Upstate

I'm traveling this week for work and pleasure, although it's at my insistence that the work element entered into the equation. It's the reason the trip took form. While I would have preferred to have stretched it out by a couple days--and not be carting a trunk full of television equipment--it should be a good time, if driving-intensive.

I spent the better part of the day driving east through the southern part of New York. The first time I drove through this part of the state was the weekend before Thanksgiving in 1995. I was shocked at how little I passed. There's a lot of wilderness and little else, at least what's visible from the highway. Today's journey marks just the third time since then that I've driven through upstate New York two, yet even though I know what to expect, I marvel at how isolated it can seem out here.

My first stop on the trip falls under the "pleasure" designation. Since I've come about halfway to my primary destination--Bangor, Maine--it made perfect sense, at least to me, to visit the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York. It's not like the place is on the way to much anywhere else, so with it being sort of on the route, I had my excuse to stop here. (I'm actually staying about twenty miles away to save on otherwise fairly high hotel rates for the middle of nowhere, although rooms are no bargain here.)

As I transferred my belongings from the car to the hotel, I felt as though anyone seeing me unload or cleaning my room might incorrectly assume that I am an assassin or terrorist. (I have two cabbage cases with TV stuff, three other cases, and two tripod bags that could be mistaken for something carrying rifles.)

I failed in my lunchtime quest to find a local place to eat, but for dinner I stopped at Neptune Diner, one of those places that's open 24 hours and serves just about anything you can imagine. I certainly didn't leave there needing to eat anything for the rest of the evening. If I lack for other options, I certainly have no problem returning there. We'll see how long I visit Cooperstown tomorrow, though. I don't expect to pass through here again anytime soon.

Remembrance of roast beef sandwiches past

Remember how I wrote about defunct fast food franchises and discovered in the process that Rax restaurants, although few in number, are still out there serving roast beef sandwiches? Well, check this out.

That's right, it's a real, live, honest-to-goodness, in-operation Rax in Bellefontaine, Ohio. I stopped on Christmas Eve day en route to my parents' place. And get this... When I had my Thanksgiving experience with unstoppable cruise control, I was a mile or less from this very eatery and didn't know it. They were probably open then too.

You see, this Rax seems to be an all-purpose, 24/7 dining option for hungry travelers exiting state route 33. (You better know it's there, though. It's not listed on the exit sign but an Arby's is.) If you enlarge the picture, you'll see signs stating they are open 24 hours, including all day on Christmas, and sell non-Rax-like food such as pizza.

The inside of the restaurant looks like the chain's latter day buildings: bright interior, no solarium. Most conspicuous in its absence was the salad bar, although like I mentioned, this seems like a place optimized for those on the road. The prominent drive-thru makes that apparent. The interior menu looked more or less like I remembered it. I wouldn't be surprised if the menu board is exactly the same except with higher prices. I wasn't brave enough to snap a photo inside, but I did take one of the drive-thru menu.

Having not been in a Rax in who knows how long--ten years?--that's an imposing menu to navigate. Plus, they list no combo meals, so you have to look over this monster to find everything you want. I knew what I wanted before I set foot in it, but it still overwhelmed me. The prices seemed a little on the high side for fast food, especially with no combo meal break but whatever. I was happy to find the presumed dead franchise.

I ordered a regular roast beef, medium fries, and a medium chocolate chip shake to go. Except for the bag, the food came in nondescript packaging and with non-branded napkins. My hypothesis is that the bag is leftover inventory, although maybe this visit wasn't representative. I stopped by on the way home and got a large fries in a container bearing a logo. Lack of branded packaging isn't necessarily indicative of the restaurant's economic health, but with an extra charge assessed if you wish to use a card to pay, I have to wonder if their margins are really thin.

As for the food itself, the fries were good and may be like how I remember, although really, how would I know? I liked the sandwich too, but I can't say how it compares to those from the past.

The shake, though, was definitely different. I had wanted mint chocolate chip, but those weren't available for order. Rax used to coat part of the cup's walls with chocolate and nicely decorate the top with whipped cream and chocolate chips like coffee shops top mochas and hot chocolates. (In fairness, my shake might have looked like that, but I couldn't tell with the flat lid.) This shake was thicker, and the mini chocolate chips wouldn't travel up the straw, meaning I essentially had a vanilla shake with a couple scoops of chips resting on the cup's bottom.

If you must know, I didn't buy bags and bags of Rax's regular roast beefs to maintain a ration like Bill McNeal does with his precious, old vending machine sandwiches in Newsradio. I liked what I ate, and I might stop by on future drives to visit my parents. I've had my fill for now, though.

Food for thought

I cannot imagine why the question and answers came to me as I woke up at various times in the middle of the night, but for some reason one of the things I was mulling over while I slept (and when it was interrupted) was fast food restaurant franchises that no longer exist. Seriously, I don't know what brought it on.

I'm not exactly sure what thoughts came during waking life and sleeping life, but I came up with three while dismissing a fourth for a nitpicky reason. Here are my answers to a question no one was asking:

1. Burger Chef

In terms of logos it seems fitting that the Burger Chef which used to be in Englewood, Ohio when I was a kid was replaced by an Arby's. Just trade the chef's hat for a cowboy hat on the sign outside the restaurant. Burger Chef has been long gone--the Wikipedia page suggests that the local change may have happened around 1982--but it's a perfect example of whatever mystery my brain was trying to solve in the early a.m. hours. I haven't thought of this place in forever, so I'm a little curious to poke around The Burger Chef Reliquary to see if I recognize anything.

2. Rax

Until Rax started going downhill, I preferred it over Arby's. Their roast beef sandwiches were better. The salad bar was ahead of its time for a fast food place, and I loved their mint chocolate chip shakes. The food was memorable, and so was the atmosphere. It always seemed like a classier fast food place than most. The lighting was not as harsh and set more of a fine dining mood. Assuming my memory isn't failing me, the floors were carpeted, and the front seating area was a solarium.

I can remember many Sundays after church with the Rax line snaking to the entrance. On the way back from Washington, D.C. I stopped at one off of I-70 several years ago, in part because I couldn't believe it was still in operation. Apparently Rax is still alive and kicking, barely. Perhaps a road trip is in order one of these days. Lancaster isn't that far. And to bring things full circle, Rax emerged from a corporation that began with a Burger Chef.

3. Roy Rogers Restaurants

Again, I haven't seen one of these in ages, and it's not like I remember them very well in my past either. I can envision one that I think was in the Dayton area--maybe it was Cincinnati, as there's some hazy memory of eating at one of these before some farm trade show down there--but unlike the other two, I can't say that it was a place ate which we ate with any regularity. To my surprise, Roy Rogers Restaurants are not defunct.

So here I was thinking that Rax and Roy Rogers weren't around any longer--with as few locations as both have, neither are exactly booming--but they didn't qualify while Sisters Chicken & Biscuits, my slumber-addled disqualified answer, most certainly does. I don't know if I ever ate at one, so the lack of a personal tie probably eliminated it in my mind. Sisters definitely isn't around now. It doesn't even have a Wikipedia entry.

Other bygone fast food places are starting to come back to me as I poke around for information, but these were the ones that came to me in the haze between sleeping and waking. I guess I can be grateful for coming up with a blogging idea during my off hours.