Hi,
It's been a long while, since I deadheaded to NJ/NY via I-80. I made the trip there and back over the last week.
On the way out, I drove 787 miles in 13 hours and 15 minutes. This does not allow a lot of time for stopping for comfortable meals. It was a race against my need to settle down and sleep. Leaving at 10:45 am in the morning did not allow too much wiggle room.
Our first stop was at an Indiana oasis. While the food options have improved over Hardees-only, I made a bad initial choice: Sbarro's baked ziti consisting of overcooked noodles and a tasteless tomato-cream sauce (my guess). Grudgingly finished it.
The no man's land between the Indiana and Ohio tollways has but one exit. There is only a Subway with a very excellent ratio of door to restroom path: just about at the door. Ordered a six-inch tuna salad sandwich with onions and tomatoes chopped to order, plus olives and shredded lettuce. On one-side of bread they squeezed on a Ceasar dressing and the other side an onion vinaigrette. Cut into quarters, it was an easy sandwich for Mom to eat while I drove.
Note for the future: there is a large truck stop under construction at this Ohio no man's land on the western border. This location may be more lively in the future.
The last stop was the Ohio no man's land between the end of the Ohio toll road and the Pennsylvania border. Yes, it was Waffle House to the rescue for the only sit down meal of a hashbrown bowl with scrambled eggs and sausage. Next door was cheap fuel, which I adore.
On the return trip, we once again hit Waffle House for waffles, hashbrowns, fried eggs, grits and bacon.
Our last stop was the very best of our drive, which upset 'the lady in the box' aka GPS. Instead of taking the Skyway back, we diverted to I-94 to exit at Grant Ave in Gary, Indiana. The canary yellow trailer is the siren call to many a Balkan long haul truck driver criss crossing this country and my family.
A visit to
Balkan Grill—Gary Truck Stop with Top-Notch E European Food was what kept me going all day. It was the first time for my Dad, who already had eaten their food from many hand deliveries by me.
As much as I love the food, I knew my Dad would love the clientele: all those Eastern European long haul truck drivers. He could discuss the Balkan war with those who knew what he was talking about. My Dad even learned about a Serb who was a friend of President Wilson, but never knew the connection before.
I ordered the food, handed him the receipt and sat in the car with Mom to wait. We could see his hand in the trailer's window making gestures. I knew he was in full war-story revelry aka having the time of his life.
After 20 minutes, he finally made it back to the car. Mom and I decided to eat when we got home. Dad plowed into his meal of Rostiljske Kobasice, spicy beef and pork sausages stuffed into lamb casings. I ordered another for me, because I knew I don't like sharing this meal. My Mom later enjoyed her pljeskavica, a cheese stuffed seasoned ground meat.
For years, we would exit and return to Chicago with a visit to Jim's Original for a Polish. I have a feeling, my Dad may want to include at least one visit to Balkan Grill, an oasis for my family and all those long haul drivers.
Regards,
Cathy2