership is something I can say I'm proud to have accomplished.  And I'm hoping for many more.    

And with the pandemic, I haven't been traveling or eating in restaurants that I can write about on Road Tips, so I've been digging into nearly 15 years of archived blog posts to find some of the more memorable restaurant visits I've experienced.  As my wife is part of many of my exploits when we find new and interesting places to eat, I wanted to have her be part of a look-back at the wonderful and very unforgettable meal we had in San Diego on the night of our 20th wedding anniversary at Osetra - the Fishhouse.  

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My wife and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary in mid-May when we went out to San Diego for our first ever visit there.  We knew we wanted to do something nice for a meal that evening, even asking the concierge at the hotel we were staying to give us suggestions.  He gave us a couple three ideas, but during a walk around the historic Gaslamp Quarter in downtown San Diego later that day, we came upon a restaurant that had its menu posted outside - Osetra.  It was a combination Italian seafood/steakhouse/sushi restaurant with some pasta dishes, as well.  We talked with a young lady who was standing out front about the restaurant and immediately made reservations for two later on for 7:30 p.m.  

Since the summer of 2006, Osetra (named after one of the most sought after caviars in the world) has been serving patrons in their chic and contemporary setting at the corner of E Street and 5th Ave. in downtown San Diego.  (see map)  Restauranteur Alex Minutella and his partners were one of the first groups to open upscale restaurants in the Gaslamp Quarter, restaurants that included Osteria Panevino and Greystone Steakhouse.  The group moved on to Las Vegas to open more restaurants including one of my favorites - Panevino (click here to see my entry on Panevino).  

The young man who Minutella and his partners put in charge of the kitchen at Panevino in Las Vegas was Alberto Morreale, a native of Sicily who moved to Northern Italy to study culinary arts in Milan.  Moving to the U.S. in 1995, he started as the sous chef at the Panevino in San Diego, as well as overseeing the kitchen staff at the former Trattoria Portobello restaurant in San Diego before moving to Las Vegas to open that Panavino location.  

When the group sold their Las Vegas interests, Morreale moved back to San Diego to become the head chef at Osetra.  He eventually became the General Manager and co-owner of Osetra, as well as becoming involved in other restaurants such as the Fig Tree Cafe in the greater San Diego area.    

One of the things that Minutella and Morealle brought back with them from Las Vegas was the flair of theatrics - the concept of Wine Angels from Aureole at Mandalay Bay.  These "angels" literally fly (via a wire harness) up to the top of a three-story "wine tower" storage unit in the center of the E-5 Lounge on the main floor of Osetra.  We didn't see any wine angels flying at Osetra the night we were there.  

We went back to the hotel to freshen up and change into something a little nicer than shorts for dinner and got to Osetra just before 7:30.  We were greeted by a hostess who took us through the chic and contemporary lounge area and up a long set of stairs to the second floor of the restaurant.  As we were going up the stairs, the hostess asked us if there was any special occasion as to why were dining with them that evening.  We told her it was our 20th wedding anniversary and she said, "Oh, that's great!  Congratulations!"  And that was that, or so we thought. 

We were seated at a table next to a large window that looked out onto the Gaslamp Quarter.  (The window tables on the second floor, I found out later, are prime real estate for patrons of Osetra.)  Not long after dropping off menus for us, our server for the evening - a pleasant middle-aged man by the name of Andrea who had a thick Bronx accent - came over to greet us.  He explained a few things about the menu and said he'd come back to let us know about the specials that evening in a bit.  

I was looking through the wine list and I had to say that they were pretty proud - price-wise - of the bottles of wine they served at Osetra.  We had decided on getting a dry white wine since we were leaning toward going with seafood.  I ordered up a bottle of the Ferrari Carano Fume Blanc which was still rather overpriced (in my opinion), but better than some of the prices of other Fume Blanc wines they had.  (Someone's gotta pay for those wine angels.)  

And they're pretty proud of their entrees at Osetra - price-wise - as well.  When they opened nine years ago, they were billed as the most expensive restaurant in San Diego.  I don't know if that is still the case, but their prices were making a strong case that if it still wasn't the most expensive restaurant in San Diego, it was damned close.  An 8 ounce filet steak was $46 bucks.  A bowl of cioppino was $38 dollars.  An order of jumbo sea scallops clocked in at a cool $40 bucks.  I would have hated to find out the market price of the Alaskan king crab legs or the live Maine lobster they featured on the menu.  But, hey!  It was our 20th anniversary so we were going to live it up for the night.  

I pretty much knew what I was going to get even before Andrea tried to tempt with a seafood and a pasta special that evening.  I ended up getting the blackened ahi tuna for my main entree.  My wife ended up ordering the sea bass on risotto.  But before we got our entrees, we had a couple of things as a warm up for our meals.  

My wife ordered a bowl of Osetra's lobster bisque.  The rich butter and cream broth had a hint of a spiciness to it thanks to the paprika with chunks of lobster coming up with every spoonful.  For a garnish in the center of the bisque was a dollop of Tabiko caviar with some sour cream.  After she made a significant dent in the bisque, I had a couple bites and it was some of the best lobster bisque I've tasted.  But it was very filling and my wife was worried that if she ate the whole bowl, she wouldn't be hungry for her sea bass entree.  

I got the wedge salad topped with crumbled Maytag blue cheese dressing.  Of course, I had to tell Andrea that I grew up in the town where Maytag blue cheese is made and that the process of making the cheese smells ungodly.   He wanted to know if it was the same people that made the washing machines.  "Same family, not the same company," I told him.  The salad wasn't large, but that was fine.  There were copious amounts of the crumbled Maytag blue cheese on the salad with fresh chunks of tomato and real bacon bits. It was a nice start to the meal.

Our entrees came out and my wife was amazed at the size of the chunk of sea bass lying on the risotto on her plate.  The sea bass was covered with fennel and came with a side of grilled asparagus.  The risotto was drenched in a pomegranate reduction sauce.  The sea bass broke off into large flakey chunks and she declared it to be absolutely delicious.  

My ahi tuna was grilled rare and was also a large chunk of fresh fish.  A ginger soy sauce reduction was drizzled along the outer edges of the plate.  This looked excellent.  

For a side, I got the wild roasted mushrooms mixed with truffle oil.  I like mushrooms a lot - my wife has detested mushrooms for years but has gotten to a point where she tolerates them, especially if they're fresh and not canned mushrooms.  (She actually does like the morel mushrooms that grow in the Midwest each spring.)  These mushrooms were thick cut and very tasty in the rich truffle oil sauce.  Even my wife liked them.  

There was a problem with my ahi tuna, however.  I had the impression that the tuna was going to have a blackened crust outer shell - at least that's what I was led to believe from the description in the menu.  Earlier, I'd heard a lady at a table near us say to her server that she didn't think there was any blackening on her fish that she'd ordered.  I began to sort of think the same way with my ahi tuna.  

I had taken a couple three bites of the tuna and was sort of turning it around with my fork and knife.  My wife asked what was wrong and I told her that I couldn't detect any blackening seasonings on the tuna, either by sight or by taste.  I sort of shrugged my shoulders and kept eating the chunk of fish because it was still very good and very fresh.  When Andrea came over to check on us, I told him that I thought the chef had forgotten to put blackening seasoning on my tuna.  "Not that it's a deal breaker," I said. "This is still an excellent piece of fish."  

Andrea said, "That's strange.  I'll have to go check with the chef on that."  (I didn't want to tell him that I overheard a lady a couple tables over say the same thing.)  

Now, I don't know exactly where the kitchen was in the restaurant, but I could hear Andrea and the chef directly below us over the railing talking about my ahi tuna.  "I swear I put the seasoning on it," said a voice I assumed belonged to the chef.  "This is the second person who says they didn't get any seasoning on theirs tonight."  I just sort of chuckled when I heard that.  Obviously there was a difference of opinion between the chef and his customers as to what constituted blackening seasoning. 

Andrea came back to report and I didn't want to say, "Yeah, I heard."  He said that the chef swore there was blackening seasoning on the ahi tuna.  I said, "Look, that's fine.  Like I said, this isn't a deal breaker.  The tuna (I'd finished it by now) was excellent.  I can't get a cut of tuna like this that is this fresh and tasty back home in the Midwest."  

My wife was having trouble finishing her sea bass.  "My god, this is a lot of fish," she exclaimed as she sat her fork down with a small bit of the fish left on top of the bed of risotto.  "I haven't hardly had any of the risotto or the asparagus because I've been concentrating on finishing the sea bass."

