Road trip!
This isn't very timely, but I've been meaning to write something about this for days, so there ya go. On Sunday, the last day of spring break, we finally managed to get out of the house and go on a road trip. For those you unfamiliar with Columbus, Ohio, some geography: A north-south interstate (I-71) crosses an east-west interstate (I-70) in the middle of the city, and a spur (I-270) forms a badly-drawn circle around the city, allowing interstate travelers to bypass the city completely (which, compared to the highway layout in California, where travelers are forced to drive through every major city between Sacramento and San Diego, and the obligatory traffic jams in every city, is an utterly brilliant advance in transportation engineering). On Sunday we decided to get on I-270 and drive the loop.
We started out at the bottom of the circle (the closest point on I-270 to where we live) and headed northwest, rockin' out to European techno music (satellite radio, um, rocks?). We made it about a quarter of the way around (the whole trip would be about 60 miles) before we got bored and left the freeway. We saw how the upper half lives in Hilliard, and then crossed I-270 and headed back into downtown on Broad St, where we also saw how the lower half lives. As always, there was quite a difference.
The highlight of the trip was dinner at the Hickory House. We had all agreed on another restaurant, but becc367's boyfriend (who I will henceforth refer to by the codename "Jurgen Prochnow," which makes sense to those who know what he does for a living) made an executive decision when he saw the Hickory House, which bills itself the second best steakhouse in central Ohio. If that is true, Columbus's culinary culture is in a sad state of affairs. Like all good steakhouses, HH tried to put on a Western theme, but the random wagon axle and saw blade hanging from the ceiling didn't really counteract the barren walls. There were a couple of old-timey photos of General Custer and Sitting Bull, which we decided were probably the only characters who could safely adorn such an establishment (the other geographic oddity of Columbus is that Broad Street, rather than the Ohio River, is the actual dividing line between North and South; Columbus even has a cemetery for Confederate soldiers); an Indian fighter appeals to Northerners and Southerners, I suppose.
Naturally none of us ordered steak, which might have been the problem. We all ended up with formerly-frozen chicken patties, salad topped with crunchy Asian noodles, and outrageous prices. The food sucked but we all had a blast, mainly because we were out of the house (and Jurgen Prochnow's car might have some kind of carbon monoxide leak or something). We'll make another trip one of these days, but we'll pick another direction next time and see where we end up.
We started out at the bottom of the circle (the closest point on I-270 to where we live) and headed northwest, rockin' out to European techno music (satellite radio, um, rocks?). We made it about a quarter of the way around (the whole trip would be about 60 miles) before we got bored and left the freeway. We saw how the upper half lives in Hilliard, and then crossed I-270 and headed back into downtown on Broad St, where we also saw how the lower half lives. As always, there was quite a difference.
The highlight of the trip was dinner at the Hickory House. We had all agreed on another restaurant, but becc367's boyfriend (who I will henceforth refer to by the codename "Jurgen Prochnow," which makes sense to those who know what he does for a living) made an executive decision when he saw the Hickory House, which bills itself the second best steakhouse in central Ohio. If that is true, Columbus's culinary culture is in a sad state of affairs. Like all good steakhouses, HH tried to put on a Western theme, but the random wagon axle and saw blade hanging from the ceiling didn't really counteract the barren walls. There were a couple of old-timey photos of General Custer and Sitting Bull, which we decided were probably the only characters who could safely adorn such an establishment (the other geographic oddity of Columbus is that Broad Street, rather than the Ohio River, is the actual dividing line between North and South; Columbus even has a cemetery for Confederate soldiers); an Indian fighter appeals to Northerners and Southerners, I suppose.
Naturally none of us ordered steak, which might have been the problem. We all ended up with formerly-frozen chicken patties, salad topped with crunchy Asian noodles, and outrageous prices. The food sucked but we all had a blast, mainly because we were out of the house (and Jurgen Prochnow's car might have some kind of carbon monoxide leak or something). We'll make another trip one of these days, but we'll pick another direction next time and see where we end up.