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Bill Hogan

Aberdeen/ South Dakota

Diced Ham Fried Rice

Capitol Cafe and Lounge

420 South Main Street
Aberdeen, South Dakota

1939 – 1965

Howard Wong was born in Canton, China, in 1912 and came to the United States with his father, Sig Hong, when he was 12 years old. Sig Hong died just six months after that, and Wong was taken in by a family in Fargo, North Dakota. Later he moved in with cousins in Jamestown, North Dakota, where he learned to cook at the family’s restaurant.

In the 1930s Wong moved to Chicago, where he continued to cook. Somewhere along the way became a pilot, and he recruited other Chinese pilots to return to China and teach flying. After working in Minneapolis and Hutchinson, Minnesota, he returned to North Dakota to become the manager of the American Cafe in Fargo. In 1936 Wong met his wife, Beulah, and the couple moved to LaMoure, where he opened his first Chinese restaurant.

In 1939 Wong and his wife moved to Aberdeen, South Dakota, where he opened the Capitol Cafe and Lounge. Its location on Main Street, just a block and a half north of the intersection of U.S. Highways 12 and 81, provided a steady stream of customers from morning to night, and the place offered something for everyone. “Truly the upper Midwest’s finest cafe and cocktail lounge,” an early postcard said, promising “a selection of tasty Chinese dishes” and “choice cuts of steak or sea food prepared to your liking,” as well as “a lift from a refreshing highball.”

Sometime in the early 1960s Wong decided that he wanted to build a larger place so that his two sons could become a part of the business. So in 1965 he closed the Capitol Cafe, disposed of its equipment and furnishings in a liquidation sale, and moved to Bloomington, Minnesota, where the following year, at a total cost of $600,000 he opened Howard Wong’s on a then-barren stretch of Interstate Highway 494. When Wong decided to retire in 1984, he sold the restaurant to Franklin Lee, the owner of the Mandarin Yen, a popular Chinese restaurant in Golden Valley, Minnesota, who renamed it Mandarin Yen South. Wong died in 1993 at age 81.

Wilmington/ Delaware

Deviled Crab

Winkler’s Restaurant

French Street
Wilmington, Delaware

1933 – 1984

Columbus/ Georgia

Georgia Peach Cobbler

Goo-Goo Restaurant & Drive-In

700 Linwood Boulevard
Columbus, Georgia

1941 – 1965

A restaurant named after a duck?

That’s what J. Albert Snipes had in mind when he opened the Goo-Goo Restaurant in 1941. He’d copyrighted the name a year earlier, inspired by the web-footed sidekick of Joe Penner, a zany vaudeville, radio, and film comic who rose to national fame in the 1930s with the catchphrase “Wanna buy a duck?” and his trademark “hyuk-hyuk-hyuk” laugh. (In the 1934 Paramount film College Rhythm, Penner kneels in front of his duck and earnestly croons “Goo-Goo, I’m ga-ga over you . . .”)

Snipes styled his restaurant, known first as the Goo-Goo Restaurant & Dine-a-Port and later as the Goo-Goo Restaurant and Drive-In, as “The Home of Fine Food,” and charcoal-broiled steaks got top billing. In the 1950s it was serving more than 3,000 people a day. But in 1965 it burned to the ground, and seven years later it was replaced by Goo-Goo Car Wash, which capitalized on the restaurant’s landmark status and today, from its headquarters in Columbus, operates in a dozen states.

Here is the recipe for the Goo-Goo Restaurant and Drive-In’s Georgia Peach Cobbler, as it was prepared in the mid-1950s.

Boynton Beach/ Florida

Tortoni Ice Cream

Luigi’s Spaghetti House

2404 South Federal Highway
Boynton Beach, Florida

1956 – 1972

Here’s the story, in Luigi Mirisola’s own words (as captured by syndicated newspaper columnist Robert Peterson), of how Luigi’s Spaghetti House, in Boynton Beach, Florida, came to be:

“I didn’t go into the restaurant business until I was 50.