We'd both thrown in the towel - I couldn't even finish half the mushrooms even with my wife taking a couple of bites.  The wasabi mashed potatoes didn't quite have the forward wasabi taste that I thought they should have, but that didn't quite matter.  I was more interested in the ahi tuna and the wild roasted mushrooms.  

After Andrea cleared the tables and we were finishing up the last of the bottle of wine, a younger lady came to our table and identified herself as the manager.  She said, "I understand that your meal was not to your liking..."  

I cut her off and said, "Oh, god, no.  It was fabulous.  I was just under the impression that a crust of blackened seasoning was just that.  Like I told Andrea, it was far from a deal breaker."  

The hostess who sat us obviously told her that we were there for our anniversary and the manager said, "Well, I understand that it's your 20th wedding anniversary.  Congratulations!  We'd like to make it up to you for not only your dinner but because of your special day."  She proposed free desserts for us and we just sort of groaned.  We were both so full from our meals that we couldn't possibly eat any more.  

Then the manager started to go through the list of desserts that she had.  When she said that she had creme brûlée I sort of jumped.  "You like creme brûlée, I take it," she said to me.  I said that I did, but there was no way that I could eat creme brûlée in the state of overeating discomfort that I was in.  Then she mentioned they had tiramisu and my wife's automatic question at any restaurant where they serve tiramisu - is it homemade tiramisu?  "Yes, it is," the manager replied.  "We make it fresh here every day."  I sort of shook my head knowing this would be a big mistake.  The manager said, "Let me get you a piece of our tiramisu to try, on the house."  

Well, when Andrea came out he not only had a piece of the tiramisu with a small candle sticking out of the middle of it, but he also had a bowl of the creme brûlée.  He said, "We decided to give you both.  Congratulations on your anniversary.  Enjoy!"  

The tiramisu was rich and fabulous, as was the creme brûlée.  My wife is a big fan of strawberries and the slices on top of the creme brûlée and surrounding the tiramisu were very fresh.  It didn't cost them much out of pocket for the free desserts, but the gesture was deeply appreciated.  

There was no way we could finish either one of the desserts, but we enough of a dent in them to figure out that both were very good.  Our whole experience for dinner was one that was very memorable - not only for the fact that it was our 20th wedding anniversary but because everything was very good.  The food, the service, and the atmosphere were all superb.  Even the scene below as we gazed out the large windows after the sun set and the lights took over the streets was riveting.  It was pricey - yes.  But even with the question about the blackening seasoning, everything was great.  Osetra was a great find and one we'll remember for a long time.  

Central BBQ - Memphis, TN

During the COVID-19 pandemic, with travel curtailed and restaurants shut down except for carry-out, I haven't been able to visit any places to write about on Road Tips.  Hopefully, in the coming weeks that will be rectified.  However, for now, I've decided to dig back into the nearly 15 years of Road Tips posts and bring up some of the more memorable places we've been over the years. 

Today, we go back to Memphis, TN and one of the more popular barbecue places in the city.  It seems like locals in Memphis have their own favorite places for barbecue and can be adamant about their reasons why.  On a trip to Memphis about six years ago, we started to ask the locals their favorite place and the vast majority of them mentioned Central BBQ which first opened nearly 18 years ago.  Here is a look back at a memorable barbecue experience in Memphis, one of the meccas for barbecue in the U.S.

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We took a late summer trip down along the Mississippi River to Memphis.  We hadn't been to Memphis for about 14 years and we decided on this trip that we'd stay away from the tourist-trap places in the downtown area and branch out to see the rest of the city away from the lights and glitz of Beale Street.  Of course, Memphis barbecue is part of the Mid-South/Midwest BBQ triangle of St. Louis and Kansas City - at least to me.  We wanted to try a couple three places while we were in town, and after talking amongst some locals when we were there I was particularly interested in giving Central BBQ a try.  

