Dig That Diner - The Pancake Shop in Hot Springs.

Nearly 69 years old, The Pancake Shop is still flappin’ jacks and offering a great traditional Southern breakfast cheap and with a smile.

I grew up with an idea of diners that came from prime-time TV. Diners were a world where waitresses wore matching uniforms, where chrome barstools and Formica-topped tables were the norm, where the coffee was always hot and the eggs always cooked to order.

Yes, I thought all diners were like Mel’s Diner on Alice.

When I got older, I didn’t see that when I went out for breakfast. Oh, sure, Waffle House has uniforms and coffee, but it’s not the same. Waffle House doesn’t evoke thoughts of a community, or warm feelings about the past. It wasn’t until years later that I’d find the place that met my mental image of a diner.

When I think of a place like Mel’s Diner, I think of The Pancake Shop.

No, I’ve never heard a waitress there tell a customer to kiss her grits, and there’s no grumpy cook hollering at folks. But the food is good, it’s decently priced, there are regulars that come through on a schedule, and you won’t find a better cuppa joe in Hot Springs National Park.

This isn’t some fly-by-night Johnny-come-lately trendy joint trying to take advantage of nostalgic tourists. The Pancake Shop has been a Bathhouse Row fixture since 1940. It had been located at 133 Central Avenue (where the Downtown Hotel & Spa is located today) for many years, as Mason’s Pancake Shop. Later it was bought by the Conway family of Chicago and moved across the street to its present location. Tom Ardman and his wife Ruth ran the place from the sixties onward, until Tom passed away in 1980. Ruth kept up the fantastic service and drew in even more customers. She died in 2004, but her daughter Keeley DeSalvo and Keeley’s husband Stephen still maintain the business and its great record of good food at decent prices.

I’ve had lots of chances to become acquainted with the eatery. I’ve visited many times over the years, and during my TV days even had the opportunity to bring in the morning show I worked on for a morning. The staff was splendid, opening up at an ungodly hour to allow all of Hot Springs to come in and meet our anchors and enjoy a good breakfast.

And that’s the thing -- TV news anchors are just regular folks here. So are just about every sort of celebrity you might imagine. Lots of folks have darkened the doorstep -- including generations of horseracing’s finest, musicians of the like of Liberace, and who knows who else. No matter the magnitude of your own shining stardom, you’ll always get the same warm welcome.

On my most recent visit, I arrived after the morning rush. I ordered my usual, iced tea, which was served up strong with a handful of Sweet & Low packets and a chunk of lemon in a bowl. I looked up and saw the smiling countenances of my former anchors on the wall, right alongside Barney the Dinosaur. Well, you never know what sort of company you’ll end up keeping when your face is peering down from a wall.

The Pancake Shop’s big thing is breakfast, and that’s what you come to order. The choices are simple -- pancakes, French toast, breakfast meats, eggs, and omelets, drinks and fruit. Almost everything is served with toast, and toast is served with grape jelly and apple butter in individual services. Apple butter is so extraordinarily Arkansan, and it’s so fitting here.
.

It's very easy to over-order here. But that's okay, there's no hurry. The furnishings are straight out of the early 60s -- Naugahyde beige benches, green cushioned wooden chairs and melamine topped tables. Locals and celebrities also have eaten here look down. Pictures obscured by large flourishes of autographs and thanks. Lots of horse racing memorabilia, too.

It’s just one more item that’s normal here, where it might not be normal elsewhere. You can have any meat you want, as long as it’s pork -- but there’s also lots of fruit and juice choices. Where else can you get bananas and blueberries, stewed prunes, or grapefruit? Oatmeal, cream of wheat,

or cereal? Your choice of five types of toast? Buckwheat pancakes? Buttermilk or chocolate milk? These are the staples of a good Southern breakfast buffet, yet here they’re all available and for a reasonable price. And yes, there are grits.

My favorite? Banana pancakes -- real bananas in the batter, too. Pancakes are thick, hearty, and the size of a dinner plate. One is enough for a side, two for a complete breakfast -- yet it’s not unusual to hear a neophyte order a stack of three and see the same customer give up halfway through his food. Gargantuan gobs of grub, indeed.

Another favorite -- because you never can just have one -- omelets, fluffy and fresh with a hearty offering of American cheese. Some folks want to add in things like ham or sausage or sautéed onions in theirs -- I like mine simple, and could dine on just omelets with glee.

