Holcomb's Custard Stand - Isom, Kentucky

Holcomb's Custard Stand - Isom, Kentucky

Happy Labor Day!  Welcome back to my little corner of the internet, where this time I found myself heading over to the small, unincorporated town of Isom, in Letcher County, Kentucky.  It was a random trip, not at all planned or anything.  Friday finally showed it's beautiful face, and I decided to make a quick trip over to Whitesburg and pop into Roundabout Music, just for a little something to do.  Afterward, I headed back in the general direction of Knott County, when I suddenly realized it was now officially Labor Day weekend, and in this part of the world, that means one thing...Isom Days.  I figured I'd stop in, if only for a few minutes, and see what was going on.


I walked around for a few minutes, looked at some crafts and listened to a few songs being played at the stage, and watched as they prepared for the now famous Isom Days Rodeo (seriously, everyone comes to this thing).  I was honestly pretty tired, and it was hotter than blue blazes, as it has been almost EVERY DAMN DAY since May.  If you find yourself disagreeing with that statement, then you're either a shut in with an exceptional air conditioner and no access to weather information, or you live on the Arctic Shelf somewhere, with no access to weather information.  It's been a scorcher. 


So, I figured I'd seen most of what the fair was offering that evening, and since it was around supper time, I would treat myself to a little something, it being Friday and all.  I saw this as a perfect opportunity to try something out that I'd heard so much about for so many years, but somehow never got to try myself.  Yes, you read that correctly...I live in the general area, and I've never eaten at Holcomb's Custard Stand.  There's no legitimate reason for this, and goodness knows I haven't purposefully tried to avoid it.  It just somehow never happened...until now. 

First approach.

Appearances can be deceiving, especially if you're the type of pretentious knob who turns their nose up and drives by such places.  This isn't some 4 star ball room with snobby waiters and fancy indoor plumbing, no sir.  This is the genuine article.  This is an authentic order-at-the-window and eat-where-you-can-sit Dairy Bar, and there aren't many left.  Anywhere.  Even here.  Holcomb's is one of the last privately owned "mom n' pop" type establishments of this type that I'm aware of.  It's a shame too, because many of my childhood memories involve visiting places like this and getting amazing food and service.  It's a dying industry, but this place stands defiant against the odds, just like many other businesses in Isom. 

There's clearly been many, many people served at this window.

I approached the above window, and a very nice young lady greeted me and asked me what I'd like.  Not wanting to sound stupid, I pretended to know what I wanted as I quickly scanned the hand written menus hanging in the front windows.  She knew I was full of it.  So, I kept looking, and looking at all the great menu items they had.  It made the decision very difficult.

Very difficult.

 


This is one of those places that, though small, has so many different options to choose from.  It's like a concession stand on steroids, and that's the hallmark of these types of places.  Great variety, low prices.  But when you're getting hungrier by the minute, it makes the task all the more daunting.

Must...resist....must....eat dinner first.

After the longest 3 minutes of my life, and probably the longest 3 minutes of that poor girl's life who very patiently waited on me to answer, I finally decided on something.  As I said, this wasn't simple.  But, when trying something new, I generally try to get some kind of signature dish, as good as everything else may sound.  I've heard various stories over the years about what's best here, but I've never heard anything about a signature dish of any type.  It's a free for all, but I finally noticed something that kind of stuck out to me.

I couldn't pass up something called an "Isom Burger", no matter the options.

The Isom Burger Box is a burger, topped with bacon, cheese, and a fried egg.  On the side, you get a big order of shoestring fries and coleslaw.  I opted for extra fries rather than slaw, because honestly, I'm not a fan.  I know that must be some form of 'Hillbilly blasphemy', and I'm sorry if it is, but it's the truth.  I just don't care for it.  Extra fries for me, all the way.  She took my order with a smile, and said it would be ready very shortly.  I then picked out a table.

Ok, the only table.