Memphis-style barbecue features dry-rubbed ribs and other meats.  The Rendezvous is the most famous place, but we didn't think it was all that great when we first went there years ago.  We checked on other places and found that Neely's Bar-b-cue had closed (I ate at the location in Nashville - click here to read that entry), we were told their uncle Jim Neely's Interstate Barbecue wasn't as good as it used to be, and that some of the really good places for barbecue aren't places you'd necessarily go to at night.  But the consensus with people that we talked to was that Central BBQ was quite possibly the best in town.  (Some people will dispute that, I'm sure.  We found that almost everyone in Memphis has an opinion on their favorite local barbecue joints.)   

As I've found with a number of barbecue joints I've visited over the years, Central BBQ came about from the barbecue competition circuit.  Back in the mid-80's, Roger Sapp and Craig Blondis met on the competition trail.  The two began to compete in the annual Memphis in May World Barbecue Championships and got the bug for competition-style barbecue where you have to do everything - smoked meats, sauces, sides - very well.  

In 2001, Sapp and Blondis formed a company - Central BBQ LLC - and began to look for buildings for their first barbecue restaurant.  They found a small place on Central Ave. about a mile from the University of Memphis and opened on April 1, 2002.  The inside of the place only sat 45 people, but they built an outdoor patio area for additional seating in warm weather.  

A little over four years after opening their first location, the partners found a building that housed a former Red Lobster restaurant on Summer Ave. on Memphis' east side and opened their second location in the fall of 2006.  The kitchen area was appreciably larger than their original location allowing for two large smokers to be installed.  Plus, a lot of the kitchen equipment was still in place from the old Red Lobster so the move in was a snap.  The second location also seated about 220 people more than tripling the seating capacity of the original location on nice days.  

A couple years ago, Sapp and Blondis opened a third location in an old warehouse location in the South Main Arts District near downtown Memphis.  The downtown location is the biggest of the three Central BBQ locations seating over 250 patrons.  The two also continue to do barbecue competitions as the time allows.  

Even though we said we didn't want to visit Beale Street during our visit, we decided to head down and walk up and down the street to see if anything had changed since our last visit well over a dozen years before.  Some things had changed - most had not.  It was bike night on Beale Street that evening and a number of large motorcycles - many of them were tricked out - were parked up and down the block.  We grabbed a beer from one of the many street vendors and sauntered up and down the street looking at the bikes.  

After about a half hour of doing that, we decided to go get some barbecue from Central BBQ's original address on Central Ave. (See map)   (Actually, we didn't know the downtown location wasn't far from where we were.  See map)  We got out to the Central BBQ location around 8:30 p.m.  It turns out that they quit serving on weeknights at 9 p.m.  

As you come into the Central BBQ location there's a large outdoor patio area.  On warm weekend nights, I understand Central BBQ has live music on the patio.  We thought about eating outside but it was rather buggy, especially with the hanging lights above the tables.

The main dining room inside is small, but well lit.  There are a handful of booths and tables in the room.  It's cozy and has a little bit of a good ol' funky vibe to the place.  Classic soul music from the likes of James Brown and Sam & Dave were playing on the sound system in the dining room.  A mixed crowd of urban hipsters and middle-aged people were in there that evening.  


Entering the building, the ordering area up front has the menu on a board above the counter and a small bar area off to the right.  The focus meat at Central BBQ is pork, but they also feature beef brisket, chicken, turkey, bologna and sausage from their smoker.  Central BBQ is also somewhat locally famous for their smoked chicken wings and their barbecue nachos that feature pulled pork, cheese, jalapenos and barbecue sauce on tortilla chips.  (You can also get beef, chicken or turkey for a meat topping on the barbecue nachos.)  We noticed a lot of the younger people in the dining area noshing on the barbecue nachos.  They actually looked pretty good.

We decided to get a combo plate - a half-rack of ribs with one side wet (with barbecue sauce) and one side the traditional Memphis-style dry rub along with sliced brisket and pulled pork.  For sides we had our choice of items such as fries, green beans, potato salad, pork rinds, onion rings, collard greens and mac & cheese.  They also had baked beans - a must for me - and cole slaw, which is what my wife wanted.  

We also got a couple beers with the dinner.  They had Yazoo Brewing Company products on hand, a small brewery located in Nashville that I've had a couple times before.  They had a limited release beer - the 10 Year IPA - that signified their 10-year anniversary of being a brewery that I got.  My wife wanted to try the Summer Seasonal beer they had on tap.  After we placed our order and paid at the front counter, we were given a number and found a booth in the small dining room.

