Burger joint of the week: Hurley House Cafe in Hazen.

Burgers, breakfast and fried pies - three things that make Hazen's Hurley House Cafe a must-stop. Take a look at what this excellent burger joint has to offer.

Slices of Sweetness at Scrumdiliumptious.

• GRAV WELDON
• COLD AND CREAMY: Slices of ice cream at Scrumdiliumptious

There have been a lot of new cold treat restaurants popping up lately — Orange Leaf, Yogurt Mountain, Gellates… but only one that I know of has specialized in that good old fashioned confection we know as ice cream. That’s the new Sherwood parlor, Scrumdiliumptious — a quaint little green-painted wonder themed on a cross between Harry Potter and Willy Wonka. And it’s something else.

One particular Sunday afternoon Hunter popped up with the words “ice cream!” when we were doing our rounds. I’d heard about the place during one of my radio gigs and figured it was worth a shot. We took Grav in tow… I mean, after all, ice cream is the sort of thing you share with friends. Hunter had managed to fall asleep in the car on the way over, and I let Grav head inside while I wrestled her out of her seat.

• GRAV WELDON

It was strange… we were recognized right away. That’s not exactly usual, but it was if Randy and Sonya Pettit were ready for our visit. Or it could have just been one of those happy Sunday coincidences, who knows.

I suspect more, though, that’s it’s the Pettit’s style to show off the ice cream parlor to everyone who walks through the doors. While we were there everyone was greeted in a like manner, shown around, explained the concept and the ice cream and treated with affection.

The menu options are interesting. All of the dishes have whimsical names, like the Everlasting Gobbstopper (bubble gum ice cream with gumballs in a sugar cone), the Fizzy Whizbeez (orange sherbet topped with Pop Rocks) and the Weslee (strawberry cheesecake ice cream with strawberry sauce, whipped cream and nuts).

• GRAV WELDON
• PEANUT BUTTERY: The Oompa-Loompa

We sat down with a couple of their creations. I tried the Oompa Loompa (Fudge Tracks and Peanut Butter ice cream with butterscotch or caramel and M&Ms) — a rich concoction almost too much to handle. We talked with the Pettits a bit in-between customers. They’re an interesting lot. I asked why they had thought to open up an ice cream shop.

We had to get in the car and drive all the way to Little Rock to get good ice cream,” Randy told me. “We thought other people might want to have an ice cream parlor closer, too.”

• GRAV WELDON

• GRAV WELDON

It’s a neat place. All of the confections listed in the menu have been photographed and are up on the wall, so if you’d rather choose that way you have a choice. There’s the marvelous pink spiral staircase in the front, too. “We had to bring it in and it was a couple of feet too tall, so we had to have it cut down and rewelded and tried again,” Randy said. He and Sonya are very proud of that staircase. It’s cool, a very unique way to show off the stuff the places offers.

• GRAV WELDON
• TALL ORDER: The Scrumdiliumptious Signature Cone

Grav was in the process of photographing his ice cream cone. He’d gone for the signature item, the Scrumdiliumptious signature cone ($5), five slices of ice cream in Chocolate, Strawberry, Pistachio Nut, Birthday Cake and Orange Sherbet on a big cone. It’s one of the most fanciful desserts I’ve seen in a long time. The combination has been carefully thought out, and I daresay it works, one flavor into another.

• GRAV WELDON

• GRAV WELDON
• SPOON ON NOSE: Apparently a family trait

Hunter got her share, too — trying a bit of whatever she wanted. For some reason or another she wanted to wear her spoon on her nose. This I can only attribute to family weirdness and cannot offer more than a cursory apology.

But… slices. Yes, slices of ice cream. Instead of doing regular scoops like everyone else, Scrumdiliumptious creations are made with slices — which I bet would make for a better portion control system, myself. They use Edy’s Ice Cream, and it’s rich. Heavens it’s rich.

• GRAV WELDON

They also have different magnificent pies, cookies and such, and lots of traditional candy favorites, too. The Pettits were telling me about a customer who’d come in who is undergoing chemotherapy and who can only taste very strong flavors.

• GRAV WELDON

• GRAV WELDON

They picked up and now sell those old fashioned big square cinnamon suckers just for her.

• GRAV WELDON

Scrumdiliumptious has only been open since October, and some of the shelves are still empty. But it’s coming along. If you’re looking for a good place for treats and stuff, this really is a cool place to find them. It's open noon til 11 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and 1-10 p.m. on Sunday, and it’s located at 8000 Highway 107 in the same shopping strip as Little Caesar’s and Chinese Pavilion. (501) 835-3300 or check out the Facebook page.

