We arrive at our Marshalltown hotel, a two-hour drive from our beloved Perry. We wait in the van while Roy checks us in. It is incredibly windy (a consequence of Iowa's flatness, I assume), and we watch some hapless sparrows flap against the wind. One lands on the grass, near a crow. The crow grabs the sparrow and starts pecking at it, feathers and sparrow parts flying. This puts us in the mood for snacks.
Before arrival, I had done a little research and found glowing Roadfood & Epicurious reviews of a restaurant called Stone's. So off to Stone's we went.
It's a quaint place, open since 1887. Decorated like my Aunt Bessie's farmhouse. Known for its mile-high lemon chiffon pie. Epicurious called it one of "America's Top Ten Pies." We'll see about that.
We all take a trip to the salad bar. There are only two mayo-covered salads. Promising. The waitress says all of the steaks are from the local butcher. Things are looking up. I order the chopped steak, medium.
It arrives, wrapped in bacon (yeah) with hash browns (all righty) and a side of veggies (frozen - but I can deal) and covered in brown gravy with canned mushrooms (uh-oh). I cut into it; it's well-done. Not medium.
Wisa orders onion rings (frozen - hm) and prime rib, which she says is pretty good.Pam orders the same. Both orders come with mashed potatoes, which are totally devoid of salt (oh, no) and seem to be made with water instead of milk (oh, the humanity).
Dessert has got to be better. PJ tries the rhubarb pie, I order the famous lemon chiffon pie.
Pretty, eh? The lemon is mile-high, just as advertised. But it has the texture of wet circus peanuts. The rhubarb pie isn't much better.
Now, I belive that it's the job of a restaurant critic, even a small-beans amateur like me, to point out the good things, the gems of a restaurant. I'm not here to whine about bad food.
But "America's Top Ten Pies"?
Epicurious can bite me.
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