A Well Kept Secret

          A Well Kept Secret

Suzanne Marsh

“Is there someplace to eat close to here?”

“Yeah, go down about a mile turn right; got the best food in town.”

“How many stars does it have?”

“I don’t know I just know the food is great.”

With that parting statement we left after delivery; however the adventure was just beginning.

The Checkered Box Restaurant was not exactly what I would have pictured. The building itself looked as if a good gust of wind would blow it over. There were three spaces for semi’s to park in the parking (haha) lot. I was already having doubts about this place. The building was a dark brown, no trim and I did not think I wanted to eat in this place. We got out of the truck and walked to a back door that hung slightly ajar. I wasn’t sure if it was beckoning me inside or trying to warn me of food poisoning.

We strode into a bait and tackle shop; that was what the gentleman standing near the door said. I gave my husband one of those looks like: this is not a good thing a bait and tackle shop in a restaurant, this should be one of those adventures in culinary art that I just don’t want to know about.” The area where was almost all raw fish and tackle, not any place I wanted to eat. I don’t like to fish to begin with! The floor was partially dirt this did not bode well either. The steps we had climbed to get down here were loose concrete and wood planking of some sort. Good Lord what next?”

I did not have to wait long. We peered around the next corner; there was a huge black board with the selections written on it. This was 2001 not the forties, the doubts I had were being reinforced by the score. The place look like it had not been updated in the last fifty years and we were going to eat here? I looked around there were no tables, chairs, just standing room. Sitting the truck and eating was not my idea of a way to eat dinner. We had a table but the bed was on it so that was not an option. Then there was the German Shepherd in the truck that liked to share whatever we had. Gracious though she was; I did not want to share whatever this meal turned out to be.

I grumbled then thought maybe we were just in the wrong place: I could be hopeful. I asked the guy standing next to me if this was where the restaurant was, he chortled as he replied:

“Lady, this is the restaurant.”

“Er, I see.”

The gentleman ordered ribs, and sweet potato casserole. It sounded good to me. Then I asked my next dumb question of the day:

“Excuse me, but where are the sodas?”

“Round back in the cooler.”

Why was I here? I am a city kid not a rural one. When I go to an establishment that says restaurant I expect to sit down, enjoy my meal, have coffee with my meal. Normal everyday things when you go to a restaurant. Guess what? This was not a real restaurant it had food yes, it was on a side road that if you weren’t looking for it you would never find it type situation. Right about now I wished we had not found it. While I had been waiting a group of oil riggers came in; that gave me time to stall. They all ordered the ribs.

‘Hmm’ I thought maybe the ribs are okay that was before a big bug crawled across my foot. That was all I needed:

“Can’t we find somewhere else to eat?”

“No, the guy told me it is the only for seventy miles in the direction we have to go to pick

our next load.”

“Wonderful we have to eat in the truck, with the dog staring at us or better yet trying to

climb into my lap?”

“Do you want to wait another five hours to eat?”

“No.”

“Remember that place in Ohio? The one that we did not really want to go to but again

we had not choice?”

“Yes, the food was really good, the place was clean even if it leaned to one side.”

“Okay so maybe the food is just as good here.”

“You win we eat here.”

I was not a happy camper but then again I had no choice other that either eat here in the truck or wait five hours. Some choices those were. We stood waiting. Then this huge gentleman came in carrying a tray of? Whatever it was it was still moving. Having lived most of my life in the north I had no idea what a crawdad was. I asked him what they were and obviously they were crawdads. I still think they look like mini lobsters! That was when I discovered that people eat them. They are put into a boiling pot. I knew what I was not going to order.

Finally the oil rig crew were done ordering; two more people in front of us and then we could order. I thought I was hungry but after those crawdads I wasn’t so sure. I would have been happier if I had not seen or known what they were. The other folks ordered ribs. Since that was the only choice on the menu; it guess it was ribs for dinner. I was hemming and hawing not wanting to eat food from a bait and tackle shop that smelled like dead fish. I mean honestly, I am not that brave and the more the thought about it the worse things got.

We ordered two orders of ribs, french fries and sweet potato cassarole. We then proceeded out to the truck to eat and hope the dog was willing to share. We sat on the front seats; opened the styrofoam containers. The ribs smelled great. The meat was falling off the bones tender. The sweet potato cassarole was wonderful.

This was not a one star resturant but the food was excellent. We returned one more time. It is the a very well kept secret; long may it stay that way.