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Megan Bannister Iowa Supper Clubs

THE HISTORY PRESS

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One never knows when the inspiration for an unforgettable road trip might happen. But you will most likely experience many of those unignorable “let’s go right now” moments that will get you to hit the road while you read Iowa Supper Clubs, released in August from The History Press. Megan Bannister adds the historical flavor to these iconic Midwest restaurants with her debut book—and the mighty portion of nostalgia that’s served up from this classic dining concept is very much the featured special page after page.

The Cedar Rapids area is blessed with The Lighthouse Inn and the Ced-Rel, but as you will learn from Bannister’s writings, there were once many more supper clubs all over Iowa, including within the Eastern Iowa area. Even though times have changed, the ones that have remained are keeping the tradition alive.

One of the most useful sections of Iowa Supper Clubs is the appendix where Bannister details some very useful tips for enjoying your experience at your first and several future visits. She defines highballs, grasshoppers, pink squirrels and many of the other cocktails you saw in those grainy home videos from decades ago, as well as classic cuts of steak and the fresh relish trays that you’ll wish were at every meal. Throughout the book, Bannister’s enticing photographs illustrate many more classic supper club creations, such as the all-American favorite onion rings, legendary barbecue ribs, seafood nights and some local twists that you can only find at these Iowa institutions. Bannister makes you crave the open road as much as you’ll crave the food she describes. Reading Iowa Supper Clubs, you begin to dream about a trip to the Dubuque area just so you can say you’ve eaten at Iowa’s oldest restaurant in Balltown. Or you’ll want to trek to Mason City for Greek spaghetti. Never craved braunschweiger? You just might when you get into the meat of this book—and I can tell you that I’ve taken a break from my routine for sillier reasons!

EACH SUPPER CLUB, WHETHER IT’S BYGONE OR STILL OPERATING, HAS ITS OWN STORY.

Bannister doesn’t hold back on the historical element of the book. Each supper club, whether it’s bygone or still operating, has its own story, and she blends in tales from the locals that will make you want to mix a Manhattan and wonder why you haven’t sought out each and every one of these clubs yet. You now have an excellent motivation to do so with this new book as your historical guide. Just be careful—you may not want to say, “Jesse James sent me.” Or maybe you should! Pick up your own copy of Iowa Supper Clubs to see where that line might work out for you. As for me, I could really go for a hunk of prime rib and a side of pickled herring right now. —Jay Goodvin

Mitch Nicholson

Abandoned Iowa: Vacant Heartland

AMERICA THROUGH TIME

The origins of Abandoned Iowa can be traced back to the fall of 2010, when author Mitch Nicholson was still an English undergraduate student at a small private college in Marion County. Academic pressures combined with a hot, stuffy dorm room and the claustrophobic setting of a small campus nearly proved to be unbearable and Nicholson “needed an escape,” as he writes in the book’s introduction. Opting not to return right away to the “sauna of a dorm” when classes were done for the day, Nicholson often jumped in his car, drove to a nearby gas station to buy some cheap cigars, and hit the road with his iPod within reach and the air conditioner cranked up to full blast. “As I was not native to the region,” Nicholson writes, “I found myself spending a lot of time simply driving around for no other reason than to find out what the county had to offer.” It wasn’t long before he started noticing abandoned structures during his excursions. Describing them as “resoundingly quiet, still and nonjudgmental,” Nicholson says, “Their aesthetic appealed to my anxiety-filled conscious.” Nicholson had the idea to document these locations, registering the username “Abandoned Iowa” on a blogging service that same year. After moving back to his hometown and graduating with a bachelor’s degree in 2013, “the urge to seek out abandoned structures persisted.” To this day, the photo-journalist project is still being kept alive on social media— and it resulted in the engrossing book Abandoned Iowa: Vacant Heartland.

Nicholson’s photographs of decrepit bridges, forsaken farmhouses, deserted mom-and-pop stores, empty churches and orphaned schools in small towns across the Hawkeye State are haunting and inspire a sense of awe. Captured with somber beauty, these images have the potential to steer readers into eerie emotional territories, as they did for me, even evoking a sense of nostalgia or loss for places I’d never heard of, let alone visited. It can be easy to forget that these images depict tangible structures that once served fairly mundane purposes in the everyday lives of Iowans in these communities and visitors who happened to come across them—many of whom are now gone without a trace. As a pandemic and economic hardship spread throughout the state, more sites once familiar to us will endure the same fate. “My role is to capture, document and present the structures as they are—regardless of their future,” Nicholson says. The images are accompanied by text providing details about the structures, their locations and the historical context that led up to their inglorious demise. Unsentimental and objectively captioned, the information contained herein provides fascinating dimensions to this gallery of forgotten monuments of Iowa life.

Nicholson has visited over 200 abandoned structures, “each with a background and history as rich as Iowan topsoil,” finding that there are consistencies and patterns that emerge: “Everything on Earth,” he writes, “including the planet itself was once cosmic dust. And to dust, it desires to return.” —Mike Kuhlenbeck

THE FALAFEL JOINT

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