T's Travels

Josephine's Downtown, Lancaster, PA

I heard the name Josephine

It came to me in a dream

—Frank Turner

(Not really, but these days I’ll use pretty much any excuse to quote Frank Turner.)

 

Husb and I are hitting another anniversary and so wanted to celebrate with a nice dinner out. We often go to Blue Heron in York but I was in the mood for something different, a place we hadn’t yet tried. We settled on a local place that has had rave reviews and a menu we could agree on. But when I went on Open Table to make a reservation, something else—a familiar name—popped up. Josephine’s!

For years Husb and I would make the trek to Marietta for a lovely Country French meal at Josephine’s. When the new chef came in, we didn’t mind one bit and continued to go for special occasions. When it closed, we missed it.

So to see the name again this week? Surely, it must be . . . and it is! Right in the heart of Lancaster City and serving contemporary American food. This was meant to be—even though it was an hour’s drive (and at rush hour), we had to go.

One complaint people often have about restaurants in cities is “where do we park?” That’s not a problem at Josephine’s Downtown—it is next to a large public parking lot. Couldn’t be more simple.

Sometimes you can just feel that good things are coming and I certainly did when I saw the elegant exterior of the restaurant. Once inside, we were greeted with a smile and led to our table. Because I had selected “anniversary” on the Open Table reservation, not only did everyone wish us a happy anniversary, but when we opened our menus there was a personal card saying it as well!

I’d looked at their Facebook page so I already had an idea of what I was going to order, but Husb didn’t. As I looked over the menu, though, I wavered. So many things looked so good. Black cod? Risotto? Duck breast? The decision was not going to be as easy as I thought.

We started with wine, a lovely Cabernet Sauvignon for me and an absolutely incredible Old Vine Zinfandel for him. For an appetizer, Husb ordered the Warm Cauliflower and Barley Salad (roasted butter beans, herb emulsion, lemon vinaigrette, radish, celery leaves, shaved fennel, raisins) without the lemon vinaigrette (because he prefers me to be the only zest in his life). It was seasoned so well he didn’t miss the dressing at all.

His entrée was the braised short rib (butternut squash custard, roasted pearl onion, roasted chanterelle, black garlic demi, togarashi, micro basil, micro lemon balm). The short rib absolutely fell apart with a fork—divine would be a good word for it. He doesn’t like mushrooms either but he sampled the chanterelle after giving me most of them and was sorry he had let them go. Is it possible we have found a mushroom he will eat?

After all my considerations, I went back to what I had thought I would order. I started with the Caesar salad (baby romaine, rosemary bread crumbs, parmesan). It was simple, not overly dressed, excellent. And then I had something everyone who doesn’t have a seafood allergy should have: the Butternut Squash Bisque (king crab, spiced pepita, white chocolate powder, cilantro pudding, chive blossom, micro cilantro). I had seen the picture of this online (the picture I’m using) and it called my name. They serve you the bowl with the crab, etc., in place, and then pour the cream over it all. Presentation counts but even if they hadn’t done that, it still would have been a dream (just like the name Josephine). This is the soup I will want every time I go back. Because you know I will.

We ordered tarts for dessert but before they arrived we were served flutes of champagne to toast our anniversary! What a nice surprise. When we were first married, it felt like every time we turned around someone was handing us champagne to celebrate; this little touch took me right back to that.

My tart was the Apple (green apple, Calvados custard, apple honey glaze) with a little scoop of caramel ice cream on top. Husb had the Chocolate Pecan (orange sassafras cream, micro mint) but switched the orange sassafras cream out for coconut ice cream because, well, orange (plus all ice creams are made by the restaurant).

I can’t tell you when we’ve had a better dining experience. We’ve had some very good ones over the years, including in Philadelphia and DC, and this one has made it into the top five of all time list. Part of our conversation during dinner was (a) figuring out which of our friends will want to know about this place and (b) when would we be coming back. Because you know we will.

 

The Millworks, Harrisburg, PA

Who doesn’t love a good brunch? Mixing breakfast foods with lunch foods, a little cocktail, a little coffee—genius! And if you add in a little shopping and a visit to a museum, it’s perfection. No, I was not in Philadelphia or New York or even Baltimore. I was in Harrisburg, yes, the capital city of Pennsylvania, the quiet little place (at least when there are no elections and the Farm Show is over) in the middle of the state.

