In just two meals we’d more than made up for our culinary wasteland of the previous few days. She took avocado toast to a whole new level by putting it on eggs benedict with some maple pepper bacon. I don’t know this Tanya, but I’d sure like to meet her. Topped with candied apples, pecans & apple butter, you would never know it was celiac-safe. Jim uncharacteristically had the gluten-free banana bread. It was Friday morning and it was packed, and after one bite of monkey bread we knew why. The restaurant’s only been around since 2012, but it had the feel of a place that had been there for ages. Patrick and Timirie Shibley named their diner Doo-Dah because they wanted to create a place with a laid-back vibe, and that’s what the Wichita nickname means (or so the story goes). The red stripes are virtue and honor and the white stripes are courage. The blue circle represents the sun and the white symbol in the center is a hogan, an American Indian symbol for a permanent home. This was the Wichita flag, and it was as ubiquitous as Chicago’s distinctive blue stripes and red stars are in the Windy City. We began with breakfast at Doo-Dah Diner, where the first thing we noticed was the giant mural of civic pride painted on the outside bricks. Strap in, because this was one wild ride. While this trip was just the two of us, Visit Wichita arranged our itinerary in FAM style and it was like jumping into a pinball machine of travel as we caromed from one stop to the next. Short for FAMiliarization, these are intense, immersive experiences that allow a group of travel media to see as much as possible in a short amount of time. I’ve been on a few FAM trips, so I’m used to cannonballing into a destination. I ordered an old standard, getting a Dirty McNasty made with vodka, olive juice, and beautiful bleu cheese stuffed olives. Being the crazy kids that we were, he went for a basic 007 made with vodka, gin, and vermouth. We opted for a seat at the bar and perused the list of 160 martinis. There was live music to serenade the cigar smokers on the enclosed patio. We skipped dessert because we were going to do date night right, so we headed to Old Town for a nightcap at Mort’s Martini & Cigar Bar. It was like we’d been living on lunch meat wraps and trail mix for the past week or something. Jim indulged in the cheese and spinach stuffed ravioli topped with lobster. We were in Kansas, so I had to get a steak, and that KC strip, aged for 21 days at nearby Creekstone Farms, was the stuff of which carnivore’s dreams are made. It was the most sophisticated dish we’d had since we’d left Elgin. We began with housemade burrata accompanied by roasted red peppers, pesto, and grilled crostini. This is part of our EPIC Southwest USA road trip from the Chicago-area to San Diego and back!ĭinner was downstairs in Fireside Grille, and as the name suggested, we sat next to the fireplace, a glass-enclosed window in the light-colored brick wall. Compound that with our exploration of the outdoors for the past week and getting gussied up sounded divine.įor the first time in a week I put on makeup, and for the first time in two I wore shoes that didn’t have laces or velcro. Oh, sure, we’d showered that morning, but after seven hours in the car we were in definite need of refreshing. Because this was a classy establishment, no one remarked on our disheveled appearance. Walking into the Wichita Marriott, we felt like actual Pig-Pen, swirls of dirt and grime clouding around us in the perfectly pristine lobby. On our drive through Arizona we’d felt like soggy versions of Pig-Pen, stalked by rain instead of dust clouds.
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