I sat there, and just took in my surroundings.  It was a beautiful start to the weekend, with the sun getting ready to set over a hill off in the distance.  I watched passers by, walking down the road, as the fair was only down the street about 500 feet or so.  So many kids and adults alike, just enjoying their time together at a small town festival.  You have to love that.  I could also hear a train, undoubtedly hauling some 'black gold' slightly off in the distance as well.  I was witnessing "Eastern Kentucky" in one collective spot, as I sat there, waiting on my order.  It was an honest revelation at that very moment.  I just kind of smiled.  After a mere 8 or 9 minutes, she called my name, and my order was ready.  $7.59 later, and I was more than ready to dig in and savor every bite.  Again, it has been a very long day, and I was starved out at this point.






  

Don't even act surprised.

 

Oh my...yes, and YES.

The smell was amazing.  I guess a big ole burger and a pile of fresh crispy fries can't smell any other way, but still, it was intoxicating.  I squeezed my ketchup out of my little packets, and was ready to chow down. 






 

YUM.

 

Crisp on the outside, soft in the middle.  The way God intended.

 

Check out those layers.....drool....

 

Ok last one, I promise.

The burger was fantastic.  The patty was nice and juicy.  It was the pre-pressed variety, but that's fine.  It was well seasoned and cooked nearly to perfection.  The bacon was as real as it gets.  Nice and thick, cooked thoroughly, and hit a nice middle ground somewhere between soft and crispy.  Perfect.  And the egg...ohh boy.  I was put off once upon a time at the thought of an egg being on my burger.  It just didn't sound good to me, not appetizing at all.  One day, I talked myself into it, and I never looked back.  It's an amazing flavor and texture combination, and I recommend it to anyone, especially if you had the same notions as I once had.  This one was no exception.  It was cooked perfectly, with only a very slightly runny yolk, just enough to give it moisture, and to release the flavor.  I was pleased.

The fries were great as well.  They were standard shoe string fries, but they were really good.  They were fried the right amount of time at the right temperature.  That isn't always an easy thing to do, and they nailed it. 

I enjoyed every bite, took in the scenery around me, and pondered on dessert.  And by "ponder", I mean "I'm definitely getting something but I have no idea what".  I walked back over to the window, and again was indecisive. 






 

Because yes, there's an entire other dessert menu separate from the above hand dipped ice cream one.  An already impossible task has now just reached improbable levels.

This wasn't going to be easy, and I sure wasn't going to skip out.  You can't go to a dairy bar and not get ice cream of some type.  It's a law.  I looked and looked, pondered and pondered.  Everything looked good, and as hot as it was, any of it was going to feel pretty good going down.  I just couldn't decide....that is, until I seen something.  I don't know how I saw it, because it isn't on the menu.  Somehow, I just knew.  I knew to look past the menu...through the glass.  That's when I saw it.  With thine own eyes and thine own heart, I saw it; something....












 

...extraordinary.

I could have cried.  It would have been silly, but warranted.  I could have laid down right there in that parking lot, with all of Letcher County walking past me, and just sobbed.  I just found, for the first time in decades, Superman Ice Cream.  I just found my childhood.  I just found Summer in the 80s.  I just found Saturdays at the old Hindman Mi-Dee-Mart.  I just found after school at the long gone Brinkley Dairy Bar.  I felt like Indiana Jones after he found the Arc. 

The world could have ended at this moment, and I would have had no regrets.

I savored every bite.  I sat there, and felt sorry for anyone not eating Superman Ice Cream at that moment in time.  I knew, at that moment, life was grand, and everything was going to be ok.  That's the power it wields.



Holcomb's Custard Stand is a gem hidden in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.  How I managed to miss this place for this many years is something I'll never know, and surely something I'll have to atone for later.  I very much enjoyed it.  I enjoy Isom in general, it's a neat little town with lots of small wonders, antique stores, and beautiful rustic views.  It's also just down the road from where current UFC women's superstar Jessamyn Duke was born and raised.  How's that for a little bit of trivia?


I've found another favorite eatery, right here, close to home.  It was right under my nose, and though I had always heard about it, I just never made my way over to check it out.  I'm glad I did, and I'm glad I can share some of these adventures with you, no matter where you may be.  I'm proud to be a Kentuckian.  We're a proud people in general, and many share my love for this area. 



Many may do so....but there's one in particular.  One person who has no qualms about laying it all on the line, and showing the world what we have to offer.  One person, who is always the first in line to shine a spotlight where so much darkness can sometimes lurk.  One person...that has graciously agreed to join me next time around.


Hopefully, she'll bring the Bourbon. 

The End of an Era - Smokey Valley Truck Stop, Olive Hill, Kentucky

Do you have any idea how many times I've seen this sign?  How many times my headlights have illuminated it at midnight, or 1 a.m.....maybe even 2 or 3 a.m?  It's incalculable.  What's even more amazing, is that I was never alone.  There was always a sizable group with me, and it was almost never planned.  More than once, there was an entire caravan of no less than 40 people.  Very few places have that kind of power.  The power to pull you 21 miles away from town, at the latest possible hour, with classes the next morning.  It didn't matter.  NONE of that mattered once our headlights hit that sign. 




I can remember being confused at first.  I was a younger lad who had just found his place and his clique at Morehead in the very first days of the 2000 Fall semester.  I thought I misunderstood at first, but I hadn't.  "A...truck stop?  Like, with gas and stuff?  Wha...why?  Olive Hill??  Where's that??"  I thought they were pulling my leg.  But they had all been before...just as the elders before them had introduced them, I was now getting the same treatment.  I had no clue what I was in for.  I had no clue my life was about to change.  I had no clue that for the next 5 years, what bonds I would make at those old wooden tables. 




The Smokey Valley Truck Stop is a staple of Morehead State University.  It isn't even in the same town, but for decades, college students, and of course the locals, have frequented this place with glee and anticipation.  Would you drive 20 miles out of the way for dinner?  Well, thousands of people have hundreds of times.  It's sensational, and I was looking forward to someday getting to share a place that not only has some of the best food I've ever eaten, but a place that me and my crew, along with I'm sure countless others, have a genuine connection to.  Note, that I said I WAS looking forward to doing this....until about a month ago...when I got the news.




On October 3rd, 2015,  this place will be closing its doors for the final time.  Upon hearing this, my heart sank, and I had to literally fight back tears.  This isn't the first time we have received this news, either.  A fire nearly gutted it in 2003 and it was forced to close for about 6 months, but it survived and bounced back better than ever.  In 2012, several of us had gotten word that it was going to close due to an issue regarding the water lines, and which entity had jurisdiction over them.  Again the issue was resolved.  So this time, we all had hope that maybe, possibly, it was just a rumor with similar details...but no. Not this time.  It was real.  It was happening.



Upon hearing the news, we gathered those of us who still remained in the general area for one last rendezvous.  This wasn't easy.  We're in our 30s, we have careers, families, and very little spare time.  What once would have been a spur of the moment outing with 30+ people was now, all these years later, reduced to less than 10 of us with 2 weeks of planning.  Yay for growing up.  But, it still happened.  We all drove separately.  Alone.  It gave each of us time to think about what we were doing, and WHY. 




When the above sign finally came into sight, for probably the 500th time, it presented a different feeling than it ever had before.  It was very somber...almost hopeless.












But then....once I hit the exit and immediately made that next famous right hand turn, I saw this.  I saw why I was here.  I suddenly remembered things I thought I had long forgotten.  I guess in a way, I had.

Then...there it was.  Very rare that I ever saw it in the daytime.  But the red shingles were always ever present.  The Smokey Valley Truck Stop.




We all met at relatively the same time, give or take 15 minutes.  Emotions were mixed, as expected.

Even the old crappy CB repair shop was giving me the feels.

We entered, barely a word spoken, and we just kind of looked around.  It was busy, as usual, but it's safe to assume that this time around, it was because word had gotten out about the upcoming closing. 

These people will later appreciate this picture, I'm sure of it.

So will they.

:)

If you haven't picked up on it yet, the Smokey Valley Truck Stop looks like...a truck stop.  The chairs and tables are made of wood, with a few smaller ones being the exception.  The decor is old Americana style, with hutches and plates adorning the walls.  The fire of '03 forced a slight remodel, but aside from a few superficial details, most of it still remains the same. 

"Most", not "all".  We've had our fair share of laughter at that one over the years.

The remainder of my company arrived shortly after I did.  We got our 'usual' table.  It was surreal to sit there, in the same place where so many meeting and conversations between us had once taken place.  we greeted one another, hugs and handshakes all around, when the server came over and handed out the menus.

