Roadside Restaurant Review
Glenn, MI
July 23, 2020
I am in my usual spot. On the edge of the bluff, morning coffee in hand, and a small, wary bunny a few feet away…keeping an eye on me as he chews cautiously on a few blades of grass.
The bunny may feel less apprehensive than he normally might, for this week we are a smaller crowd. The four of us planned to be here the end of this month, but events conspired against us.
Alexander is completing his first courses at Auburn, and final exams are scheduled for next week. Being his last few days before moving to campus, Rita wanted to be with him before he goes.
But we also didn’t want to deprive David his time at the lake. As one who always thinks of others, and is willing to sacrifice anything for his sons, I agreed to bring him myself. Yesterday morning, he and I grabbed a quick bite, threw our things in the car, and began the familiar drive.
Actually, we took our alternate route. We usually go from Chattanooga to Nashville, then north to Louisville and Indianapolis, before hitting the homestretch thru South Bend and South Haven. This time, we extended our drive, but varied our scenery.
Leaving northern Georgia, we crested the western Appalachians in eastern Tennessee, and descended into southern Kentucky. David slept most of the way. Fortunately, I didn’t.
But, after five and a half hours we, and the car, needed to re-fuel. We stopped for lunch in the rolling horse country around Lexington.
Coming to and from here last month, David asked that we eat at a place called Raising Canes, a fast food joint in various states that his Instagram hordes had extolled for its chicken fingers and fries. I’d hope they’d be good. Canes doesn’t serve anything else.
On our accustomed route last month, he found only one location, in Louisville…but a ways from our highway. So we passed on it, opting instead for Culver’s. This time, we found a Canes just off the highway in Richmond, KY.
After a quick pit stop, we were ready…at long last…to give it a try. Like many restaurants, it was open only for take-out or drive thru. We chose the latter, grabbed our food, and parked to eat.
The reviews from both of us were relatively good. The consensus was that the chicken was much better than the low bar of Zaxbys, but a notch below the standard set by Chick-fil-A. It was the Hilton or Marriott of fast food places. Not a Grand Hyatt or a Westin Grand…but by no means a Motel 6. We’d certainly go back.
The meat was tender, and the breading was light, with a nice touch of spice. It lacked only a fine Oregon Pinot…or a smooth Kentucky Bourbon…to dip it in. Still, it went well with what the French call “American Champagne”. Importantly, the crinkled fries were tasty, with the right amount of salt.
And we had none of the gastrointestinal aftershocks that typically rumble after a fast food meal. We agreed Canes would be added to our menu of highway gourmet. Stomachs full and box checked, we continued on our way.
We crossed the Ohio into Indiana under a sporadic rain on the beltway west of Cincinnati. After dipping briefly into Ohio, we returned to Indiana, and eventually re-joined our normal route at Indianapolis.
On our way in, we stopped at Meijer for a grocery run. The effect of mandatory production and supply chain disruptions was apparent across rows of empty shelves. Beef and pork were almost gone. We managed to grab the last couple cuts of each. Anyone wanting chicken is now out of luck as well.
Perhaps, before the rest of the shelves are bare, our overlords will realize “the economy” is not a machine. Central Command can’t turned it off and on with the flick of a switch. Or, at least it can’t turn it on. As Elon Musk recently put it, if you don’t make stuff, there is no stuff.
We managed to get most of the stuff we needed, and finished the final ten miles of the trip. Eleven hours after sipping coffee in Atlanta, we watched the sun set over Lake Michigan.
JD
