Crazy for Kitsch
By Alison BingTravel your taste buds to America’s most outlandish eateries
When did dining get so serious? With studiously austere decor and hushed voices, many fine–dining establishments have all the atmosphere of a college library. Luckily, you can still find restaurants across the U.S. where goofing off at the table is actually encouraged. For crowd–pleasing comfort food in unique settings, these five eateries are true American originals.
Ellis Island, Las Vegas, Nevada
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”…and if that’s not on the menu, I’ll just go for the chicken–fried steak dinner accompanied by a house–brewed ale. Immigration seems like an odd destination dining theme, especially since Ellis Island looks like a prison from the outside–but inside is a promised land of Elvis impersonators, $3 blackjack, laser karaoke, and cheap breakfasts served around the clock. Dieters face daunting odds at most casino buffets–the trick to Vegas is always knowing when to step away from the table–but at Ellis Island, dishes are made to order by the people, for the people.
Crane's Pie Pantry, Fennville, Michigan
Blink and you'll miss pocket–sized Fennville–located west of Grand Rapids, this country village has a population of just 1,400–but you won’t want to miss Crane’s Pie Pantry. Pull over by the 1930s bootlegger truck to this little roadside attraction that’s been “a tradition of goodness” since 1916. Saluting Kewpie dolls honor your efforts to finish generous slices of peach pie à la mode while you check out barn walls festooned with farm memorabilia and rusted–tin ads that have outlived their credibility like the “Old Gold Cigarettes: Not a Cough in a Carload” sign. Even the prices are retro: $1 cider, hot doughnuts for $6 per dozen, and $13 for just–baked, additive–free cherry pie. As the Cranes say: "If we can't spell it, we won't put it in our pies!"
Oklahoma Joe's, Kansas City, Missouri
This KC classic offers up the best twice–smoked barbecue you'll ever scarf down while filling your tank at a Shamrock gas station. The neon pig out front is all the advertisement necessary for the succulent ribs and barbecue baked beans that have made this filling–station–turned–restaurant famous. Wash it all down with beer or a creation from the pour–your–own–pop station–regulars recommend blending cream soda with Dr. Pepper. Light eaters dispense with the usual bun, and get the Pig Salad: lettuce smothered with pulled pork and smoky–sweet Bubba's Sauce. The inevitable line gives you just enough time to inspect the Frisbee–golf disc selection, the awards–studded galvanized–tin walls, and a mini–mart's worth of sauces.
Mythos Restaurant, Orlando, Florida
Dodge dueling dragons and spelunk into an island sea–cave for dinner at Universal’s Islands of Adventure, where subterranean streams rush past a fire–breathing–monster fireplace. At your table, you'll confront another mythical beast: a respectable risotto served in a theme–park restaurant. For kids too old to be easily impressed by Dr. Seuss' Hop on Pop Ice Cream Shop but too young for Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, the unbeatable draw here is the $1.75 “dessert shot”: a mini–parfait layered with cake and mousse. To dine without paying park admission, tell guest services you're headed to Mythos. They'll request a credit card, but if you return with your Mythos bill within two–and–a–half hours–perhaps after a free roller coaster ride–they'll cancel the admission charge.
Doug Fir, Portland, Oregon
The love child of a ’50s log cabin diner and a swinging ’70s bar, the Doug Fir is one of Portland’s favorites, offering a basement rumpus room (complete with glowing disco floors) and a modern, ski–chalet–inspired dining room. Their locally sourced fish–and–chips plate is the diet staple of Portland's music scene, but PBJ is the hit of the under–12 "Lil' Spruce" menu. After a hard–days work, lounge in padded booths under mirror–ball lamps with $3 Happy Hour apps (3–6pm daily) and signature Blackberry Cosmos (served 7am–3am) until Portland's next indie sensation storms the stage. Groupies, take note: show tickets get you $3 off entrees.
- Flamingo, Las Vegas, Nevada: Most new Vegas Strip guestrooms are lackluster for a reason: casinos want you at the tables. But with flamingos stalking the lawn, waterfall pools, and new GO rooms ($145–165/night) tricked out with white patent headboards, bathroom TVs and hot–pink shower spotlights, the Flamingo comes up aces. — www.flamingolasvegas.com
- The Pines Motor Lodge, Douglas, Michigan: If Paul Bunyan traded Babe the Blue Ox for a baby–blue ’57 Chevy, he'd roll in here for the night after raiding Crane's Pie Pantry. Vintage cabins ($79–179/night) are spruced up with knotty pine ceilings, nostalgic travel posters (“Visit Cuba!”), and log beds with cushy comforters. — www.thepinesmotorlodge.com
- The Stone Castle Inn, Branson, Missouri: Kansas kitsch fans detour to folksy Branson for theme suites like the Pirates of the Caribbean ($90–120/night), complete with galleon bed, whirlpool tub, and a mural of a dapper, Johnny Depp–ish pirate. The Presidential Suite ($129–149/night) features an Oval Office and mirrored hot tub, which sounds like grounds for impeachment. — www.bransonsettleinn.com
- Disney's Polynesian Resort, Orlando, Florida: The Polynesian hasn't changed much since the Brady Bunch went to Hawaii, so expect to find Tiki lamps glowering in longhouse guestrooms ($365–575/night), a waterslide down a 40–foot volcano and hammocks slung between palms on the manmade sugar–sand beach–all with Cinderella's Castle on the horizon. — disneyworld.disney.go.com
- Ace Hotel, Portland, Oregon: Ship–shape standard rooms ($95–130/night) are retro–fitted with vintage suitcase tables and charcoal–grey murals by local artists (“Somebody in Oregon Loves Me,” claims one piece of artwork by Ryan Jacob Smith), while entourage–ready suites ($175–250/night) offer turntables, convertible sofas and walls scrawled with Supertramp lyrics. — www.acehotel.com
- Archie McPhee, Seattle, Washington: Don't bake it: fake it with inflatable fruitcakes, corn–dog air fresheners and eggnog soap from the weirdest superstore in the West. — www.archiemcpheeseattle.com
- Omnivore Books, San Francisco, California: Follow the First Ladies’ recipes in Kennedy–era congressional cookbooks, and perfect your own red–white–and–blue ambrosia salad. — www.archiemcpheeseattle.com
- Uncle Fun, Chicago, Illinois: Ricky Martin “La Vida Loca” lunchboxes, bacon–flavored dental floss and discontinued celebrity Pez dispensers are essentials at the Department of Funland Frivolity. — www.unclefunchicago.com
- Neophobia, New Orleans, Louisiana: Retro collectors shun reproductions and seek the genuine article here, from Steuben glass mushrooms to mint rattan Tiki bars. — www.neophobia–nola.com
- Zinger Hardware & General Merchant, Austin, Texas : Bring renegade Texas ranch style to suburban ranch homes with floral–pattern tools, TV dinner trays and a shiny red wagon for serving drinks. — www.zingerhardware.com
