At 15:47 on September 5, 2017, the crew of Restaurant Fiction goes on a Mission from God all along the path to Hell. That’s a 31-hour straight shot from Los Angeles, California. A major accident is in Nevada and road construction starts from Colorado all the way up to Hell itself. Are these detours a blessing or a curse? When the fate of the world, universe, and even supernatural is at stake, it is a little bit of both.
Healthy and hedonism do not go together. Therefore, rabbit food is a no-go. Soda pop and Ding Dongs in the AM. M & M’s once in a while. Lunch is beef jerky and beer. Taquitos, frozen chimichangas, and burritos thawed in the truck stop’s microwave are dinners.
California to Utah is corn syrup heaven. Every single product bought consists of the au-natural stuff. Chili cheese fries is breakfast in bed. Motels don’t have fancy shmancy room service. One has to be proactive in doing the job on their behalf. Utah to Colorado, the trip gets a little hotter. The gourmet beef jerky joints, bacon cheeseburger roadhouses, rib shacks, and pie places are every five to 15 exits. Biggerson’s, Connor’s Diner, Fat Mack’s Rib Shack, and Harvelle’s Roadhouse are the notable ones.
Bathroom business is done inside the jerky stores and express hotels. The budget we have doesn’t have room for anything above a one-star. We pretend we own the place when we walk in. That’s Restaurant Fiction’s bathroom policy wherever we go.
Apple pie America is best in the Midwest. It’s a special place where the pie is like Eden’s temptation. In the good months, fruit pies cool on the windowsill. Diners advertise the cream ones. Unfortunately, pies are not reviewed because of lack of time and stomach space. Cake is always the sloppy second substitution, which is not a bad thing.
Bacon cheeseburgers are dummy proof food. Fatty beef upon fatty pork belly in between a bun. These aren’t fast food burgers, but are the greasy essentials along the I-80.
Charlie Daniels says that the Devil went down to Georgia. Restaurant Fiction says he went to Hell and made an excursion with us through Chicago for some deep-dish, fried pickle chips, bacon wrapped hotdogs, cronuts, and Mexican spread.
How does one stay fit consuming the unhealthy last meals on the road? The solution doesn’t come from Dante. Restaurant Fiction might just have to drive back to Hell to figure it out.
ROAD TRIP TO HELL
ATMOSPHERE: Ma and Pa salt-of-the-earth people of all ages wine and dine the traveler in their Impala. Some are more hospitable than others.
SERVICE: Usually fast and efficient. They want to make a good impression to the passerby. Sometimes, they don’t like the newcomer in their town.
SOUND LEVEL: Calm and eerie, as if something or someone is always watching over you.
RECOMMENDED: Bacon cheeseburgers and the pie.
DRINKS AND WINE: You name it; every pit stop across America has it.
PRICES: 35 cents - $20.00