Happiness soon took over.  Wait...what's that say towards the bottom?

Ohh yeah, that's right.  This place is so good it once made it on the Food Network.






Seriously.  Give it a watch.

THE greatest pancakes, omelets, and gravy n biscuits known to mankind.

THE greatest everything else known to mankind.

 Ordering is often difficult in general, but how on Earth do you decide what to get for your final meal?  I felt like I was on death row.  I half expected the waitress to bring me a cigarette and a blindfold.  I've had nearly everything on this menu at some point, and there is absolutely no possible way to make a choice like this.  do I go with breakfast?  Those pancakes that I've shamelessly stuffed my face with countless times?  The Taco Salad?  The world famous Smokey Valley Burger?  Could I even finish it if I tried it (again)?  No, my friends.  None of those would do.  After much thought and consideration, I came to the conclusion that only one meal would do.  Only one combination of culinary perfection could possibly be chosen under these circumstances.

I think I'm going to cry.

There's no doubt what so ever that this, in all it's glory, is my all time favorite thing to get at the truck stop.  I've ordered it more times than anything else.  As amazing as the other meals are, this one will put a smile on my face every time.  EVERY time.  What you're looking at here, are two hot dogs, on fresh soft yet toasted buns, with a home made chili sauce that has yet to be rivaled by anyone.  I mean ANYONE.  Skyline be damned.  Gold Star can suck it.  This is the real deal.  This is in-house, top secret recipe, made Guy Fereri from Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives do cartwheels in the parking lot, out of this world stuff.  I have no earthly idea what's in it.  I've asked in the past, and they wont tell me.  It's a combination of hearty and sweet with a hint of bold onion-y spice.  It's perfection on an all beef wiener, (which I'm pretty sure is deep fried).  To the left, you see something that is just as much a staple of this place as the aforementioned Smokey Valley Burger itself.  Those are fried potato skins topped with cheese and bacon, with a side of house made ranch dressing.  Real cheese, real ranch, and real bacon.  Not Fakeon.  BACON.  And if you've never had fried potato skins before, then do yourself a favor.  Go RIGHT NOW to the nearest place that you can get a potato.  Go to Walmart, Costco, your mom's house, that awesomely weird gas station down the road that sells chicken feed and that for some reason has a box of garden taters on sale in the middle of the floor for 25 cents a piece, wherever you can get one, go get one.  Bring it home, peel it, and throw the skins into a deep fryer for about 5 minutes.  Your life will change drastically.  They wont be nearly as good as they are here, though.  We need to be realistic.




That was only what I ordered.  What did everyone else order, you may ask?

You knew that was coming.  If you're at all familiar with this place, you know that actual odds of someone in a group NOT ordering the Smokey Valley Burger are astronomical.  It was a given.  Oh and look, more tater skins! 

Some home cooking just hit the mix.  Salisbury Steak, garden green beans, buttered sweet corn, and homemade mashed potatoes and gravy.  Holy cow.  Literally.  Anything else?

Oh.  Ohh dear.  What?
I don't even know.  This isn't on the menu.  I don't even know what it would be called even if it was on there.  Chris, you're a brave soul.  Let us know if you survived.




Anywho, back to my food.  The hot dogs, as I said, are on a fresh soft bun, with the actual wiener, I think, deep fried.  I know that sounds weird, and the more health conscious of you reading this probably just hyperventilating.  But, trust me.  It's wonderful.  It gives it a good 'snap' when you bite in to it. 

See?  Look at it.  LOOK.

I can't say anything more about the chili sauce that I haven't already.  I can tell you this though.  It's the perfect topper to this hot dog.  The combination of flavors in your mouth when you bite into this is the sort of thing that poets muse about, and causes great minds to wax philosophic.  It's that good. 

LOOK AT IT.

And those bacon-cheese tater skins I was gushing about earlier?

Honestly, what else can you say.

Nothing.  Nothing else can be added.

We chowed down.  We laughed.  We told stories of yesteryear.  We reminisced about friends who have passed on.  We talked about life.  Death.  All things in between.  We talked about where we are now, and where we once were.  We talked about where we will be in the future, long after this place falls to the ground. We talked about adventures and misadventures, midnight excursions to Lockeegee Rock, to the Mushroom Mines, to the Cave Run Spillway.  We talked about how all those things inevitably ended us right back here. We did it just like we always did before.  At our table. 