It may sound like I’m in love with the restaurant. Perhaps I am. There’s just something about the simplicity of a place where the most expensive thing on the menu is Ham Steak and Eggs ($7.85). And where the wait staff still refers to customers as “sir” and “ma’am,” not in that smarmy way that teenagers sometimes manage but with the honest respect that good businesses try to foster.

The Pancake Shop is open every day from 6am to 12:45pm. You’ll find it across from the Arlington Hotel at 216 Central Avenue in Hot Springs. Check out the restaurant on-line at www.pancakeshop.com or call (501) 624-5720.

UPDATE: I've come back and written more about the Pancake Shop - once, when I did a cupping, once on the 75th anniversary, once on our epic Scenic Highway Seven adventure... actually, I've written a LOT about the Pancake Shop.

On The Journey...

When I started this blog, I had meant for it to be a clearinghouse of little articles I'd do about travel and food. But a lot has happened since then, and I'm wondering if it's time for Tie Dye Travels to evolve.

Perhaps a little history might provide perspective.

I was a television producer. I enjoyed the job, and thought it was all I was ever going to do. After all, how many people out there can claim they've achieved their dream job by age 25?

But things change, and through a variety of circumstances I decided to leave television in September 2007.

What I discovered about the world and myself in the months since then has changed my entire view of the world.

The blog started out just being about Arkansas. I worked on a project called "Where in Arkansas?" for Today's THV, and I rather enjoyed finding locations all around the state to write about, little bits of trivia to expound upon, odd things and unique things. It seemed a natural place to start.

I also picked up bits from the places around Arkansas' borders, too -- like Branson, MO with its shows and festivals. Like Shreveport, LA and the places you can reach from there -- burgs like Jefferson, TX and Natchitoches, LA.
Like Transylvania.

I started writing for other publications, too -- after all, you have to make money some way or another. And it was through one of those other publications that the idea of travelogues came up. And that's how I found myself on January 6th of 2008 sitting in a Memphis hotel room, trying to determine how I'd go about thing, how I needed to start researching and putting together said travelogues, the wonder of the possibilities staring me in the face.

Within six months I had doubled the number of states I had visited in my lifetime. I found myself slapped with the wonder of it all on a cold day in late January, standing on the railing at a harbor park in Boston with my husband and my friend Louis, realizing that this really was my job now -- scary as that might be.

The magnitude, the wonder of it all, struck me with such overwhelming force that I had to sit and take it in. Though not for too long -- it was bloody cold.

The writing took me in three weeks from the teens in the Northeast to the 70s in Phoenix.

By this point I was getting the routine down, learning how to budget my time, discovering what I needed to do to get all the photos and information I needed, learning how best to travel through an airport (and that wearing boots under tight jeans was a bad idea when going through security).

I sometimes felt overwhelmed, especially by the extremes of the job -- such as going from a night in a rather scary Super 8, by taxi, to the splendid and gorgeous Arizona Biltmore Hotel and being struck by the beauty and extravagance of the property. Such times I felt overwhelmingly blessed to do what I was doing.

I also discovered that maybe not every town in America was up my alley. My mom and I traveled a few weeks later across the United States to Las Vegas. The trip there was incredible. I had long wanted to retrace bits of Route 66, to travel the Mother Road and join on that highway of time.

I finally got to see things I knew about, like the Wigwam Motel in Holbrooke, AZ and the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, TX.

I was surprised at other sights, like Weatherford, OK's windmill farms and the way Albuquerque, NM appears like a sudden vision of sequins in the night over a crest on I-40.

My breath was utterly taken away standing outside a tourist stop at the Continental Divide.

Vegas? Neat, I guess, but scary too. Don't get me wrong -- I liked a lot of the neat things I saw in Las Vegas... but having spent a lot of time in Branson over the past decade, it seemed in many ways to be unnecessarily extravagant. Then again, I'm not a gambler.

Not that I'm complaining. If the trip had been by plane instead, we would never have followed our curiosity to London Bridge, and I would never have spent about nine minutes in California. I certainly wouldn't have found myself snowed in twice in a week on the road

-- once in Gallup, NM -- once on the road itself in an unexpected snowstorm in Russellville, AR. Yeah, that second one surprised me more because I spent my college years in Russellville and had never, never experienced snow like that there.

The job took me other
places, too -- places I
missed and wanted badly to revisit. It's how I found myself back in New Orleans in March, a city I'd fallen in love with years ago. It was good to visit the old haunts that remained, but also sad to feel the change in attitudes that permeate the area. The timbre of the love affair had changed. Thank goodness the food hadn't.

