Oh, the dog days of winter - the first Saturday since August with no football. To ease into withdrawal I decided the next best thing would be a visit to the College Football Hall of Fame in South Bend, IN, which I've been meaning to do for years.
Food would be vital on this journey. After close study of the map, the HOF was combined with my first ever foray into the dark heart of Amish Country. Finely honed street smarts made me avoid the 1100-seat "Das Dutch Essenhaus", although I admit I was intrigued by the simple honesty of the name, "House of Eating" - I doubt you'll find any sous-vide or foam in this place.
Going through downtown Middlebury, saw a horse and buggy parked in front of The Village Inn. Peeked in the window of the 40-seat diner and saw waitresses with bonnets, and Abe Lincoln beards (just on the men). Eureka! We'd struck Mennonite gold.
Came in and every head turned to check out the weirdos, but hostess and everyone else was sehr gemütlich. My wife had the daily special of broasted chicken with dressing, comes with mashed potatoes and classic yellow gravy and corn, choice of soup or salad (wilted iceberg). Chicken was a little dry but tasty. I enjoyed the dressing but my wife didn't. It had bits of dark meat & gizzards mixed in, not what you'd typically expect out of dressing/stuffing. After seeing these endless pork tenderloin posts I had to order it, but eh - it certainly isn't wiener schnitzel. Pounded as thin as a slice of paper, then breaded and deep fried. Mashed potatoes came with a brown gravy this time, which was boldly peppered.
The meal comes with a slice of homemade white bread. This gave me a serious "À la recherche du temps perdu" moment, when I had my first hot open-faced roast beef platter as a kid in some nondescript diner. Growing up we never went out to eat, and I thought I'd discovered the most magnificent thing ever devised by man. The slice of white bread hidden under the thin sliced beef & gravy was the thing that truly shocked and awed me. And my first bite of white bread at the Village Inn transported me back to that sacred place. This was truly the airiest, whitest white bread I ever had in my life, not that unholy plastic white of Wonder Bread® - just, in a word, white.
Since they're only open for breakfast and lunch and we got there kind of late, they marked down the price of pie from $1.95 to $1.00 to clear out the day's inventory. What the hell, forget about splitting let's splurge and get one each! My wife had chocolate, which had a filling like a Jello® chocolate pudding mix. I had peanut butter, which was like a Jello® vanilla pudding mix with crumbled nuts. Both buried under whipped cream.
Was the strangest meal, it's all coming back to me in a fever dream. Everything was made from scratch, my mind insisted upon that. Portions were ample (key), and cheap; $20 total. But my lizard brain told me this was the ur-meal from which all future processed TV dinners and such sprang forth. This is what billions of dollars and intensive food lab research with their wondrous chemicals and additives strove to recreate. I'd found Kurtz!
So if you jaded urbanites are ever in need of a fix of pure Caucasian soul food to get back to your roots and recalibrate your palates, this is the place:
The Village Inn
107 S. Main St.
Middlebury, IN
(574) 825-2043