Sunday, June 3, 2012

Until today I had never eaten at a Cracker Barrel



We left the campground early, and Alix slept on, till we stopped several hours later for gas in Terry, Montana. The drive from the Montana border west and south along the Yellowstone River is one of my favorite stretches in North America. We got off the interstate and drove the old highway where possible, closer to the river, down along the shallow valley bottom where the cottonwood trees grow thick and tall. It had rained all night but the morning sky cleared and the sun shone bright on the low hills, smooth crenelations a mile apart at the edges of the river valley.

In Billings we tried the downtown thrift stores, but none were open on a Sunday, and neither was Sarah’s a Mexican restaurant we have lunched at in the past. We parked outside a hospital and Alix used their wifi to check on restaurant options…and for some reason came up with Cracker Barrel. She was curious.

The parking lot beside the interstate was large and full, and I thought we’d have to wait. But no, capacity was not a problem. The long porch out front was lined with rocking chairs, each with a tag indicating it was for sale. The marketing of the supposed past continued just inside the door, where we came into a gift shop, the shelves full of gimcrackery…. On the far side of the room a young woman grabbed two menus and we followed her through the restaurant, past a huge open fireplace (fireless), past busy tables where people were working hard on big plates of fried food.

We got a table in a corner by a window, but after a moment I had to go back out for a sweatshirt. The ac was aggressive…. The walls of the restaurant were festooned with old-timey stuff: tin advertising signs for seeds and soft drinks and sparkplugs; implements such as rolling pins, oil cans, muffin tins, and saws, all patina-ed with age; black and white portrait photos of people a century-dead…. The chilly room was noisy with the loud talk of diners, the clank of their silverware on thick white plates…. An army of servers rushed about.

Alix ordered the fried chicken and mashed potatoes special, I had beef stew and apple sauce and green beans and biscuits. Sounds good, but the country-style food was as ersatz as the décor….

When I paid the bill in the gift shop, the man in front of me was buying a dog statue, a life-sized canine wearing a straw hat garnished with a sunflower. I admired him for his purchase; I wouldn’t have had the joie de vivre….

We stopped in Bozeman too, at a target and a Safeway, then turned south towards the high, snow-covered mountains, and soon entered the narrow Gallatin Valley. We camped at Swan Creek, a campground a mile off the main road. Rain storms had been chasing across the mountains in short bursts, and soon after Alix put chicken breasts on the fire grill, it began to rain. She crouched over the fire and held a plate over the meat to shield it. Then hail started falling, bouncing all around the fire pit and off Alix’s head. I stayed back a few feet under the shelter of a big spruce tree.  But Alix was indefatigable in protecting our dinner….

A campground attendant came by in a small pick-up and stopped to collect our fee ($14). He wore a Vietnam Vet ball cap, and had a small wiener dog on his lap. The dog licked the man’s forearm with an untoward intensity during most of our short conversation (which focused on the standard, the weather).

We ended up eating in the van. I put up the table in the back and we sat side by side. We watched the next portion of New Moon while enjoying the chicken, pasta salad, and a plate of sliced cucumbers and tomatoes. I thought that Bella was meaner than necessary when Jacob tried to stop her from rushing off to Italy to save Edward. 

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