“I’d been in life insurance for 28 years and had worked my way up to a district managership in Boston. But I harbored a dream of some day moving to a mild climate and starting a café. I loved to fix spaghetti for my friends, and my wife made the world’s best meat sauce.

“Then we took a Florida vacation and happened to see a rundown café for rent. It had just one room with tables, plus a kitchen and tiny living quarters in the rear. My old dream came into focus and, after talking it over with my wife, we decided to strike out on a brand-new career. I went back to Boston, sold our home, took our savings of $7,000, moved here, and rented the cafe for $165 a month.”

As Peterson told the story in his 1967 book, New Life Begins at Forty, the restaurant was anything but an instant hit. Things were difficult at first, with Luigi’s “spaghettoria” seeming like just another hash house on the Dixie Highway. But in time Luigi and Mary Mirisola built up a loyal clientele and then acquired a well-heeled partner who helped finance the expansion of the restaurant to four dining rooms, 200 seats, and a real Italian patio, complete with fountain.

“I can still hardly believe it,” Luigi told Peterson. “I’m making more than ever before, and was never happier.”

In 1969, however, Mirisola grew upset at rumors that he’d sold the restaurant, and he sent this message to a columnist for the Palm Beach Post: “When and if I ever sell — which I have no present or even possible intention of doing, at the moment — I will tell you first, I will tell EVERYBODY!”

The Mirisolas owned and operated Luigi’s Spaghetti House until June 1972. Luigi died in 1990 at age 84; Mary died in 2006 at age 94.

Here is the recipe for the Tortoni Ice Cream that was served at Luigi’s Spaghetti House.

Wolfeboro/ New Hampshire

Spiced Pecan Muffins

The Carr House

90 North Main Street
Wolfeboro, New Hampshire

1936 – 1959

The Carr House had its beginnings in a residence built in 1812 by Nathaniel Rogers. Through most of the 19th century the house remained a private residence, but as more and more visitors poured into Wolfeboro, which came to be known as “The Oldest Summer Resort in America,” it was converted into an inn. The tradition of taking in guests and serving meals began in 1931, when the Carlisle family opened the Copper Kettle there. Soon after that the inn was bought by Mr. and Mrs. James W. Carr, and in 1936 they changed the name to The Carr House. The inn featured the Colonial Tavern Room and the Pine Lodge, where white-gloved waiters attended to every need of their pampered guests, and its cozy rooms were filled with good books and gentle breezes from Lake Winnipesaukee.

In 1939 the dining room at The Carr House was opened to outside guests, though it closed during World War II. On reopening after the war’s end, it began billing itself “a country inn on Lake Winnipesaukee.” For more than 20 years, the Duncan Hines guides recommended The Carr House as a place to eat and to stay.

The ensuing years brought several changes in ownership and management. In 1959 the Carrs sold the property to Richard and Ruth Davis, who renamed it the Wolfeboro Inn. In 1987 a spectacular three-story addition, with commanding views of Lake Winnipesaukee, was added to the original building. Hay Creek Hospitality acquired the property in 2007 and reopened it in February 2009 after a total restoration.

Here is the recipe is for The Carr House’s Spiced Pecan Mufffins, as they were prepared in the 1940s.

Captiva/ Florida

Blueberry Sour Cream Pie

Timmy’s Nook

15183 Captiva Drive
Captiva, Florida

1950 – 1994

In 1950 Thomas M. “Timmy” Wiles opened a little dockside restaurant on Captiva Island, the northern partner of Sanibel Island, that he christened Timmy’s Nook. Back in those days no causeway joined the two islands with the Florida mainland, so all comers came, in one way or another, by boat, as Teddy Roosevelt did in the early 1900s when he traveled to Captiva to trophy fish, or by plane, as Charles Lindbergh did when he regularly used the beach in front of the ’Tween Waters Inn as an airstrip.