Miss C wanted to come to the ’Burg to see the Ansel Adams exhibit at the Susquehanna Art Museum (hurry, it ends January 21) and of course we wanted a meal. She is my “I’m going to ___ city, what are the good restaurants?” friend because she always knows the best. But she left this choice up to me. Harrisburg is full of good brunch possibilities and I was having trouble choosing until I talked to another friend, who said, “The Millworks.” She and others had been recommending the Millworks to me for a few years, it was just a couple of blocks from the museum, it was a great suggestion. “Best Bloody Marys,” she also said but that fell on deaf ears (not my thing—give me a mimosa anytime).

Easy to find (actually, almost anything in Harrisburg is easy to find), the Millworks is next to the Broad Street Market (oldest farmers market in the country!). Free parking (yea!). Industrial interior with a lot of recycled materials (read the “About Us” for the full story).  Even with the high ceiling it didn’t seem terribly loud (but this was brunch, I know, not a Friday night after-work crowd—I would assume it’s hopping then). Mimosas, anyone?

The menu made it hard to choose—numerous options out of the ordinary--but in the end I went with the scallops and grits (New Jersey Day Boat scallops, stone ground grits, arugula, poached egg). Miss C had the country fried chicken and sausage gravy biscuit (house made buttermilk biscuits, cream sausage gravy, Green Ridge Acres free-range chicken, bourbon-maple syrup). Next time I’m going for the smoked brisket tacos . . . Servings were generous but not enormous (kudos for that!). And I had apple cobbler for dessert.

Usually my reviews end here, right? Well, not this time! The Millworks is not only a restaurant and brewery, it’s also an artists’ community. Want pottery, jewelry, paintings, silkscreened clothing? They’ve got it all. What is not restaurant in the building is divided up into small studios for artists to work and sell their works. Not every artist was in while we were there but we did get to watch a potter at the wheel and talk to a jewelry designer.

When we had seen everything we could, we moved a few blocks down the street to the Susquehanna Art Museum for the Ansel Adams exhibit. His early works are on display in this former bank building; you can see the beginning of what became his iconic photographic style.

One last stop before we said our goodbyes—down Third Street to the Midtown Scholar, Harrisburg’s large, independent bookstore, where Miss C picked up a copy of Madeleine L'Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time and we both admired Lair of the Lion: A History of Beaver Stadium, written by Lee Stout and Harry H. West  (which I had the pleasure to edit last year but hadn’t yet seen in print).

And all of this in Harrisburg, PA! There are many other businesses in Midtown (e.g., see my Yellow Bird Café review) but you need to explore to find them. You can always get a good sampling by going to Third in the Burg. And  a great way to stay informed is to subscribe to The Burg, a real local newspaper—they will let you know what’s going on . . .

Atlanta, GA

I don’t like traveling without doing some research ahead of time—where am I going? What is there that is interesting to see? Where can I find local food? This time I was headed to a conference in Atlanta, GA, a place I have only previously seen from the airport. But I had had no time to read up on anything so I was flying blind. As we were getting close to landing, I asked my seatmate, who has lived in Atlanta for 26 years, where she would recommend I go to eat. She suggested The Varsity, “a landmark, a greasy spoon,” she said, “near your hotel.” Is that an endorsement or not? I couldn’t say.

I rode the shuttle with two women who were very excited to be in Atlanta. As we passed a restaurant, one said to the other, “Oh that’s Pitty Patty’s. Gloria told us about it, remember?” Then it hit me. Of course Atlanta would have references to Gone with the Wind! What she was referring to was Pittypat’s Porch, a restaurant specializing in Southern food since 1967. I was hoping to have a Southern meal before I left town at the end of the week; maybe I would go there. . . .

But not that first night. My hotel was right on the Georgia Tech campus and so I ended up at the Cypress Street Pint & Plate for dinner. It was hot and we ate on the patio. The sweet potato nachos sounded interesting, as did the smoked brisket mac and cheese (in cooler weather perhaps), but I wound up with the house-smoked brisket melt (cheddar, caramelized onions, pickles, mustard bbq). It came very large and already stabbed; the mustard bbq sauce was very different from the red sauces I usually see, and it went very well with the beef. What went very well with the meal was my Illusive Traveler Shandy—perfect on a hot day.

Day 2 brought a trip to the Georgia Aquarium, where I watched whale sharks being fed, and the Center for Civil and Human Rights, which focuses on the civil rights movement between 1954 and the late 1960s. Watching newscasts about Martin Luther King Jr’s assassination brought back many memories of 1968 for me. I asked the docent if they had anything about Daisy Myers and Levittown, but he said the focus was on what was happening in the South. So, with Charleston never far from our thoughts, we saw displays on the four little girls from the Birmingham church, the lunchcounter sit-ins, the March on Washington, and so much more.  

For dinner that evening someone suggested a restaurant just across the street from our hotel: The Spence. As a friend would say, what’s not to like? Unique appetizers? Got ‘em! Small plates? Yay! Varied enough menu that I considered going back for my final night? Absolutely! (and I still regret that didn’t happen!) Drinks? Why of course! The wines are listed as either “Tried and True” (meaning they serve it regularly) or “Leap of Faith” (they thought it might be good but can’t say for sure that you will like it). I started with a Pancho Villa cocktail, for which there are many many recipes online; this one had pisco, whiskey, and baked cherries. It was heavenly.

For food I ordered the house ricotta with local tomatoes, pea shoots, mint, and chili flakes (pictured above--it’s under “snacks” on the menu) and the Georgia shrimp with passion fruit, melon, fennel, radish & jalapeno lime vinaigrette “small plate.” Servings were perfectly portioned so we all went for dessert—in my case the old-fashioned semifreddo, with orange cake and bourbon anglaise (very light, very pleasant). Favorite meal from my visit by far.

The next two days were all meetings and conference food. Not complaining—learned a lot from speakers and colleagues. I never did get my Southern meal, but I did hear photographer Dan Winters speak and see some of his work; I recommend his new book, Road to Seeing. We were in the historic Academy of Medicine for Dan's talk--above our heads as we walked in was the chandelier featured in Gone with the Wind. I'll admit I'm not a big fan, but my sister and a friend are so I sent them a picture of it!

On my last evening, I vowed to get a little tourist-ing done. My hotel was not far from the Fox Theatre where I thought Gone with the Wind had premiered (turns out it was closed by then!). It is, however, a gorgeously restored theater and I wish I had been there on a day they give tours.

From the Fox, I walked a few blocks to The Varsity, that “greasy spoon” that had been recommended to me on the plane. The “world’s largest drive-in,” The Varsity has been in business since 1928 and Georgia Tech fans pack the place before games. I was there at about 7:30 on a weekday evening and the place was teeming with customers. I stopped at the gift shop for a t-shirt and a free paper hat like they wear behind the counter.

Just as I thought my tourist-ing was over and I headed back toward the hotel, I saw rising up in front of me a large Olympic-like torch, right in the middle of a parking lot next to the interstate. Seems it’s a local boondoggle, left over from the 1996 Olympics. Would have been cool to climb it, but these days it’s all closed up.

The next morning I decided to take a little walk before our breakfast and meetings. This time I headed north, through business and residential neighborhoods that melted into one another, to the home of Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone with the Wind. Of course it was not open (after all, I was there at 8 a.m.) but I took a picture anyway. It looked out of place among the other, more modern buildings.

If I had had the time to research all this before coming to Atlanta, I might have planned better. I might have had that Southern food. I might have even rented a car to see this. But alas. However, some excellent food, a new t-shirt, a lot of great professional contacts, and more ideas to improve my research magazine than I can possibly accomplish . . . I really can’t ask for more than that.  

 

 

Char's at Tracy Mansion, Harrisburg, PA

I most recently wrote about my experience at a restaurant that I loved, one that had moved and changed since my last visit seven years ago. This past weekend I went to another restaurant, one I loved, that has also both moved and changed.

Husb and I discovered Char’s Bella Mundo in Shipoke, a Harrisburg neighborhood near the river, about four years ago. It quickly became one of our top “special occasion” restaurants. Like the Blue Moon in York, it was the first floor of an old house, bringing Philadelphia to my mind. The food was fabulous and the service was probably as good as we’ve ever had. Never fussy, never overbearing, well paced (on the slow side, which is refreshing), and Char herself always visited each table. I always felt like she was sincerely interested in each guest having the best experience.

As anyone familiar with Harrisburg knows, the Susquehanna River flows on the west side of the city and sometimes decides it needs to visit the city itself. Shipoke is probably one of the most flood-prone areas and Char’s place was under water more than once, the last being Tropical Storm Lee in 2011. It was time to move.

Her new place, Char’s at Tracy Mansion, graces Front Street right along the Susquehanna, but on much higher ground. When Husb and I walked in, the sun was setting on the West Shore—what a beautiful view. This was our (very late) anniversary and (early) Valentine’s Day dinner. I had tried to make a reservation on Open Table but it showed nothing before 8:30 pm. So I called and they managed a table for us at 5:30—a little early to eat but we got to see the sun set.

Dinner was every bit as good as it ever was in Shipoke. The attention to cocktails can make a guest feel festive right from the start (I loved my Old Fashioned). Husb had the appetizer special—alligator hushpuppies!—which came with French fries and could easily have been a small plate entree. I ordered the baby spinach salad (roasted butternut squash, crimini mushrooms, sunflower seeds, orange segments, blood orange dressing), which we shared. It’s on the regular menu and I would order that again and again.

For our entrees, Husb had “Duet of Domestic Lamb—chop and merguez sausage, autumn harvest orzo, roasted garlic oil, mustard verte,” but without the mustard (because he is anti-condiment, of course).I had the fish special, halibut over a (four- or five-cheese, I can’t remember but the server listed all of them) mac-n-cheese. That came with some lovely little asparagus. I took half of it home for dinner the next day.

Dessert of course. For once Husb and I were on the same page so we ordered the “Apple Smoke Roasted Apple Crumble–cinnamon gelato, whipped cream” (perfect for a winter's evening) and the “Bella Mundo Parfait–mango sorbet, vanilla ice cream, fresh fruits and raspberry sauce,” which we’ve had before, and shared. That parfait is just perfect for after dinner: the tang of the mango, the sweet of the raspberry sauce, the creaminess of the ice cream.

Service, too, was every bit as good as it ever was in Shipoke. Even though we were squeezed in, we never felt rushed. We spoke briefly with Char on the way out; even though the new digs are three times as large as Shipoke, she still watches over every guest. My photos would not do it justice, so I recommend looking at the ones on their website. I’m already looking forward to my next sunset at Char’s.

Photograph above from restaurant website.

 

Bistrot La Minette, Philadelphia

South Philly. Those words make one think Philly cheesesteaks, right? Or Italian food—pastas, red sauces, olive oils. Mangia!

No, wait. Not this time. I’ve been in many fantastic Italian restaurants in South Philadelphia. But this time I was traveling with Husb (not the biggest fan of red sauce) and we were meeting Miss C and her Vince for dinner. There’s no one better at finding a good restaurant than Miss C and so I gave her Husb’s parameters. She came up with Bistrot La Minette. Voilà!

Sixth Street just below South. Saturday evening. Of course the streets were full and parking was difficult. But I knew the struggle would be worth it. We arrived at the restaurant exactly on time. And hungry. I had perused the menu on-line a few days before and had only one thing on my mind: haricot verts. Some might say that “green beans” is not usually what people look forward to, but back when we had a garden Husb grew the best haricot verts I’ve ever eaten. Slender, dark green, tender, and full of flavor. I have no idea why anyone grows any other green bean.

So yes, I was getting the haricot verts. But first a drink, madame? Bien sure. I was surprised to see French 75s on the menu, something I haven’t had since Le Bistro (now Café 210) in college. Fun way to start a meal.

What to order for dinner? Miss C was decisive: Terrine de Foie Gras (“duck liver paté, arugula, cognac raisins, honey vejus vinaigrette, red wine reduction”) to start and Escargots à la Bourguignonne (“Burgundy snails, garlic herb butter, croutons”) for entrée. Needless to say, I did not ask to share hers. Vince chose the Lapin Rôti à la Moutarde (“mustard-braised rabbit, house-made taglietelle, rabbit jus”). Thinking of the duck we used to have at the Blue Moon in York (now the Blue Heron and soon to be reviewed!), as well as the trout amandine we once experienced at Maison Robert in Boston, Husb and I were of like minds. He ordered the Magret de Canard Vigneronne (“pan-seared duck breast, vigneronne sauce, grapes, raisins, sautéed cauliflower, pommes purées”) and I the Truite Meunier (“Miller-style trout, green beans, fingerling potatoes, lemon brown butter, almonds”). Yes, my meal came with haricot verts, but we still ordered a side to share.

Dinner met our expectations (which, honestly, were pretty high). We split a bottle of wine, enjoyed and shared our meals (except those pesky snails!), and just pretty much had a great time. Serving size was perfect—enough to enjoy but not enough to ruin opportunities for dessert.  My Tarte Tatin (“upside down apple tart, caramel ice cream”) reminded me of the apple tart at the Blue Moon. Husb’s Pot de Crème au Chocolat (really, they shouldn’t call it chocolate pudding, that’s an injustice) was light and silky smooth.

The owner and executive chef at Bistrot La Minette is Peter Woolsey, with quite the Philadelphia fine dining record (remember Striped Bass?). Read the “About” on the website if you are hesitating at all. This is a wonderful place for French bistro food. I’m sure it’s where Husb will suggest we go in Philadelphia from now on.

Photos from the restaurant website.

El Chalan, Washington, DC

A vegetarian friend comes to visit—where do you take her (or him, as the case may be)? Husb and I picked up Carol at National Airport in DC right around dinnertime. We gave her a bit of time to catch her breath, talked about some dining options, and settled on El Chalan, a Peruvian restaurant on I Street between 19th and 20th, which was recommended by Husb’s colleague (she also said we should get the Pisco sours when we go).  

I was psyched for this restaurant. When we lived in York, we went to every special Peruvian buffet we could at El Serrano, so we are familiar with the cuisine. Not too “exotic” (that means not “scary” to people who are afraid to try new things) but definitely not like Mexican food. Meat, potatoes, vegetables—yes. So we figured Carol could find something.

We walked down the stairs to the restaurant (it’s the lower level of the building) and into this cozy little place with white tablecloths on the tables and paintings on the walls. First thing we ordered: Pisco sours, of course. Pisco is a “colorless or yellowish-to-amber colored grape brandy produced in winemaking regions of Peru and Chile,” sez Wikipedia. The sour looks sort of like a daiquiri but a little paler. Most definitely just as we were told—powerful and excellente! (Note to self: "Pisco Sour day" is celebrated on the first Saturday of February.)

In a nod to my days at El Serrano, I ordered the tacu-tacu for my entrée; I wanted to see how different it was from what I had in York. Plus it kept me from having to make a harder choice—some of the seafood sounded especially good that night. Carol ordered Vegetariano El Chalan, a chickpea and spinach stew. Husb chose a beef stew. Everyone pronounced the food delicious.

I was surprised at how different my tacu-tacu was from what I’ve had before. At El Serrano, it is “grilled Spanish rice and beans, mixed with egg and Pico de Gallo,” topped with their fabulous green sauce. It’s actually rather light. At El Chalan, beans play a much larger role (it’s much denser) and it comes topped with a creamy shrimp sauce. Of course this meant I had to look up the history of tacu-tacu: Afro-Peruvian . . . working class . . . many different forms. On the Internet the pictures I saw most often show it with a steak and fried egg but I’ve never seen that on a menu.

So at El Chalan I did not have any of Buzzfeed’s “15 Peruvian Foods You Have to Try” (although I have had chicha morada at El Serrano). I did take pictures of my Pisco sour but now they don’t seem to be on my phone (we will chalk that up to one powerful Pisco …). Already looking forward to my next visit—another friend (this one a carnivore) is coming to DC. She has been to Peru and can’t wait to try El Chalan.

Someone else's picture of Pisco sours:

 

Fork, Philadelphia

Part of the fun of restaurant dining is the experience. And Fork—in Old City Philadelphia—is most definitely an experience.

I was in town recently (more book research) and had the pleasure of meeting an old friend for dinner. She asked where I wanted to dine and I let her choose. With the wealth of restaurants in the neighborhood, I knew she couldn’t go wrong. She chose Fork.

I arrived at the restaurant a little early and sat at the bar for a drink. With it being a blistering hot July, I was looking for something cold. Under “bubbly” on the cocktail menu, I thought the martini bianco (lillet white, peach bitters, club soda) sounded good—and it was. About the time I finished, Marge came in and we were seated. She ordered the Aperol cocktail (aperol, orange bitters, sparkling wine). I’d never heard of Aperol but it seems to be pretty hot right now—or at least the umbrellas with “Aperol” printed on them on sidewalk tables think so.

After that lovely drink, what would ordering dinner bring us? We started with Caputo Brothers’ stracciatella toasts (“charred and pickled eggplant”). Under the eggplant was the toast; above was the stracciatella (a cheese—that’s where the Caputo Brothers come in), lemon, and more eggplant. Beautiful and delicious.

Fork is not a place where bread arrives in a basket with little plastic butter containers (or even the more modern olive oil to drizzle)—our bread was served on a board and looked like tiny little bagels, with homemade cream cheese on the side.

Dinner was very difficult to choose. Our server asked more than once if we had questions, which was appreciated. Fork’s menu is … I’m not sure how to describe it. A little mysterious, perhaps? Part of the experience certainly. (This is not a criticism, but if you want something that describes your food completely before you order it, Fork is not the place to go.) Here you need to trust the chef.

Marge chose the smoked cioppino (“cuttlefish and razors, braised celery, grilled sourdough”). I had to get something different, of course, and ordered the lavender gnudi (“Shy Brothers’ cloumage, summer fricassee”). According to what I have since read, gnudi is like gnocchi but with cheese instead of potato. Cloumage is a special “fresh lactic curd” from Shy Brothers Farm in Massachusetts. What arrived on my plate were six little balls of very delicate pasta and cheese with a flavor of lavender. Not huge, not heavy, just perfect.

Cioppino = fish stew, right? I would hate to use such an ordinary description for what came to the table. The server presented Marge with a large white bowl containing a little pile of vegetables, a little pile of razor clams, and a little rectangle of fish. Then the server took a carafe of tomato broth and poured it into the bowl. Beautiful!And really flavorful. I wouldn't hesitate to get that on a return trip.

Servings here are of a size that you can have both an appetizer and dessert. I wish more places were like that. So we had the pleasure of enjoying more Fork. Marge ordered the lemon curd (“grapefruit-jasmine soup, vanilla sorbet”). I had the rhubarb chess pie (not on the menu at the moment), a tiny tart with a little rhubarb ice cream on the side. When the lemon curd came, again it came deconstructed; the server poured the grapefruit-jasmine soup into the bowl.  

Throughout the meal Marge and I had time to talk to each other—we weren’t rushed, we didn’t have to yell to hear each other, no one cleared plates before we swallowed a last bite (I really hate that last one). It’s no wonder that Fork has won many awards and is among the top restaurants on my Total Foodie friends’ lists. Fork is more than just very good food, though; it is an experience. Trust the chef.

Smoked cioppino above; lavender gnudi below.

The Chocolate Avenue Grill, Hershey

The holidays (remember them? seems like so long ago!) were particularly stressful for me this year. And so when we headed into January a few weeks ago and all the visits were finished, the decorations put away, the last of the cookies eaten, I decided I needed a breath of Civilization—lunch in a nice place where I didn’t have to dress up too much but the food was good and the atmosphere calm and friendly. I chose the Chocolate Avenue Grill in Hershey. Dining companion—who better than Mary the Photographer, who had first introduced me to the Grill?

 It was also Mary who suggested a drink before lunch. I certainly couldn’t let her drink alone. She ordered wine. After checking the cocktail menu (which is very creative) I decided on a pomegranate martini. This delicate pink gem came with a light sour-apple sugar crust around the rim and a little carafe for a second pour. For an appetizer to share Mary ordered the seafood springrolls: “A crab and shrimp blend, stuffed in crispy fried rice paper rolls, served with a black raspberry chipotle sauce” (see picture--we were halfway through by then!). In the time we were there, I saw at least three other tables get the same appetizer. Must be very popular!

For our entrees, I looked the menu over again and again. I really couldn’t decide. I have been to this restaurant a number of times but so far I have only had one thing: “Jess's Favorite Salad in the Whole World”: “Mixed greens, toasted almonds, fresh strawberries and coconut breaded chicken served with our almost world famous poppy seed dressing.” I swore I was going to get something different. I even picked out two things on the menu to choose from when the server came. But when she asked, I ordered the salad. Must be my favorite, too. I guess it’s that “almost world-famous” poppyseed dressing. There are so many other sandwiches and wraps I’d like to try—one of these times I’ll break away.

But I’m in good company as far as ordering something she’s had before because it was so good. Mary ordered the soup of the day (a seafood chowder) with a side of garlic bread: “Homemade garlic butter on ciabatta bread topped with melted Provolone and Parmesan cheeses with a side of marinara.” It’s like no other garlic bread I’ve ever had; I can see why she gets it often. 

Something else for another visit—dessert perhaps? I have not yet had the pleasure, but then the salad is big (and can be a little sweet  with the coconut and strawberries on it).

I see on their website that the Grill is considering adding breakfast or a bar. Breakfast got my vote but then I don’t live in Hershey. You can make your preference known by scrolling down the site’s main page and voting. And definitely stop by the Grill sometime for Jess's Salad. Or garlic bread. Or maybe even something else.

Photo (c) 2013 Mary Brenner