When I was a kid in Southern California in the 1970s, a great day was when my parents said, “We’re going to Farrell’s.”
Everyone reading who grew up near one of those faux-nostalgic ice cream parlors is nodding her head as she reads, I bet. (Or his.) For the rest of you, Farrell’s was a west coast chain of pretend-1890s ice cream parlors and pizza places, where the waiters wore red-striped vests and straw hats and big grins pasted on their faces. We ordered Reuben sandwiches and burgers with chili and cheese and pizzas with pepperoni, washed down with cream soda or Green Rivers. (Do you remember those? They were the exact color of toxic-waste dump water!) But the only real reason anyone went to Farrell’s was the ice cream sundaes. They had the archetypal sundaes: cold metal bowls, perfectly shaped scoops, a slice of banana, a swirl of chocolate sauce, and a cherry on top. I liked the Tin Roof, with Spanish salted peanuts drenched in hot fudge on top of vanilla ice cream. We were happy to get free sundaes on our birthdays.
However, I never allowed my parents to order the giant trough of a sundae, the one it took three waiters to carry to the table. They ran around the entire restaurant, shouting and whooping, as an alarm sounded. I was mortified for whoever ordered this monstrosity and the teenage boys who had to deliver it with aplomb. Plus, it had like 30 scoops of ice cream in it. I think the lucky recipient was supposed to bury his face in the treat and come up laughing. I almost didn’t want to go to Farrell’s because of this treat.
When we were in Iowa, we stopped for lunch at a placed called Hickory Park, in Ames. It was like a small version of Wall Drug in South Dakota and a Farrell’s. See the nostalgic walls? The happy waitresses? It had the same feeling as a Farrell’s — more of a place evoking an era than simply a restaurant.
Luckily, the waitresses didn’t have to wear pin-striped vests or pretend that they were Gibson girls. Even better, no one carried a trough of ice cream through the place at all.
Instead, Hickory Park offered us a calm slice of nostalgia and a list of shakes to order that made decisions difficult. Should we order a black licorice shake? Peanut butter? Butter rum? Who does butter rum shakes anymore? They also had a Green River shake. Wow.
In the end, I went for this cinnamon apple shake, in honor of my friend Sharon, who loves shakes and anything cinnamon. It was rich and thick, melting at the edges, with a lovely tug at the tongue when I tried to suck it up through the straw. This was a shake.
The centerpiece of my meal, however, was this smoked pork sandwich, without the bun. (Perhaps the most amazing thing to me about Hickory Park is that they have a separate gluten-free menu for those of us with celiac or gluten intolerance. Really? In little old Ames, Iowa? Hey fancy restaurants in big towns — you could learn from these folks.)
The pork tasted prominently of smoke in the first bite — that campfire smoke that sticks to your clothes long after the smores are done. But then, underneath it, the good taste of well-prepared pork. I didn’t miss the bun at all.
If we lived anywhere closer to Ames, Iowa, we’d probably go to Hickory Park. It’s not the most high-end cuisine. However, we’d take our daughter for special occasions and let her order smoked pork sandwiches and thick ice cream shakes.
And feel grateful that no one would be running by with a trough of ice cream and 27 maraschino cherries.
1404 S. Duff Avenue
Ames, Iowa 50010-0765
Phone: (515) 232-8940
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
I grew up in Michigan and we went to Farrells every year for birthdays. I LOVED that place. It’s closed now. Sad.
Hickory Park sounds like my kinda place. I don’t need high-end all of the time. One of my favorite BBQ places is in Talladega, AL , The Shack.
And speaking of good basic pork, I think we should talk about fried pork skins. I love them. LOVE THEM. Crunchy, salty, porky goodness. No carbs and gluten free. (Or at least I’ve never reacted to the plain Backen-etes from Frito Lay.)
I still have a soft spot in my heart for Green River. The Vashon Theater has it - or, at least, had it, haven’t been there in a while - and the best part was, it was just a giant jar of shockingly green syrup that they pumped into your cup and spritzed soda water over. Best soda ever. I found it at Fred Meyer the other day, in the bottle, and it just wasn’t the same.
Good, though.
Just not the same.
That is a favorite of anyone who has spent any time in Ames! I know I sure miss it. I am glad you got the chance to enjoy it. Come back and visit Iowa often. My pork producing family appreciates you
The smoked beef and pork ribs are fantastic!! I drive 90 minutes to go to this place because the food is so unbelievably good. The desserts are wonderful too. Make the effort to eat here (and when you are hungry)!
I grew up in Ames and my parents still live there. Either Hickory Park isn’t as good as it was when I was a kid or I’ve gotten spoiled by Texas style BBQ since moving south 10 years ago… I’d swear the sauce that Hickory Park uses is Cattleman’s that you can buy in 5 gallon buckets from Sam’s Club. Too sweet & too much liquid smoke flavor, and without the sauce the meat is a little dry. Add to that their new location is big, noisy and crowded, and it all rolls into a disappointment. They wouldn’t last long in Texas.