I learned of the place from my friend, Bob. He loved antiques, and he dined there regularly with his lady- friend. They drove the forty miles on Interstate 80 to exit 112: Morris, Illinois. He spoke of the tasty food, the good service, and the ambiance that the bar and the antique furnishings created. It took five years before I finally visited the Rockwell Inn on U.S. route six just west of Morris. All I can say is this: What took me so long?
The Inn sports decor from a turn of the century (1893-1906) motif. Budweiser commissioned the magnificent bar in 1893, for their pavilion at the Columbian Exposition in Chicago. Made from mahogany and rosewood, it has a history of its own. The light fixtures represent a collection from 1900’s vintage hotels. Beveled glass windows divide rooms and allow prisms of color to flow into the dining area from the garden. The unique brass door handles came from a business that suffered the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The walls sport a collection of Saturday Evening Post covers featuring Norman Rockwell paintings. There are also a few signed Rockwell prints scattered about. The cover art gave birth to the name Rockwell Inn over thirty years ago.
I tried different entrees at each of my visits. In every selection, the food was of high quality, in generous portions, and prepared to satisfaction. The steaks are juicy and delicious. A bread bar compliments the salad bar stocked with an ample variety of veggies and prepared salads. The bread bar has freshly baked loaves of white, wheat, and dark rye. It invited me to cut a generous slab to enhance my loaded salad plate. A barrel filled with pickles sits in the corner almost hidden from view.
After the wonderful repast had me loosening my belt, the server tempted us with the desert tray. I should have eaten desert first. Peggy and I shared a specialty of brandied vanilla ice cream. The desert came presented in a wide rim wine glass filled with a heaping swirl of ice cream blended with Christian Brother’s brandy, and topped by a flaming sugar cube.
If you still have some disposable income, treat yourself to a meal at this fabulous restaurant. Enjoy the art, the bar, and the great cooking. * * * * *
Filed under: Cooking, family, Memories, restaurants | Tagged: Columbian Exposition, Morris, Norman Rockwell, San Francisco Earthquake, Saturday Evening Post | Leave a comment »
This BLOGGER took some needed downtime. Peggy and I went south and east until we hit some serious water, then followed the coast further southward. We were seeking warmer weather, and some colorful spring flowers. We got it all. Along the way, we stopped to visit friends from another life. I have a list of friends I want to visit before I die, and I got to see four of them.
After lunch, we sauntered to the harbor and took a cruise around the bay for a waterfront perspective. One of the porters on the ship lives in a house boat at the dock . He is retired, and fortifying his income working on the cruise boat. He commuted by taking a thirty second walk from his tiny float home across the dock to the sightseeing boat. Peggy and I got sun burn while basking on the deck. She was white knuckling the chair the whole time, not being one for taking boat rides.
We arrived at the Staybridge Suites in Savannah, Georgia on Bay Street early. Our room was not ready yet so to kill time, we booked a trolley tour of the historical district. What a city! I always wanted to see Savannah, but somehow this part of the country eluded me. Savannah was founded in 1733, by General James Oglethorpe. He was also the architect of the city layout. The historic district is a beautiful grid of streets divided into districts by squares or parks. Twenty four distinct little squares define open spaces between congested avenues of row houses and mansions. Twenty two of the squares still exist. Two have fallen prey to civic center development. In between the streets with the squares are larger more elegant boulevrds. The median dividers on the boulevards are filled with pink, white, rose, and red azaleas. Shading the streets are giant oaks, three hundred years old, and dripping with dainty Spanish Moss. 
Peggy and I roamed the streets from square to square taking house tours, and visiting museums. Among the more notable homes we visited was the Juliette Gordon Low birthplace. Juliette founded the Girl Scouts of America In 1912. The house has been preserved, and is in excellent condition. It contains many pieces of the original furnishings. In the Telfair Museum of Art we saw two wxhibitions by black artists. One of them by a man named Robert Colescott has a series of contemporary paintings on display. It is my opinion that this man was on some serious shit while he painted. The second artist, Elizabeth King, displayed a ceramic mannekin head the size of an apple and with infinite realistic detail . She photographed the head from various angles against a black background; the photos are magnificent. She is a true artist, while Colescott seemed to paint only while high, or maybe he just can’t see too well.
The Savannah river front along River Street is a string of shops, and restaurants, converted from old cotton warehouses. A Green and Yellow Trolley runs along a track laid in the center of the cobblestone street, reminiscent of streetcars I rode in Chicago during the forties. A container ship passed by as we shopped. Savannah is the second largest container port in the US. Here is a piece of useless info, the largest export out of the port is chicken; shipped to China.
This evening I met with my men’s club. Five of us dined at a new restaurant in Orland park called Ottimo. Originally the building was occupied by a mid-eastern restaurant that was quite interesting. We dined there two years ago. First strike against it was that it didn’t serve alcoholic beverages. Not a good thing for my group. Secondly, we felt we were a part of a some terror group. The clientele were mostly Muslims. Women all around us wore head scarves. A group of dark men sat at a round table in the back smoking a hookah. We don’t know what they smoke in one of those things, but suspect it to be something mysterious. The food was mediocre, and the service the same. That’s probably why they are no longer in business.After that evening we vowed never to return.