Even though his doctor had ordered him to cut back on physical work, Wiles built Timmy’s Nook himself — from the ground up. Having previously been in the concrete-block business, he knew what he was doing. He laid the restaurant’s foundation, poured the concrete floor, and called an old machine back into service to make the concrete blocks for the rest of the building.

At first Timmy’s Nook was just a short-order sandwich place, but Wiles, who’d found himself serving lots of local fishermen, soon built a bigger menu that featured straight-off-the-boat seafood and all the appropriate accompaniments. This, it turned out, was the winning formula. Everything was good, really good: the homemade conch chowder, the stone-crab claws, the deep-fried barracuda fillets, the shrimp scampi, and the real-deal Key lime pie, to name just some of the standbys. And some things were so good — especially the crunchy grouper sandwiches and blueberry sour cream pie — that folks on Captiva still speak of them in wistful and even reverential terms.

Captiva began to change a lot with the opening of the Sanibel Causeway in 1963, but “The Nook” — as the locals had come to call it — stayed pretty much the same. The fried seafood platters were as good as could be gotten anywhere along Florida’s Gulf Coast, and plenty of customers still arrived by boat, tying up just southwest of Marker 38 to get a bite to eat before going on their way.

A guidebook of the era described Timmy’s Nook as “a small green hut and marina” with “the requisite tarpon on the wall.” It was, to be sure, an unpretentious eatery, with cool breezes from the Gulf of Mexico as the only form of air-conditioning and a black-chalkboard menu that could change as often as the fish came in. And there was that sign, visible to all who entered: “The difficult age has come and lit / Too tired to work . . . too poor to quit . . .”

When Wiles died in 1970, his wife, Beulah, who’d some years earlier retired from her long-held position as Captiva’s postmistress, ran the restaurant until three of their seven daughters — Barbara, Dona, and Linda — took over. In 1976 came a renovation and enlargement of Timmy’s Nook, though its unpretentious ambience was left undisturbed. Outside there were weatherworn picnic tables covered with red-checkered vinyl tablecloths, and as you ate lunch you could peer down through the gaps in the floorboards and see the waters of Pine Island Sound as they lapped gently against the shore.

By the early 1990s Timmy’s Nook had claimed the title of Captiva’s oldest restaurant and was often assigned, at least on an informal basis, “historic” or “landmark” status. Its days, however, were numbered. In 1994 the Wiles family sold Timmy’s Nook to Andreas Bieri, a local restaurateur and co-owner of another Captiva landmark, The Mucky Duck. It served its last meals on April 15, 1994.

Timmy’s Nook was soon demolished, its concrete remains used as landfill for the modern and much larger restaurant that Bieri built in its place. The Green Flash, so named for the fleeting spot of intense green light that you can sometimes see as the sun disappears over the horizon at sunset, opened on December 8, 1995.

Blueberry Sour Cream Pie, the signature dessert at Timmy’s Nook, later appeared on the menu at The Mucky Duck. But if you want to make it yourself, here’s the original recipe.

Baltimore/ Maryland

Maryland Crab Cakes

Thompson’s Sea Girt House

5919 York Road
Baltimore, Maryland

1885 – 1993

Thompson’s Sea Girt House occupies a storied place in American culinary history, for it was there, in Baltimore’s southeastern waterfront district, that crab imperial was invented sometime in the late 19th century.

In 1885 George Thompson, Jr., acquired a hotel at the foot of Newkirk Street in Canton, a neighborhood in Baltimore’s outer harbor, and converted it into a restaurant. Thompson was an enterprising and colorful character; legend has it that each morning he’d step out onto the 450-foot pier off his restaurant to shoot a half-dozen ducks over the Patapsco River. Thompson’s Sea Girt House became known for its jumbo soft crabs, fish, and fried-chicken dinners, which for many years were served with a salad, French fries, and hot muffins for 60 cents a plate. Then, of course, there was the crab imperial, a gratin of crabmeat bound with a mixture of diced onions, green bell pepper, and pimiento in a thick cream sauce, which quickly became Thompson’s signature dish. (Today’s version of the dish is generally much lighter than the original so as not to suffocate the sweetness of the crabmeat.)

