Tuesday, The Teenager and I took a trip to Jamesport, Missouri.
Jamesport is a small Amish town in Northern Missouri. We dropped The Kid at the sitter and took off for our small journey, just mother and son.
The town is so small, their biggest boast on the welcome sign is that maps and public restrooms can be found at City Hall.
It's a quaint little town that takes you back to olden times. If it weren't for the cars, you'd think you could just walk outside and hop on your horse.
As a matter of fact, some people could. This is the parking lot for horses and buggies. (The Teenager asked me what the "No Hitchin'" signs meant.)
We ate at a small restaurant owned and run by a Mennonite family, The Gingeriches. Mrs. Gingerich waited on us. They served homemade food that was to die for. The Teenager says it was the best fried chicken he's ever eaten.
I think I'll cry now.
As you can see, the lunch consisted of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, scalloped potatoes with ham, salad and homemade bread with their own jams. Not pictured is the rhubarb cake we had for dessert.
The Teenager asked me what rhubarb was and I couldn't even tell him if it was a fruit or vegetable. I could describe what it looked like but not much more than that.
We also shopped while we were there. We bought candles, room spray, embroidered dish cloths, and lotions.
All and all, it was a fabulous day.
After that huge lunch, the ride home was a little miserable because all I wanted to do was take a nap.
Psst. Rhubarb, per Wiki, is botanically classified as a vegetable; however, in the United States a New York court decided in 1947 that since it was used in the United States as a fruit it was to be called a fruit. A side effect was a reduction in taxes paid.