The Shrinking Tree and the Lost Ass.

When I was a kid, my mom made a point of always taking me down to the State Capitol for a tour to see the big tree and experience the holiday. I recall those visits with the wonder of a child, sure -- of a massive Christmas tree erected in the center of the rotunda, so tall it thrust up through the second level. It was adorned with all sorts of handmade ornaments from all over the state -- some were fantastic works of amazement created by our state’s finest artists. Others were the work of schoolchildren. I can even recall one year searching out and eventually finding an ornament I had a hand in -- I believe from one of my classes at Geyer Springs Elementary.

We started going when my mom was playing with the River City Band as one of the many groups that fills the rotunda with music through the month of December. In the late 80s and early 90s I had my own chance to perform there with Parkview’s high school band and choir, maybe even the Arkansas Youth Symphony.

In my head I always remember there being a massively large tree jutting up through that round opening on the second floor. But I’ve been challenging my memory lately since viewing this year’s display.

Beyond those bright brass doors, within white hewn marble walls that make the perfect backdrop for the stories-tall red sashes and the bunting of the season -- you’ll find this year’s tree.

The tree -- well, frankly, it’s much punier than I remember. Not that it’s a bad tree -- don’t get me wrong there. It’s a Leland Cypress donated by Dr. and Mrs. Robert Cole from Tom’s Christmas Tree Farm in St. Francis County. It’s gorgeously thick and a good representative of an Arkansas Christmas tree with its 75 ornaments representing each of the state’s 75 counties. But it’s not much larger than what the average Joe has standing in the corner of his living room this Yuletide. Humble, in fact.

I had to actually call my mom to make sure I hadn’t dreamed up the big tree. She confirmed my recollections. We both gather that since the tree is donated, maybe folks are just not donating the really big trees any more. I suppose I should do a little more research and find out why.

So, the ass. Years ago, there was a donation drive to bring in money for a hand carved wooden nativity for the State Capitol Grounds. This was back in the late 1980s… there was a booth at the Arkansas State Fair just inside the main gate where you could stop by, write down your name and address and put down money on what you wanted to donate your money for. Of course people put money on the baby Jesus, on Mary and Joseph and the Three Wise Men and the shepherds and whathaveyou.

My mom decided she wanted to make a donation, so she put her money where she figured no one else would be putting it. She put her money down on the ass.

A few weeks later, she received this strange letter in the mail from the group that was raising that money. It was apparent it was some sort of form letter, but still, it was odd to see the words “thank you for your donation to the ass.” Mom’s still got that letter somewhere.

Years passed, and Mom noticed the wooden nativity hadn’t been put up on the State Capitol Lawn. She wondered what had happened to the display. My mom works hospice, and one of her patients had a son who worked on the grounds, so she asked him if he’d look around and see if he could find out what had happened to it.

A few days later all heck broke loose in the news over the alternative display put up by the Arkansas Society of Freethinkers. The newspapers and the television stations all came out to the Capitol and did their stories.


It wasn't long before Mom got an article sent to her in an envelope. Inside was a newspaper clipping with a photo of the nativity scene with the notation “we found your ass!”

Root Beer Memories.

My earliest memories of Little Rock consist of things that were around the UAMS area in the mid-70s. I can remember the (much smaller) campus, the old hotel on the corner (pre-scary days), the sign on the paint store down Markham and the big golf course at War Memorial. And I can recall Frostop.

It was a decent sized restaurant on the corner of Markham and Cedar, and it always smelled of hot beef. I can’t quite clearly recall whether the big mug was there in my earliest memories, but I do clearly recall it being there as I got older. I remembered a wax-paper wrapped burger and a birch-y root beer.

Perhaps I should feel a little old -- being able to remember back more than 30 years like that. Ah, well, we all age.

I think Frostop moved across the river when I was in college. I remember it was on JFK next to the Pizza Hut, and then it moved north into a former Burger King in front of Harvest Foods (now Savers). And then a short time back I saw it was gone -- and I lamented.

It wasn’t gone, though. It was just moved another block up the road into a strip mall, and the old mug that had stood in front of the store was retired. It’s easy to overlook if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

I have to admit, it had completely fallen off my radar until the World Championship Cheese Dip Competition. It was after the competition had ended -- I’d eaten way too much cheese dip and wanted some liquid refreshment. I don’t know what imprinted the idea in my head -- maybe a conversation, who knows. I just know it came to mind when Grav and I were looking for some place to grab a beverage.

We ducked into the little red-clad dining room. Grav got a Mountain Dew and I had a Snickers shake, trying hard to get the gooey cheese-filled feeling to subside. We sat down and went over our shoot schedule for the week.