All the while "Jack and Diane" and "Chip Away at the Stone" played for the 11 millionth time on this jukebox.

And while Donkey Kong rolled his 11 millionth barrel down the ramp.

And while Chris ATE THE WHOLE THING. 

We pondered on dessert...for about 5 seconds.  Then we realized we were dumb for pondering because of course we were getting dessert.

Ladies and Gentlemen...the Smokey Valley Hot Fudge Brownie.

I could eat two...but I wont.

This bad boy is a fresh baked chocolate brownie, topped with shaved (yes shaved) real vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, steaming hot fudge, and a maraschino cherry.  It's as good as it sounds, and it's as good as it looks.  This is another perennial favorite of this place, and it's near impossible to avoid getting one.  Or, at least a bite of someone's, if you're already stuffed.




We sat there for nearly 3 hours.  None of us wanted to pull ourselves away, and bid farewell to a place that means so much to all of us, and to many more who unfortunately couldn't make it on this final adventure with us.  They were very much missed.  As we continued to trade stories of past and present, of jobs, of children, of friends departed, I couldn't help but to look back on things and simply smile.  Why else were we here if not to do so?  We've understood for many years now that this was more than just a 'truck stop' off the interstate in the middle of nowhere.  It's never been a question, really.  We all have a deep, almost spiritual connection with the very table we were sitting, and to the very walls holding the place up.  That's rare.  That's special.  That's the magic only a true college experience could possibly bring about all those years ago.  Perhaps we were all there, at that moment, for a greater reason.  Perhaps we weren't.  I do know, with confidence, that once we exit those doors, we're forever leaving behind a pivitol part of who we are. 

Of who we were.

      




I'm not even going to bother with the typical breakdown, or overall evaluation like I've done with my previous reviews.  There's no rating system in existence that can do this place justice.  No arbitrary number system that can quantify what we've experienced here over the years.  I'm not even sure if college students still frequent this place as they once did.  I honestly have no clue.  If they don't; if for some reason this place has been lost in translation over the years to the younger generation, I urge them to take an evening and make the trek out there.  I don't care how busy you are, or what you have planned.  Because right now, at this point, only one thing is certain.











The clock is ticking.

Stompin' Grounds Revisited - Morehead State University & Other Surprises

It was bound to happen eventually.

I almost didn't do it.  Not because of a lack of desire or nostalgic yearning, but because I simply can't find the right words.  How does one look back on such things...such places, and even attempt to put them onto paper?  How can such things be quantified or described?  In short - they can't.  There's no way to relay how looking at this sign makes me feel, or the memories it invokes.

 This is where I discovered who I was...

...and coming back isn't always as simple as loading up in the car and making the drive. 

I spent 6 solid years at this place, changing majors multiple times, hitting bouts of depression worthy of mention, while also relishing in the happiest moments of my life.  It was an ever-swinging pendulum.   "Turbulent" is the word that a lot of people use to describe their collegiate experiences.  I say no, because that word loses any actual meaning when you're 18 years old, you're in a near fatal accident, and 10 weeks later, you're thrust into a setting and a lifestyle completely foreign to anything you've ever witnessed before; unique in every way.  I was on crutches, unable to walk on my own, and there I was, thrown into a brick and mortar cracker box with 220 other people that I'd never seen before, from all over the planet, without air conditioning.  I had a suitcase, and a couple cardboard boxes full of food/decorations/school supplies, and that's it.  I was on my own, with my future at stake, and I couldn't even walk.  Hooray for change, right? 

That was in August, 1999.  Flash forward to May, 2005.  I graduate with a BA in Advertising/Public Relations, with a double major in Philosophy.  I was nowhere near the top of my class, but by God, I made it.  All the things that happened in between, is MY story.  If we truly are the sum of our experiences, then a warrior am I.  In such a unique, often bizarre, fast paced environment, it really is who you know overshadowing what you know.  I was fortunate enough to have been surrounded, at almost any point after the first year, by the most amazing people I've ever known.  So many came and went...so many.  Not many understand.  Not many ever will.

 I am who I am because of these insane, rewarding experiences.  With every spur of the moment road trip, every 3 a.m. trip to Lockeegee and Smokey Valley, every exploit at The Circle, every wacky Spring Break excursion, every kind of person with every insane personality type all across the spectrum, every party that you're not suppose to know about, every single type of misadventure you could possibly think of...those things were my mold.  They forged me out of metaphorical steel just as much as learning marketing strategies, Maslow's Hierarchy, and the Socratic Method did within the walls of the classroom.  At age 34, I can honestly sit here and admit those things with confidence.  Have I changed over the last decade?  Of course.  We all grow...we all mature.

Thank God.

It's always a pleasure to return to a place which does hold so many memories, and revives so many emotions.  I don't make it back very often, but when I do, the good memories certainly win the day against the bad ones.  This time was no different, and I found my self giggling to myself quite often.  Something as simple as a flowerbed in this place has that kind of power.




 

Parking beside this particular building has a similar effect.

We arrived (yes, we) on campus this past Saturday at around 2 pm.  I actually found a parking spot on campus, which has happened approximately 7 times out of infinity.  But anyway, remember how hot it was that day?  Add about 10 degrees to that.  It was miserable.  We were no more than 5 minutes into our journey around campus, and we found ourselves dripping with sweat and having to stop for a rest.  Not even flashbacks of sleigh riding down Eagle Lake Hill, or ice cream socials on Mignon Hall's patio could cool me down.  I'm not sure what the actual temperature was, but since "Hell" isn't an official temperature recognized by the NOAA, I wont even speculate. 




 

A surreal sight, regardless.

We walked around for awhile, and were even able to go into a couple of the academic buildings.  I'm assuming they were open to be cleaned and organized for the Fall semester.  We were able to duck into Rader Hall first, just to cool off.  It still has the same smell as it did 16 years ago.  It was almost trippy, and what they say is true; smell really is the sense most closely linked to memory.

I guess that would make "sight" the second closest.  This has been here since 2000...way to be on top of things, guys.

We then exited, and walked on through the heat, which is now magnified because of the air conditioning in Rader Hall.  We knew we wouldn't make it far without having to cool ourselves again, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to snap a few pictures of the lawn in front of the library.

A statue modeled after a real life girl that I'm actually friends with.  Hi Ruby!

The moon, in scaled down approximation to the Earth.  This has been added since I've been away. 

I've often wondered...and soon, we'll all know.

 

I stood in this very spot on September 12th, 2001, and listened to one of the greatest speeches I've ever heard.

After marveling over a lot of these artifacts, we ducked into Camden-Carrol Library to marvel some more, and of course, to cool off.  Once we exited there, we went down to ADUC and looked around there for a few minutes.  I was glad to see Taco Bell and Chik-Fil-A still there, it was pretty great!  Of everything else that has came and went in that building, the fact that those two things are still holding strong, is pretty amazing and in a way, humorous.  True Americana among many nations.

Many, many nations.

It's always good to see how an older building can be redesigned and re-imagined to fit into the 21st century.  ADUC is certainly no exception.  As I walk around admiring the modern architecture, vivid flashbacks enter my mind.  I'm just astounded at how much it has actually changed.

Very astounded.

We rounded Lappin Hall and the Combs building, and took the back route to complete the loop around main campus.  As we passed the backside of Ginger Hall, a distant structure began coming into focus...

West Mignon...my home 2000-2002.

Woah...talk about changes.  How about that brick siding?  And the large cheesy, cursive "West Mignon" letters that use to don the top front of the building?  Gone.  Very modern, and a very cool look.  I hope current "Westerners" appreciate what they have.  And I hope their memories are just as good.

But wait...what's that behind it?

It's....beautiful.

Mignon Tower.  My home from 2002-2005.  No words can do this building justice.  No amount of embarrassing pictures, no amount of [thankfully scarce] videos, and no amount of my ramblings will ever get anyone who wasn't there to understand.  This wasn't just "home"....this was LIFE.  I've joked since back then, that I should have kept memoirs, and should have eventually wrote a book based on them, regarding my time there.  Perhaps I should have, but still, would it have done it justice?  Probably not.


As I gushed and reminisced, the heat was getting to be unbearable.  We had a 10 year old with us, and she was literally beginning to get sick.  So, we decided to take a short cut back to my car to finally rest for a little bit and relax.  As we limply hobbled back, I marveled at the rest of the campus off in the distance.  At the new Wellness Center, at the new Science Center, at the ROTC training structure.  At the parking lot where the God-awful Waterfield Hall use to stand.  At Eagle Lake.  I was amazed at the progress that has been made just in a few short years to make MSU truly a top contender among public universities.  I was almost jealous at how much better these kids have it than I did, but hey, those hardships were all part of the true college experience.  They help you build character and aid you in being thankful for the little things in life.  I can only hope the next generation gets that. 


We piled back into my car, and headed off campus, thankful for cool air against our faces.  Our adventure was done....








Ok, it's totally NOT done.






Any guesses where we went next?  Any idea at all?












Perhaps........food?

Ohhh HELL YES

If you haven't already squealed and jumped out of your chair, then you're probably unfamiliar with this establishment.  For shame.  This, my dear friends....this is where magic happens.  This is where friendships are forged, paths are taken, and destinies are fulfilled.  Ok so I might be embellishing a little bit, but it's still a staple of the University, and a hallmark of the town itself.  It's some mighty good eatin' for sure, and I'm giddy as well as honored to finally be able to introduce you to this place in this capacity.  I proudly present to you....Pasquale's!



Part of the appeal of this place has always been how basic it is.  It's a true college town legend in its own right, because it never tries to be anything it isn't.  You go to the counter, order, go get your own drinks out of the fountain, and have a seat while it's being made.  A server brings it to you, you indulge, you get your own refills, you pay, and you go home.  Simple enough, right?  In a town where so many business and restaurants have came and went over the years, something we use to often joke about, this one stands firm and defiant.  It's very existence also seems to be shrouded in mystery.  There's no real 'story' about how this place came to be.  There's no hand-me-down oral traditions or any legendary tales to tell.  No origin story.  It just simply 'is', and no one has ever seemed to question that. 



We walked in, and that omnipresent, ever familiar smell hit my nostrils like a 1000 mph bullet.  I looked around, and just tried to take everything in.  This is another instance where a million memories has hit me all at once and I can't even hardly form a coherent sentence. 

Main entrance, left side, approximate seating 120-140 people.

The good ole jukebox with the same songs from the 90s, and an arcade cabinet of RC Pro-Am.  Life needs nothing else.

The ordering counter.

The still nameless unofficial mascot.

The grueling process of choosing what to order begins here...

If you haven't figured it out yet, Pasquale's is an Italian-American type joint.  For an undetermined amount of time, it has built a reputation and prided itself on having some of the best hoagies, subs, salads, pizzas, calzones, chicken fingers, pastas, and other various goodies, in the area.  It's always a debacle trying to figure out what to stuff your face with.  Don't think about trying to count calories, either.  Your head will explode.




Cleanliness:
After a few minutes of flipping through the menu, we finally decided on what to order.  I placed them for us, I got our drinks (obligatory Mt. Dew, sweet tea, and water, respectively) and we sat while enjoying each others company.  I took a quick look around, and noticed that it was still a very clean restaurant.  For a dive in a college town, that's a real accomplishment.  Everything was wiped down and well organized.  some of the tables and chairs were starting to wear from age, but in a place like this, it adds to the charm. 

Overall Cleanliness Score:  4/5




Ambiance:
There was top 40 type music playing in the background.  I think it may have even been the campus radio station, but I'm not completely sure.  The temperature was thankfully nice and cool, and the smell of all the great food filled the air.  There were several other groups in there eating as well, but they were mainly in the other, right hand section of the restaurant.  So, it wasn't over crowded at all.  Even if it had been, the tables are spread out far enough that you're not in each others faces.  There's also a couple TV's in the other section to watch games on and such.  Not a whole lot to speak of in terms of decor, but still a very cool atmosphere overall. 

Overall Ambiance Score:  4/5






Food Quality:After about 7 or 8 minutes, the server brought out our appetizer.  What he sat down in front of us on our table is hard to describe.  I've tried before, but there are just simply not enough adjectives or nouns in our language to give proper justice.


 

Pasquale's cheese fries!!!!!  OMG!!!!!! *#$%&#$#!!!

See?  It just doesn't work.  There are no accurate words.  Case closed.

Seriously though, if you've never had these, then you've never had cheese fries.  Even if you think you have, you haven't.  If you HAVE had these, then you're probably licking your screen right now.  Which is fine, if you're at home on your laptop.  If you're in public on your phone or tablet, then you're probably going to get some raised eyebrows...unless they too have had Pasquale's cheese fries, in which case they'll understand completely.


They're fried until they're golden and crispy, topped with cheddar jack cheese, crisped real bacon (not that fake crap), and scallions.  They're then BAKED for about 2 minutes, to make them even crispier and gooey at the same time.  When you bite into them, you come across another surprise.  House made ranch dressing is on the bottom layer, underneath the fries.  Most places just give you a cup of it for dipping on the side.  not here.  Nope.  It's baked right in, and it creates a flavor that has so far been unmatched anywhere else that I've been.  Needless to say, they were gone within a few short minutes.

Just awesome.

The server then brought out our main courses, which were two hand made house calzones, and a chicken strip dinner.

It's as big as your head, no joke.

Golden brown chicken strips, french fries, house garlic bread, and house coleslaw. 

I guess this is a good time to mention that any type of bread product in this place, is hand made fresh daily, and bought from a bakery that is literally next door.  It's as fresh as fresh can get, and you can see it as well as taste it with every single bite. 

EVERY...SINGLE...BITE...

The house calzones are made from the fresh dough I just mentioned, and filled with fresh mozzarella cheese, thin chopped deli ham, and a special white sauce that is difficult to describe.  I call it a 'Parmesan sauce', which is probably wrong.  It's amazing though, and it binds everything together quite amazingly.


Service:
We all thoroughly enjoyed our dinner, and were amazed with each bite at how good and fresh everything was.  Our servers were friendly and attentive.  They were very helpful with anything we may have needed.  Just college boys trying to make it, and I respect that.  We left a nice tip as we paid at the counter. 


Overall Food Quality Score:  4.5/5


Overall Service Score:  4.5/5

Do you think we went to the bakery next door, just out of sheer curiosity?

Duh.

We just couldn't resist.  We walked in, and were quite impressed with what we seen.  I tried to capture the magic in pictures.  We were only there for about 5 minutes and far, FAR too full to even consider getting anything, which is unfortunate, because everything in there of course looked amazing.

I dig it!

Very nice!

We'll call it a "study area".

Ohh dear...

Bread, bread, and more bread.  And doughnuts.

Too many goodies to mention!

Everything looked and smelled amazing, so hopefully sometime in the future when Pasquale's hasn't completely kicked my butt, I'll actually try something.  But, I felt good knowing and actually getting to see where the folks at the restaurant get their dough from.  Very cool!


We exited and we were starting to get tired.  The heat combined with eating our weight in doughy, cheesy goodness was starting to take its toll on us.  However, we just couldn't leave town without going to the world's greatest Vendor's Mall.  It's located where the old Walmart use to be at the edge of town.  It's a great time killer, lots of cool stuff to look at, and a great way to spend your money wisely and constructively.

Because everyone needs a Queensryche box set.

This entire trip was a real treat for me.  I'm one of those nostalgic-minded people to begin with, so getting to go back to visit a place that means so much to me on a personal and even spiritual level, with people I love, it's a feeling like none other.  I've had trouble finding the right words for this one...but that's ok.  Sometimes words aren't enough.  I could never even begin to fit every memory on a single blog.  I could write entire books on just a few events, so the idea of even trying to elaborate on any of them in just a few paragraphs is absurd, and it would almost be a disservice to the people who helped make that time and those memories so special.  So, for all you former Morehead folks who may be reading this, thanks for the memories, and I hope you enjoyed this little stroll.  For you current Morehead folks, school starts back in just a few weeks.  Make the best of it!  My stompin' grounds are your stompin' grounds! 












And I didn't forget about Pasquale's, either!  They get an aggregate total of:

4/5 Old-School Beakers!!

Thanks for reading, and check back often for updates on The Hillbilly Stomp!







For more info on Morehead State University, enrollment opportunities, etc., click here.

Check out Pasquale's website here.