In the northeastern section of Iowa, the snow is finally starting to melt. Some people have lost money betting against such an eventuality, but there you have it. Winter seems like such a permanent thing when it’s here, despite the fact that spring always arrives, along with people turning up their air conditioners and complaining about how hot it is, and isn’t the weather ever going to cool off? So it goes.
Nevertheless, after working out at the gym I thought I would head to nearby Decorah and sample one of their restaurants. I think I’ve hit all the good restaurants on the main street, and now I wanted to see what some of the side street restaurants had to offer.
The one I chose was the La Rana bistro, a corner restaurant that is an amazing cross between a mom-and-pop restaurant and a fine dining establishment. It’s a mom-and-pop restaurant because it’s small. Quite small. The main dining area takes up one side of the restaurant, and consists of one long lacquered wood bench with several small tables. There are two more tables for two at each of the windows, and two more high tables in the center that seat two. You know the ones I’m talking about—the ones where you feel you might need a stepladder to climb up onto them. If you bring a short date to the restaurant, you’ll probably have to lift her up. I’m 6’2” and my feet dangle off the floor while I’m sitting in these chairs.
There is also an L-shaped bar that seats about eight, which is where I sat. A kindly looking bartender in a shirt I don’t want to call pink but am having a hard time coming up with another name for, faded red maybe, brought me a glass of water and a dinner menu. On the menu were such items as grass-fed local steak, roast duck and a hamburger, which seemed out of place among all the more sophisticated menu items. In its defense, it was also made from a local grass-fed cow and served on a ciabatta bun, but still I thought it was putting on airs. After looking through the menu, I settled on the special—local chicken, rotini, broccoli, mushrooms and asiago cheese in a brandy cream sauce. As an appetizer I was served three slices of freshly-baked bread on a rectangular white dish, with a small shallow bowl of olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping. The bread was fresh, tender and good, and I enjoyed the entrée very much when it came out.
I also struck up a conversation with the bartender, who had no other patrons at the bar other than myself. He stood behind rows after rows of fine liquor and whiskey, and occasionally fielded questions from the main waitress of the place about available wines. They had a suggested wine pairing for the special as well, you see. As it turns out, the bartender was also the owner of the restaurant, a carpenter who built the restaurant when Decorah was in need of some new eateries. I’ve heard the same story a few times, and honestly when I hear it I am not in a restaurant that is even half this nice. Usually, the restaurant offers open-faced turkey sandwiches on white bread with gravy, a few variations on a burger, and some steak or grilled chicken. If you’re lucky, they have a decent salad bar with one special type of potato or pasta salad that is among the head cook’s specialty. It may have even won an award at a fair. I’m not trying to disparage these restaurants, but at the same time the proprietors aren’t trying to do anything more than give their customers something good to eat. The La Rana, on the other hand, was in the business of fine, delicious dining. I will admit I have underestimated people, and I should say this is one of those times. I’m not sure what possesses a carpenter to construct a restaurant such as this. Don’t you usually picture carpenters as very blue-collar people? The kind of guys who, when they knock off early, knock back a few brews and down either a hambuger or a sandwich and fries at an A&W or the local bar? I have yet to meet a carpenter who, when the day is done, says, “You know, I have to admit, tonight I have a craving for local-grown meats, fresh veggies, and some brandy-cream sauce.” Yet here I was, talking with a carpenter who had done just that. I think next I’ll search for a Wall Street banker who goes to Hooters on the weekend.
I didn’t get the bartender-owner’s name, although I kept thinking his name was Tom. He looked the way a Tom is supposed to look. He was in his sixties, shaved his head and grown a short dull white beard. He wore glasses and had blue eyes. Maybe that’s not a Tom to you, but to me it radiated Tom-ness. If it turns out his name is not Tom, I will be sad. Disappointed, at least.
Finally, full but not overstuffed, I made my way back to my car and started driving. I drove slowly, because with the snow melting, deer are on the move. IN case no one is aware, deer are some of the deadliest animals, simply for their penchant of walking across roads at night. They also freeze up when caught in the glare of a bright light, ensuring you will hit them if you are not paying attention and traveling at high speeds. Not paying attention and traveling at high speeds is, by the way, the preferred state of many northeast Iowa drivers on Saturday night. According to the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, 1.5 million people a year die because of getting into an accident with deer and elk. They are also one of the top causes of automobile accidents. The Department of Transportation does put up signs that indicate deer crossing and helpfully point out that they may be crossing for the next five miles of road, but I have come to realize that deer are notoriously poor readers. They don’t read these signs and instead walk across the road wherever they damn well please. Instead, the Department of Transportation should put up several deer crossing signs, but not ones that indicate where the deer are probably crossing, just put up one every five miles or so on a highway that goes through the country. “Deer Crossing,” it would say, “Just in case you forgot.” Or it could be added to the speed limit signs. “55 Miles Per Hour, 45 for trucks, and there may be DEER CROSSING!” Fortunately, I made it home without seeing one deer, which was good. I’ve had deer suddenly appear in my field of vision, and it is always a harrowing process.
Finally, I got back to Cresco. One restaurant down, several more to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment