A recent trip from Denver to North Platte, Nebraska, yielded a few finds that may be of interest to hungry travelers on 1-80. In Fort Morgan, Colorado, we stopped at Stroh's Inn for a late lunch. Note the "Sands" Motel in background. Incongruous? Not really, since we were nearing the Sand Hills of Nebraska, home of the Sandhill Crane.
It's hard to believe that with a mother from Kansas I made it past my 50th birthday before I had my first chicken fried steak with cream gravy. Stroh's version, breaded to order, proved a satisfying initiation to the genre: crunchy, meaty, salty and tender with a rich sauce that actually tasted of cream. The scrambled eggs and hash browns ensured that upon my arrival in North Platte, (several hours to the east) I would still be full from lunch.
Had I kept a cooler head when ordering, I might have joined my daughter in the tender, though thoroughly cooked, house-made prime rib sandwich. The waitress told us this was their most popular item. She seemed to think that the cheese bread it's served on is a big draw. While the bread was indeed fresh, I would have preferred something simpler, but that's just a quibble, since this was a very nice sandwich. Later this week in our travels, I determined that the prime rib sandwich is part of a "greatest hits" menu lineup in the valley of the North Platte River.
That might be because lots of cattle and corn are raised here. The view from our hotel window moved my city girl to explore the area just beyond the parking lot:
She was not tempted by the field corn, but we did end up picking about a pint of large mulberries for breakfast the next day. We were further rewarded by a Sandhill Crane sighting -- or was it a Heron?
That evening we scoured the Internet for recommendations on local food. Reluctant to do any more driving, we missed out on Ole's Big Game in Paxson, jlawrence01's recommendation. Instead, we hit Merrick's Ranch House, the kind of family restaurant where one would expect to see Hank, Peggy, and Bobby Hill having dinner on a Friday night. This was the best fried chicken in recent memory, cooked to order and very lightly floured. Best of all, I could have all dark meat. Hash browns had the tang of freshly grated potatoes.
It's probably best not to venture too far away from the chicken, as my daughter discovered, upon ordering a Chef's Salad that came with a flood of ranch dressing over rather wilted iceberg.
On the way back to Denver, we located another good lunch stop in Sterling, Colorado, using nothing but chow-dar. Had it been a bad meal, I would still be proud to have eaten at this place, if only because of the name.
My mother rolled her eyes in protest, but fortunately, none of the chain options in Sterling appealed to her. Alongside the pig announcing the county fair was this:
Inside, the place was welcoming, and a lively family (the guys in cowboy hats) was celebrating a birthday.
We ordered the daily special, a turkey dinner with dressing. This was good, but given the mulitude of desserts offered, we decided to save room. The blackberry cobbler, baked, but not made in-house, was outstanding, as was the brown-sugarry pecan pie.
For the curious out there, TJ Bummer's Family Restaurant is not named for a family, but rather for a dog named Bummer.
Stroh's Inn
901 W. Platte
Fort Morgan, CO
(970)867-6654
Merrick's
219 S. Dewey
North Platte, NE
(308)532-4729
TJ Bummer's
203 Broadway
Sterling, CO
(970) 522-8397
Man : I can't understand how a poet like you can eat that stuff.
T. S. Eliot: Ah, but you're not a poet.