A young lady brought out our food about five minutes (or even less) after we ordered.  We should have just ordered the ribs completely dry because Central BBQ has a couple of barbecue sauces that turned out to be very good.  The mild sauce was sweet, but it had a little bit of a spicy bite on the backside of the taste buds.  The spicy sauce, well, it certainly got my attention.  You immediately got the spicy taste on the front of the tongue.  Both were very good.  (We ended up buying a bottle of the mild sauce before we left as my wife doesn't go for the spicy sauces like I do.)  

The ribs pulled apart easily and were moist and meaty with a hint of a smoky taste on top of the dry rub that they used.  It wasn't loaded with the dry rub like you find with other Memphis-style barbecue places.   The pulled pork was moist and almost melted in your mouth.  The brisket was a tad more dry, but still good enough with some sauce added.  Out of the three I would say the pulled pork was the best, the ribs a close second and the brisket was an even closer third.  

The baked beans featured chunks of pulled pork.  I added some of the hot barbecue sauce to the beans to give them a little kick.  I had a bite of the creamy cole slaw and while it was good, the beans were much better.  My wife - who is somewhat of a cole slaw connoisseur - thought the cole slaw at Central BBQ to be just "all right". 

Much has been written about Central BBQ since they opened over 11 years ago, so I really don't have much more to say than other people who have been there.  I have to say that we were both very impressed with Central BBQ.  I loved the fun and funky vibe to the place, the barbecue was very good to outstanding, and the overall experience was excellent.  I knew there had to be better barbecue places in Memphis than the old stand-bys the tourists go to.  Central BBQ showed us why they continually receive honors for some of the best barbecue in Memphis.  

Maid-Rite (Mr. Dan's Sandwich Shop) - Newton, IA

I haven't been able to travel since mid-March - and subsequently eat out in restaurants - due to travel restrictions and the suspension of dining-in at restaurants.  Because of that, I'm out of new material to share on Road Tips for the time being.  However, I decided to start a - hopefully - short series of looks back at some interesting places that I've visited over the past nearly 15 years of Road Tips.  

Today, we look back at the oldest continuous Maid-Rite sandwich shop in existence.  Although it is no longer a Maid-Rite franchise, the loose-meat sandwiches that are made here are the same as they were back when I started eating them as a child.  The owner, Dan Holtkamp, recently celebrated his 80th birthday and as of this past Monday, he and his wife, Pam, have owned the restaurant for 50 years - more than half of the time this location (now in its 94th year) has been open.  

Please re-enjoy the story of the Newton Maid-Rite, now officially known as Mr. Dan's Sandwich Shop, originally published in May of 2012.

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If there's anything that causes more food arguments in the state of Iowa, it has to be Maid-Rites. Maid-Rites are, quite simply, loose meat beef sandwiches served on buns. It's like a hamburger, only the meat is steamed in bins and falls out on wax paper as you eat them. In the 1900's, nearly every town of any size in Iowa had a Maid-Rite and natives from each of those towns will swear that their local Maid-Rite is the best. I grew up in Newton, IA and the oldest continuous Maid-Rite-style shop is located there. And while the sign out front still says "Maid-Rite", the official name of the place is now Mr. Dan's Sandwich Shop. But to the locals in Newton, it's still the Maid-Rite.

The Newton Maid-Rite has a long and interesting history behind it. Here it is -

After he opened the original Maid-Rite sandwich shop in Muscatine in 1925, Fred Angell was looking for a location to put a second restaurant. He settled upon the Central Iowa town of Newton, home of the burgeoning Maytag Washer Company.  Fred figured the workers would love his loose-meat sandwiches.

The Newton Maid-Rite opened in 1926 and it was originally known as the Maid-Rite Hamburg. The original building was a stucco and wood structure with two entrances on the front side. To get from one side of the counter to the other, patrons would have to walk out the front door on the one side and re-enter in the door on the opposite side.  There was a wooden sign out front cut in the form of a lady with a broom. I believe this may have been the Maid-Rite Maiden that Angell's wife used as the first logo of Maid-Rite shops. Angell ran the Newton location for six months before selling it to Gus Foster. 

Mr. Foster ran the Maid-Rite in Newton until 1937 when he sold it to Ethel Shelley, who was described as a "colorful lady." Some older people in Newton remember Ms. Shelley and fondly remember her running the shop in the late 30's into the early 40's.

Also in 1937, two years after franchising the Maid-Rite name (the first food franchise in the Midwest), Fred Angell decreed that all Maid-Rite's add a seasoning to their meat.  Ms. Shelley and Cliff Taylor, who founded and owned the Marshalltown Taylor's Maid-Rite location since 1928, decided that they didn't want to use the seasoning. I understand they fought Angell who finally backed down on his decree. Actually, I believe every Maid-Rite that was franchised after 1937 had to use the seasoning, but the Newton Maid-Rite and Taylor's Maid-Rite in Marshalltown were "grandfathered" in to not having to use the seasonings.

In 1944, Cliff Taylor passed away and his son, Don, took over Taylor's Maid-Rite.  In the early 50's, Don Taylor bought the Newton Maid-Rite from Ethel Shelley. A young man by the name of Quentin "Bud" Holland who worked for the Taylor family in Marshalltown was asked to move to Newton to run the operation there. Bud and his wife, Marty, moved to Newton where they raised two girls, Mardy and Chris.  Bud and Marty Holland eventually purchased the Maid-Rite in Newton from Don Taylor in 1958 and promptly renamed it Bud's Maid-Rite. 

In 1962, the front half of the Maid-Rite in Newton was reconstructed. While it was being built, patrons ate in a screened-in room in the back of the building. The locals referred to it as "the shack in the back."  After the renovation, it became the present day building with a single entrance in the front.  

In 1964, Mardy Holland was a junior in high school and her younger sister, Chris, was a sophomore. Bud and Marty decided to add a room in the back of the building.  This became sort of the defacto "teen center" in Newton. It had a serving counter in back, a jukebox and booths for the teen-aged kids to hang out. With sisters who were Mardy and Chris' age, I remember this part of the Maid-Rite very vividly. It was the place to go if you were a teenager in Newton in the mid to late 60's. 

In 1970, Bud and Marty retired and sold the Maid-Rite to Dan and Pam Holtkamp. The Holtkamp's had moved to Newton in 1968 as Dan had taken a job as an accountant for the old Parsons Manufacturing. They fell in love with Newton and wanted to make the town their permanent home to raise their kids. The Holtkamp's jumped head first into the business. Dan had a degree in business and one of the golden rules in business school is not to tamper with success. The Holtkamp's did little to the Maid-Rite after they took over and the transition was smooth. In fact, for years people still referred to the Maid-Rite as just "Bud's".

About the biggest change the Holtkamp's did was to take out the teen room in the back, change that into a full service seating area and open a back entrance to the restaurant. They also put in a drive-up window for people to get their Maid-Rites, fries and shakes. The Holtkamp's also introduced a smaller Maid-Rite - the Joey Rite (named after their son) - for smaller appetites. The Danielle Special (named after their daughter) was a Joey Rite, small soft drink and ice cream. The Holtkamp's also put in the Jaarsma Connection, a small counter in the back of the restaurant that served fresh Dutch pastries from the Jaarsma Bakery in Pella, IA.

Today, the back room has pencil sketches on the wall above the booths of the four owners of the Maid-Rite since late 1926 (below left).

One thing that Dan did not do was change the way the meat was prepared at the Maid-Rite. He told me one time that he doesn't use any seasonings in his meats, the way his predecessors did in their day. And the key is that he buys his meat from the same supplier who Bud Holland was using for years before Dan became the owner. Dan continues to grind his own beef in the basement. The taste of the Newton Maid-Rite comes from the old steamer that is used to cook the meat (above right). The steamer has been internally seasoned over the decades that it's been used to make countless Maid-Rites. The only thing that is added is a little bit of salt added to the top of the meat before the Maid-Rite is wrapped up in wax paper.

In 1982, the Angell family sold the Maid-Rite franchises to a company in Des Moines. The Maid-Rite franchise company was eventually bought by a gentleman by the name of Bradley Burt who insisted that all Maid-Rite franchises have uniformity in the way they prepared their sandwiches. He wanted - no, demanded - that all Maid-Rites buy their meat from his company and prepare it in a specific way. Dan Holtkamp and Don Short, the grandson of Cliff Taylor, resisted the changes and were allowed to continue to do business they way they had.

However, in 2006, the Iowa Department of Inspections and Appeals decided that the bins that the older Maid-Rites around the state used were deemed to be "unhealthy" as they allowed for the cooking of raw meat next to fully cooked meat. This is a process that Maid-Rites have used for well over 70 years, and they usually have a stainless steel partition in the bin to keep the cooked meat from the raw meat. Once the raw meat is cooked through, the partition is removed and the meat is all mixed together. As far as I know, no one has ever gotten sick from this type of cooking method.

Both Short and Holtkamp said that the changeover to new steamers would be cost ineffective for their businesses and Short led the appeal to the state of Iowa to overturn the ruling. However, it was determined that the original Maid-Rites were in violation of the administrative guidelines set forth by the Iowa Department of Inspections. But, both the Newton Maid-Rite and Taylor's in Marshalltown use the same old steamers and cooking process, so I'm guessing they were able to beat the ruling somewhere along the way.

The biggest change happened a few years ago when Dan Holtkamp (pictured right) silently changed the name of his shop to "Mr. Dan's Sandwich Shop". For years, Holtkamp's workers referred to him as "Mr. Dan" and the nickname stuck. Dan is still running the place daily, his big smile and friendly demeanor greeting customers as they come in. Dan told me, "You know, I'm 72 years old and I've owned this place for 42 years. If I'm able to - and I plan on doing it - in five more years I'll have owned this business in the same amount of years that all three of the previous owners owned it."  (Spoiler Alert! - He accomplished it...)

Sadly, one of the biggest changes to Dan's business has been the downturn thanks to the closing of Maytag in 2007. Lunch time at the Newton Maid-Rite was an adventure and scene of much jockeying of seats throughout the place trying to get a Maid-Rite and get back to work at the office or factory. I learned a long time ago that you just don't go to Maid-Rite between noon and 1 p.m. on weekdays. Unfortunately, that isn't the case any longer. Business at the Newton Maid-Rite is still steady, but it's not at the same level that it was years ago.

During Newton High School reunion weekends, the Maid-Rite is overrun by former residents back in town for their class reunions. The blackboard on the east side wall has been there for years announcing food specials, game scores, events and even allowing patrons to post their own notes on the board. The menu boards on both walls, I have to believe, are the same ones that have been in the place since Bud Holland refurbished the place in 1962. The front part of the Newton Maid-Rite hasn't changed much - if any - since the building was reconstructed 50 years ago.

I was passing through Newton on my way home recently and decided to stop in and have a Maid-Rite. Actually, I like their Cheese-rites - basically a Maid-Rite with a slice of American cheese on top. And I love to drink milk with my Maid-Rites and/or Cheese-rites. Don't know where I got that from, but I always order a large milk when I have a Maid-Rite.

The Cheese-rites are wrapped in an outer wrap with yellow stripes to denote the cheese on the sandwich. When the Cheese-rite is unwrapped, the excess meat falls out. A spoon is provided to pick up the loose meat on the wrapper. In the winter time, the Maid-Rite also has chili and it's good chili. What I like to do is get a bowl of chili and pour the excess meat into the chili after I have the Cheese-rite.

Some people will ask for the Maid-Rite/Cheese-Rite moist. I like mine a little dry, just as ordered. Like the original Maid-Rites, everything is mustard, pickle and onion. I put a little ketchup and, surprisingly, a little more salt on my Cheese-Rites before I eat them. I hardly EVER put salt on anything, but I like my Cheese-rites salty. The buns that Dan uses are pretty basic, but it's never really been about the bun at Maid-Rite all the way back to the day of Bud Holland. The meat is the thing that keeps bringing me back to the Newton Maid-Rite.

It's sort of like the people in the Quad Cities who grew up eating Harris Pizza and thinking that it is the best pizza in the world. Being from Newton, I think the Maid-Rites from the Newton Maid-Rite are the best in the world. I will admit there are others who think Taylor's in Marshalltown is better. Of course, there are thousands of natives of Ottumwa who think the Canteen's at the Canteen Lunch are the best. People in Sioux City think the "taverns" at Miles Inn are the best. But I could easily be accused of being provincial when it comes to the Newton Maid-Rite, or more correctly Mr. Dan's Sandwich Shop. It's the oldest and, I think, the best.

Let the debate continue...