“They do root beer here?”

“If it’s like it was when I was a kid, it was good. Birchy.”

“Carbonated?”

“I believe so.”

We were so beat.

One of the ladies working that day had overheard us talking about the menu. I hadn’t remembered gyros being offered, but then again all I’d ever eaten then was the burger. She brought out a sample of the gyro meat. It was pretty good, but we were so out of it neither one of us could get into a review. And we’d left cameras in the car. I did promise Grav I’d bring him back over when he came back into town again.

Took a month, but we had one particular day where we both did television (KARK Today at Noon) and radio (Dave Elswick’s show on KARN) and needed a break in-between. I hauled Grav over to Frostop and insisted he had to order the root beer -- and if it was non-carbonated and he griped about it I was going to be irritated. I was kidding. Mostly.

We stumbled in and stared at the menu, still trying to get over the natural adrenaline of being on TV. Grav had to try a gyro. I took a little longer but settled on a crab cake sandwich. Our hostess took a couple of frosted mugs out of a freezer and pulled us a couple of root beers. We went to sit.

There’s just something fabulous about a frosted mug. The outside of the glass gets that great frosty glaze. Inside, everywhere the root beer touches becomes a soft layer of root beer flavored ice. Pieces of that ice break off and rise to the surface of the root beer, giving it an icy head that’s just amplified by tiny carbonation bubbles.

The flavor is bright like a bitterly cold winter’s day, not all that sweet or cloying but clear and a little woody, even a little astringent. The beverage smells of sassafras and sugar. It’s hard not to down the entire mug at once… even though the carbonation threatens to unleash an avalanche of belches, the infusion is light and goes down smoothly. Refills, by the way? They’re included.

Grav’s gyro came out first. As we photographed it, both of us were trying to pin what was bugging us onto it. It was served up on a platter with fries and
tzatziki sauce, a golden toasted pita filled with meat, tomatoes, onions and lettuce. The meat was a little different from a regular gyro, much beefier and with a different sort of seasoning from what you get at Layla’s or Ali Baba’s. After a minute, it came across.

“Lettuce,” Grav stated. “There’s lettuce on here.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never seen lettuce on a gyro before.”

And you know, he was right. I hadn’t, either. It was odd, maybe a bone to the American crowd that came through. Not that it was bad, it was just unusual.

My crab cake sandwich was delivered a few minutes later. The cakes were very hot, New Orleans style with white lump crabmeat, bits of celery and onion and ample breading. There was one crab cake on each half of the sandwich, under a roof of soft Po’Boy roll with lettuce, tomato and remoulade. The sauce gave it a nice tangy kick, and the crab cakes themselves were really filling. I appreciated that each half of the sandwich was wrapped in wax paper, because knowing me I’d have ended up with remoulade in my lap.

The fries that came with our meals were done the right way -- brown instead of pungent yellow, crispy on the outside and soft within. They’re spiced well enough to be good on their own, but I found them to be excellent ketchup-bearing fries, nice long sturdy strips thick as those fat kid pencils you get in elementary school.

Each of our “value meals” (sandwich, fries and root beer) were $8.95 -- just a bit more food than we could eat but plenty for the money. I was tempted when I originally ordered to get another one of those shakes, but by the time we were done with our meals I had completely lost interest. Just too full.

I’m not sure if there are any other Frostops in strip malls anywhere. The chain itself folded in the 80s; the Frostops that remain (mostly in Louisiana and around the Great Lakes area) are all independently owned and operated. I wonder if North Little Rock’s Frostop is the only one to serve gyros. Maybe.

Been meaning to go back, too… not only to do a proper burger review but to take advantage of the offers that keep ending up in my email box… right now I have one that says “Free Cheese Sticks from Joe Garah” I want to use. I get offers about once a month like that, because I signed up in the store for updates through email. You can, too. Of course, I have so many restaurants to cover that it’s hard to get back to any one place -- but I’m gonna try.

You’ll find Frostop at 4517 JFK Boulevard in North Little Rock. It’s open 10 a.m.-9 p.m. Monday through Saturday and noon to six on Sunday. (501) 758-4535.

The 'Cue and The Pie.

DeValls Bluff has been on the culinary map a long time. A really long time. Now, I know why I go -- for some of Ms. Lena’s Whole Pies. Can’t drive through DeValls Bluff without stopping for a chat with Ms. Viv. That’s just the way things are.

But when I tell people to go to DeValls Bluff, I often get the whole “what, you didn’t stop for Craig’s Barbecue?” And my usual answer is “no.” Pie in my book usually trumps barbecue.

