I'd hoped to get there in time to play miniature golf, but we didn't feel we had time for mini golf as well as dinner and the drive home. So we went to the Golden Jersey Inn.
Instead of a basket of bread, they brought us dishes of coleslaw, apple sauce, and sweet potato bread. The coleslaw was not special, but the apple sauce was excellent, with a touch of cinnamon enhancing the apple flavors. The sweet potato bread was fantastic, especially when spread with the cinnamon honey butter. It was so good that we bought a loaf as a gift and a loaf for ourselves.
I ordered the combination meal with chicken and noodles and beef and noodles. I have a soft spot in my heart for thick noodles, and these obliged. Both the chicken and the beef were mild and savory. Were I to choose one of them for the next time, I'd choose the beef; the chicken was a bit too bland for my ideal.
For a side, I got the deep-fried cheese curds. These were surprisingly non-greasy, with a clean herby taste and a texture that squeaked against my teeth a bit.
The big winner of this meal, though, was Lori's chicken and dumplings. The first bite of this sumptuous dish immediately called to mind a grandmother. Perhaps not my grandmother, who never made chicken and dumplings, nor Lori's grandmother, nor the silver-haired grandmother we met in Dallas driving a Mustang convertible with the top down--but some apple-cheeked, checked-apron-wearing Jungian ur-grandmother.
As we left the restaurant, we met a little orange cat who clearly considered herself the mistress of the premises, but graciously permitted our intrusion.
This sign shows a small fraction of the dairy-related names that were applied to anything that could be named. The dairy puns were everywhere.
Lori drew my attention to the plaster cows that guided the line for ice cream, and particularly their sneakers and mascara.
I regret that too much ice cream in New England has dulled my memory of the details of our ice cream, though it was very good.