It took me back to Branson in April, though every briefly. Along the way I picked up bits in Memphis, Shreveport, and Vicksburg. And it sent me exploring Highway Seven in Arkansas, a favorite from my childhood and my college days, driving through the Ozarks and through a not so distant past that I hope to eventually be able to relate better to people -- how the modest little winding road used to be the highway to fun, the enjoyable and lively path to Dogpatch.


By that point, I was already preparing for another journey... a life-changing journey to parenthood that I am still trying to figure out.

In June, as gas prices continued their accent towards the $4 mark and the heat began to rise, I found myself in St. Louis, a gorgeous town I fell for hard. Honestly, if I were to ever live outside of Arkansas, I believe St. Louis is where I would land. Once again I found myself overwhelmed -- this time by a thriving arts community, a whole city pushing itself towards going green, and a unique and well-varied cuisine. I still miss T-Ravs.

I also found myself in Dallas at the City Arts Festival, temperatures closing in on the century mark, pavement steaming and people mingling and my own limitations coming to light.

By this time I'd gotten my routine down into a three-day standard where I could schedule everything I needed to acquire pretty efficiently. Still, after a
couple of days in Arlington after my Dallas sojourn, I was ready to return to Arkansas and stay.

Not that my travels ended. I still found ways to get out and about... whether it was traveling up to War Eagle for lunch at the Bean Palace and to restock the
household supply of flour and oatmeal, or heading down to Camp Taloha to work on helping restore and better the once-proud Girl Scout camp for others to use, or traveling to Altus to learn more about Arkansas wine country, or visiting one of the state's great festivals.

The job even gave me a new perspective on another favorite place, Hot Springs, when I traveled with other members of the media and became a bit of a de facto native guide for the better part of a week in September. It was incredible, taking in the perspective of others who, for the most part, had never experienced a town
that was part of the fabric of my upbringing. Through that journey, I was able to look at the area in a new light and realize just how much it had to offer -- right up there with all the other big-name cities I'd visited this year.

The last few months of the year brought me home... in
fact, I went from being out of state more than in state the first six months of the year to not leaving Greater Little Rock for the last two months. It all culminated, of course, with the birth of our child -- an event that indeliably altered the lives of myself and my husband. Something that seems to have made the changeover in our lives so complete from where we were in September 2007.

A lot has changed in that time. I'd hope that my writing has improved... but who am I to tell? I'm pretty certain my photography has come a long way. Today I write a lot -- in between taking care of my daughter and my husband and dog and house. I am thankful for the journey, and I find myself wondering where the road of life is going to take me, take us all.

So perhaps, in the end, Tie Dye Travels isn't just about the places I've visited and the food I've consumed. Perhaps it's also about the journey of my life, which I am lucky enough to share with the people who'd like to read about it. Perhaps... perhaps...

Time off the road.

It's been a little while since I posted here... and there are reasons for that. It just came to me that perhaps I'd better share why.

Tie Dye Travels is exactly that -- my travels. Unfortunately, life circumstances have kept me off the road for a couple of months. I'm not complaining, though.

On December 2nd, after several weeks off my feet, my husband and I welcomed our daughter into this world. Hunter Elizabeth was born at 3:51pm on a chilly Tuesday -- nine pounds, three ounces, and 21 inches of perfect, alert, calm child. She's something else. And she's turned our world upside down.

What that's left me with, though, is what to do with this blog in the meantime. I have for months collected extra material to utilize here. But there's something about what's happened that's changed my perspective. And I find it more difficult to share my experiences of months past after viewing said memories through these new eyes.

So what to do with the blog? That's a good question.

For those who don't know, I am also writing now for Eat Arkansas, the Arkansas Times food blog. This website has been mentioned on that blog many times, and it seems a great pairing. So many of the restaurant reviews I once aired here first are going there instead.

There's also the matter of changes in other venues where Tie Dye Travels is published. Changes at the Arkansas Free Press have taken it off the newsstands and thrown it in all its glory onto the World Wide Web. Another publication, the brand new Emerald City of the South have stepped in, and I'm proud to say that this column appears there now. Of course, as always this column is available for publication just about anywhere.

In all, 2009 looks to begin a lot differently than 2008 did for me. And it's lead me to wonder where Tie Dye Travels should go. Does it remain my own traveler's view of the world? Or shall I also add in other aspects? Do I share the adventure of child rearing with you? Comments about the world at large? Opinions? Emotions?

Feedback is a lovely thing. Please add yours to this entry's comment section. It's much appreciated.

Food for Time Travelers at Vino's Brewpub in Little Rock.