Thompson’s decision to locate his restaurant where he did turned out to be fortuitous. In 1898 Lowrey’s Place, a popular beer garden in nearby Colgate Creek, closed to make way for River View Park, an amusement park that was to be built at Point Breeze off Broening Highway in East Baltimore. River View Park opened in 1890 with all the requisite attractions: a quarter-mile-long roller coaster, a “Human Roulette Wheel,” a swimming pool, and bandstand concerts that were reported to draw up to 60,000 patrons. (Future jazz legends Eubie Blake and Noble Sissle met, and began their songwriting partnership, while working there as “The Dixie Duo” shortly after World War I.) Thompson’s Sea Girt Restaurant happened to be right on the streetcar line that took visitors to and from River View Park, which had come to be known as the “Coney Island of the South.”

Maybe, though, it was all just too good to be true. River View Park somehow survived five major fires, but it could not seem to survive the long dry spell of Prohibition, which went into effect on January 16, 1920, and would not be repealed until December 5, 1933. It closed in 1929. Western Electric Company bought the property at auction later that year, tore down the amusement park, and built its mammoth Point Breeze Works on the site.

By the 1940s, a new generation of Thompsons—George W., Sr., the great-grandson of the founder, and his wife Mary Margaret, whom he’d married in 1927—were running the family restaurant. In 1949 they bought Cahill’s Bar, a liquor-store-turned-tavern at York Road and Belvedere Avenue, and began making preparations to move their restaurant there. As original location was being demolished to make way for a marine terminal, they were reopening Thompson’s Sea Girt Restaurant at its new location.

George ran the kitchen, Margaret the front of the house. The décor was nautical through and through, of course, with backlit porthole windows and a big, beckoning lobster tank. Mrs. Thompson knew many of the customers by name.

The family was struck by tragedy in 1969 when George Thompson was fatally stabbed in a robbery at the couple’s home. In time their son, George W. Thompson, Jr., known to all as “Tommy,” stepped in to help run the restaurant.

“Nationally famous landmark for sea food and prime beef, specializing in Maryland crab dishes,” Thompson’s Sea Girt House billed itself. The beef, in fact, didn’t always take the back seat. In 1972 George Jr. made news when he went to the Maryland State Fair in Timonium and bought the grand champion steer, a 1,035-pound Hereford, for a record $3.02 a pound. But the crab cakes reigned supreme, to the point that by 1981 Thompson’s was dispatching them in insulated containers via Federal Express—six for $24, plus tax and shipping—to devotees all over the country. (“A breed apart from the usual,” New York Magazine christened them. “Toothsome, moist, and delicious.”)

The Thompsons, mother and son, continued to operate the restaurant until 1983, when they sold it to Tomas Sanz, a talented Spanish-born chef, and two partners. Sanz had been running the kitchen at Tio Pepe Restaurante, a landmark Spanish restaurant in Baltimore that at the time was owned by his older brother. Sanz brightened the menu with his own creations—a Spanish salad, for example, and filet of sole Alcazar with bananas and hollandaise—while keeping the specialties that had made Thompson’s Sea Girt House famous. But it was, perhaps, a losing battle. A lack of off-street parking in the area and too much petty crime for a mostly older clientele were said to have contributed to the restaurant’s demise. It closed on December 31, 1993.

In something of a postscript to the story, however, Thompson’s Sea Girt House wasn’t quite finished. As it turned out, Mrs. Thompson had kept the rights to the restaurant’s name, and in 1987 she and her son had opened another Thompson’s on 83rd Street in Ocean City, Maryland. She greeted customers there, as she had always done, until the restaurant closed in 1997. Margaret Mary Thompson died five years late at the age of 92. Her son recalled at the time that her favorite meal at Thompson’s began with a Crown Royal Mist with a twist, followed by crab cakes, stewed tomatoes, and fried eggplant.