Sometimes, though, you gotta stop and have a bite of something hearty. And one Saturday afternoon after a hard day’s work, Grav and I found ourselves in the general vicinity. And he wanted to check the place out. So we dropped in, middle of the afternoon for a bite to eat.

And like most good barbecue joints, Craig’s isn’t a looker. It’s a little whitewashed building on the side of the highway with barely enough parking to spit at. Inside the walls are simple paneling with strange woodland wallpaper strips, the menu’s an ancient letter board on the wall, and the clientele is varied… at least around the lunch hour. We managed to come in when we were the only out-of-towners.

You order at the counter. You just do. You don’t pay, you just tell whoever’s taking your order what you want and you go sit down. She’ll bring you whatever beverage you asked for and disappear in the back of the building, where aromas play in the atmosphere and pans clink and the like.

The thing about that aroma -- it’s somewhat cinnamon scented, not normal for a barbecue joint or sauce in my opinion but that’s what I get out of it. It’s rich, too, but not sweet. I wondered what the sauce would be like.

You don’t go to a barbecue joint to order a cheeseburger -- though there are cheeseburgers on the menu at Craig’s. There are also dinners of beef, pork, chicken, ribs and Polish sausages and of course family packs to take with you. But if you’re hungry from a day of hard work, all you really want to have is a sammich, a BBQ sammich, and here they come in pork ($3.75) and beef ($3.80).

“Mild, medium or hot,” my hostess asked when I asked for that beef sandwich.

“Mild.”

“Chips?”

“No, but I’ll take as much iced tea as you’ll drown me in.”

She didn’t take any lip from me, just glanced over at Grav.

“Um, beef,” he stated.

“Mild, medium or hot?”

“HOT.” I gave him a weird look.

“Chips?”

“No, I’m good, but do you have Mountain Dew?”

She grunted and turned on her foot, waving with her hand towards the dining area. We took this as an indication we should sit.

A moment later she came sweeping through the doors with our beverages in hand, plunking them down on the table and attending to a guy who’d come in for a pickup order. Both of us took after our beverages… that hard day’s work having drained us.

Our hostess started to come out again, but turned in the doorway and started conversing with the guy right behind it. “You sure this is beef?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Well, which one’s hot?”

He started to answer but I missed that bit as she closed the door again. It wasn’t half a minute later when she came sweeping back through the door with our sandwiches wrapped in wax paper on little Styrofoam plates. And then she was gone again.

Grav resisted shooting the food at first, hunger being such an overwhelming monster. But we got into what we needed to do and shot our sandwiches. They were messy -- very wet with the sauce and the cole slaw. I was afraid to turn mine over for fear of disintegration. For the most part they were identical in appearance -- the hot sandwich looked darker and had darker edges to the brisket within -- and the hot one smelled of Tabasco and black pepper.

One bite told me a lot. Instead of a chopped beef, this was thinly sliced beef brisket, just thick enough to require teeth but not thick enough to be overly chewy. It came in three layers tucked up underneath a pile of sweet slaw and that bun. It was smoky, perhaps a hickory wood smoke.

The sauce, though -- you know, I know people who swear by this sauce, who come from states over to pick up a gallon when they’re around (it’s $20 a gallon, in case you’re wondering). And it is indeed a sauce that would be hard to duplicate. Craig’s sauce ditches the sweet of many regional barbecue joints for a mature, savory sauce spiked with notes of cinnamon and sorghum. I couldn’t tell you for certain what it is, nor would I divulge that secret if I could, but it’s… it’s meaty. Eating a barbecue sandwich at Craig’s feels like eating a hearty meal. It’s a lot of pack to the punch.

We couldn’t stay… we had another appointment down the road. When we were about done with our sandwiches our hostess came back out to us with our check, which we paid up at the table in cash, less than $10 to get us back on the road including the tip left on the table.

We headed down the road and dropped in on Viv at Ms. Lena’s and took home a couple of pies -- a banana cream pie for me and a chocolate pie for Paul -- his favorite chocolate pie in the world..

So there you go, there really are two reasons to stop in DeValls Bluff. You’ll find Craig’s Barbecue right there on Highway 70 -- one of those “you can’t miss it” sort of places on the south side of the road on the west side of town. Ms. Lena’s is just around the corner a block down the road, turn right on Highway 33 and it’s right there on the left. Couple of places you gotta try.

And you can order your own pies from Ms. Lena’s for $13 each (a few like egg custard and strawberry are a wee bit more) and impress the heck out of your company at Christmas. Call (870) 998-7217 — the store’s open Thursday-Saturday 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.