The big buzz about the old haunts at 7th and Chester is in recalling the hallowed days of the old DMZ.  But for 18 years out of those past two decades since the locale shook with the sounds of punk and early alternative rock, the smell of dough and suds has permeated the music-soaked air.

When Gangsters Ruled the Spa.

Note: The Gangster Museum of America has moved down the street to 510 Central Avenue, across from Bathhouse Row.

Chicago doesn’t like its gangster reputation -- and in the past few years has shed a lot of the museums and shops that might be seen as glorifying organized crime. Las Vegas, home of lots of alleged mob activity, hasn’t opened one yet. In fact, the only place you’ll find a museum dedicated to gangsters in the United States -- is right in Hot Springs.

The Gangster Museum of America opened in April of this year… just down from Bathhouse Row and the Arlington Hotel on the town’s Central Avenue. The unassuming façade between a magic show and a pancake restaurant is moderately deceiving… there’s a lot of history here.

On a beautiful September day I traveled with several others to visit the unique museum and see what it was all about. I’ve heard lots of people talk about wanting to go, but had yet to actually talk with someone who’d been there.

On entry, it’s pretty plain -- it could be anywhere, except for the flapper-era music jamming away on the overhead sound system. You pay your $8 admission (less if you’re a kid, a senior citizen, or with a group), and you go in.

Our very knowledgeable tour guide was sure to give a lot of additional information not available on the tabs beside each of the pictures -- great details like who married whom, rumors and innuendo, and places in Hot Springs you can visit to round out your history lesson.

The museum itself consists of four galleries -- the Power Brokers Gallery, which tells the stories of Mayor Leo P. McLaughlin, Judge Vern Ledgerwood, and the rise of gambling in the “open town” -- the Owen Madden Gallery, named after the one gangster who was exiled from New York after a round in Sing Sing and who settled down and married the daughter of the local postmaster in Hot Springs -- the Casino Gallery, which showcases the history of the popular clubs that used to line the other side of Bathhouse Row -- and the Felony Theater, where visitors can watch a specially produced featurette on the museum’s exploration into the rumored catacombs gangsters were supposed to have employed below the city’s surface.

Along the way, you learn neat and interesting things about the town that gained two reputations -- one as a place of healing waters, the other as a place of sanctuary for organized crime. You learn about the popularity of moon-shining with the clear and clean waters from the natural hot springs; about two World War II veterans who came back and decided to try and “open up the town” (the veterans being attorney O. Byrum Hurst and Lt. Col. (later governor) Sid McMath. You find out who’s buried in Greenwood Cemetery, and who came to Hot Springs to “go legitimate.” And you learn that Hot Springs was sacred ground -- there were no gang battles here, no arguing over turf. From the beginning, big crime decided this was neutral territory -- and the big dealers from all the syndicates could come here in peace.

And there are other great stories, too -- some from people who are still living, like Ed Attwater. The 92 year old credits his long life to drinking nothing but Hot Springs water. He witnessed a lot of the goings-on during those turbulent years -- the twenties, the thirties, the forties. He recalls a lady friend of Lucky Luciano who would stay in town from time to time. He says Luciano would rent out the entire hotel for her, and send flowers every day.

It was Luciano’s arrest in 1936 that signaled the beginning of the end for the gangster culture. Our tour guide shared an interesting tidbit -- that when World War II started, Italian dockworkers in New York refused to load ships bound for overseas, until Luciano was released to go talk with them.

You learn other things too -- such as the nature of a small vault in one of the galleries. The owner of the Colonial Pancake House next door has the rights to whatever is inside. When she passes away, a contest will be held to see who can guess the contents of the vault.

You get a chance to lose a little money yourself in one of the remaining slot machines. This isn’t gambling -- you might come up all cherries or bars, but the machines have been mechanically prevented from giving payouts. And there are plenty of audio-visual displays to sit and listen to and watch to find out more than you’ll get from just the displays. It’s a good balance between interactive media.

There’s also the story of Maxine, a lady who looked after call girls and ran a bordello above one of the local clubs. Maxine was something -- she had a convertible, and she’d let her girls ride on the back of it up and down Central Avenue. There’s a unique remaining interview with Maxine Harris Jones on video to watch, and one of the few remaining copies of her unabridged autobiography (few of these exist -- what you’ll find most places is the heavily edited, “names changed to protect the innocent” version).

You discover more interesting facts about mob times in town, too -- for instance, that Tony Bennett first performed “I Left My Heart In San Francisco” at the Vapors Lounge… to a crowd of one. You learn the names of other performers and celebrities who came through town -- Frank Sinatra, Sam Giancomo, Hank Williams Jr., Eddie Fisher, Ray Anthony, Phyllis Diller.

You can even touch and hold a real Tommy Gun… no, it’s not going to fire, but it is amazing to see how heavy one of the big guns are… and it’ll make you wonder at the movies that show “gangsters” waving them out of windows. They’re far too heavy for that, in my opinion.

There are a lot of other things you’ll discover there… but if I mentioned it all, what reason would you have to go? It’s an interesting place to see, and something entirely new amidst all the historic museums and attractions along the Bathhouse strip. Pair up a visit with a jaunt over to the Fordyce for the history of the National Park, and grab a bite to eat over at the Pancake Shop across the street while you’re at it. You’ll find the Gangster Museum of America at 113 Central Avenue… for more information, call (501) 318-1717 or check out the ever-developing website at TGMOA.com. And be sure to check back -- there’s a lot of space in the building for the museum to expand, and a lot of material to use for such an expansion -- so there should be something worth coming back for in the future.

In Praise of Pie.

Remember the fried pies McDonald's used to serve back in the '70s? The tasty treats were a personal favorite of mine, even more tantalizing than Happy Meals. I always tried to talk the adults I was with into purchasing one for me. There was something about the texture, the flavor, the sheer warmth and scent of a hot pie that made me happy.

Of course, times changed. Restaurants started going healthy. "Fried" became a dirty word. The delectable temptation under the Golden Arches disappeared and I stopped frequenting the franchise.

Over the years, I've tried all sorts of pies -- meringue, cream, nut, fried, baked.

I've had all sorts of pie configurations -- round, square, wedges, some served cold and some served hot.


I've had Mile High Pie from Ed & Kay's, Ms. Lena's Fried Pies, the momentous Strawberry Pie from Strawn's in Shreveport and Boston Cream Pie at the Omni Parker House in Boston.


But I never found that first love of pie again.

That is, until earlier this month, when on a Saturday evening I happened to find an old friend in an unexpected place, a barbeque joint here in Little Rock. My joy in finding this blessing on a plate was only equalled by the more than reasonable price for the bubbling hot wonder.

I am a sucker for pies in any shape or form, and after dining on brisket and twice-baked stuffed potato I craved another sweet offering from the dessert menu. And for $1.25, how could I go wrong with a hot peach pie?

The place -- Cross Eyed Pig BBQ off Highway 10 in West Little Rock, behind NYPD Pizza. I was told it would take a few minutes to prepare the pie, so I sat down and joined in conversation with my traveling companion.

Within minutes, the pie had arrived -- a crispy, golden pocket of goodness served up with a pile of whipped cream on the side. It was very hot and the aroma drew memories out of hiding in my mind.




Somehow or another, Cross Eyed Pig has managed to recreate a childhood favorite right down to the crispy bubbles on the surface. The hot pies are perfectly augmented with the cool cream and a real bargain for someone who wants to make a trip down memory lane.

Of course, that's not all the Cross Eyed Pig has to offer. Unlike a lot of other restaurants out there, Cee-Pig prides itself on its meat, good and hearty portions that bear witness to great smoke. In fact, I can't brag enough about that smoke ring -- the hallmark of a great piece of meat. Brisket at Cross Eyed Pig is served up in chunky slabs that show off the meat's grain. A good dinner ($7.95) comes with a couple of sides -- and if you miss out on the potato salad with its heavy dose of sour cream, you're making a huge mistake.

One very welcome addition to the menu is the Twice Baked Potato ($5.75 with choice of meat). While I've encountered barbeque stuffed potatoes elsewhere, finding them in Little Rock has been more than challenging. Not only does the Cross Eyed Pig carry the specialty, it does it better than I've had elsewhere. By cooking the potatoes, scooping them out, refilling them and baking them again, they're rendered into soft and savory comfort food. Don't want meat in your potato? You can also have the potato as a side item ($3.50).

You'll find the West Little Rock Cross Eyed Pig at 6015 Chenonceau Boulevard -- out behind NYPD Pizza, or call (501) 227-RIBS. Or catch the original location at 1701 Rebsamen Park Road for lunch Monday-Friday (you can call (501) 265-0000 to order there). If you do stop in at that location, be sure to say hello to Anthony. One way or another, you'll find menus at CrossEyedPig.com.

Spicy Pies, Thin Crust at U.S. Pizza Company Around Arkansas.

Want to get warm? US Pizza Company features several pies that will heat you up from the inside.