Here is the recipe for the Maryland Crab Cakes served at Thompson’s Sea Girt House.

Parma/ Ohio

Corn Fritters

Bessie Miller’s Broadview Club

6048 Broadview Road
Parma, Ohio

1913 – 1980

Through most of the 20th century, Bessie Miller’s place was the crown jewel of country-style dining in Cuyahoga County. To at least three generations of Clevelanders, the ride south to Parma would be rewarded with some of the best food anywhere —certainly something far, far better than standard roadhouse fare.

Bessie Bering was born in Hungary, in a little town outside of Budapest, in 1885. Sometime around the turn of the century she decided to emigrate to the United States, and, like many thousands of other Hungarians, found her way to Cleveland. (In time Cleveland would have the second-largest Hungarian population in the world.) She was seventeen.

Bering’s first job was as a dishwasher, but she clearly had bigger things in mind. In 1905 she married Fred Miller — a kindred spirit, born in Vienna, whom everyone called “Fritz” — and by 1913 the young couple had saved enough to buy the All Wien Social Club at 6048 Broadview Road in Parma. They renamed it the Broadview Club. It was pretty much a farmhouse with a sign out front, and the Millers, the story goes, served their first chicken dinners on the front porch by the light of coal oil lamps.

It was Bessie’s idea, when guests began to arrive in numbers, to have a horse-drawn carryall meet them where the streetcar line ended, at Broadview and Pearl. Suddenly business boomed as never before, and before long Bessie and Fritz branched out into catering. Tragically, however, in 1933, on the day the Millers were to have celebrated their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary, Fritz died, leaving Bessie a widow.

It was the worst point of the Great Depression. More than 11,000 of the nation’s 25,000 banks had failed. The national unemployment rate had reached 25 percent. But Bessie Miller made it through.

In 1935 Bessie married Edward W. Roski, and while she took her new husband’s last name the restaurant continued to be known, and advertised, as Bessie Miller’s Broadview Club. It achieved some measure of fame nationwide for its fried-chicken dinners and clambakes, but “The House of Fine Food and Liquors,” as it came to bill itself, also served steak, lobster, duck, and frog-leg dinners as well as homemade pastries that included, in keeping with Bessie’s Hungarian heritage, just about the best apple strudel anywhere. Most amazing of all, perhaps, was that Bessie Miller’s Broadview Club did so well as a seasonal operation, opening on May 1 each year and closing at the end of October.

Bessie Miller was ahead of her time in another way: When it came to the kitchen, at least, she was something of a feminist. “Naturally, my cooks are women,” she told a reporter in 1951. “Some have been with me from the start.” And what about men? “Men,” she explained just as matter-of-factly, “are all right to wash dishes and get dressed up to greet guests.”

Bessie and Eddie were doing well enough to travel abroad and winter each year one of their homes in Florida, where they took friends deep-sea fishing on their 35-motor launch and had, as one newspaper reporter described it, “a series of good times entertaining their friends — on boat or at home.” (The friends included Charlie Feldkamp, who owned the Chester Grill in Cleveland, and Bob and Millie Wertheim, who owned Wertheim’s Chick Inn in Northfield).

By the 1960s Bessie Miller had turned the operation of the restaurant over to her stepson, Earl Roski. Even in her 80s, though, she came up from Florida once a year to make sure, as one account put it, “that her original recipes are faithfully followed.” Edward Roski died in 1972, and Bessie died in 1976 at age TK.

In 1980 Bessie Miller’s Broadview Club was sold to new owners, who soon renamed  it “Inn the Woods Restaurant & Lounge.”

Here’s the recipe for the Corn Fritters that were served at Bessie Miller’s Broadview Club: