The Iowa food caucus

Credit: RYAN DONNELL

Credit: RYAN DONNELL

LE MARS, Iowa — To get to Archie’s Waeside, the James Beard Award-winning steakhouse here that has been run by the same family for three generations, you drive past a branch of the ubiquitous Pizza Ranch chain, cross over a set of railroad tracks and inch down an unlit road toward a low-slung and scantly marked building hard by an RV dump.

It is a route that can test the most sophisticated GPS unit, but the payoff is worth it: succulent porterhouses and tenderloin cuts from locally raised cattle, Napa Valley wines, and deep-fried cheese balls brought out on pushcarts, not trays, by welcoming, seasoned waiters.

The Archie’s experience has all the marks of the best Iowa dining: It may take some extra effort, and the setting will probably not be fancy, but the food is often memorable.

This is not to say that every popular restaurant in the state has won national recognition and been a fixture on Jane and Michael Stern’s Roadfood map. But Archie’s helps dispel a myth that has taken hold — at least among some members of the press corps who descend on the state every four years to cover the presidential caucuses — that Iowans subsist on heat-lamped slices from Pizza Ranch and pork chops on a stick.

The dining landscape in the state that begins the presidential nominating process has far more to offer than pedestrian local chains and state-fair-novelty renditions of their favorite white meat. There is an increasingly robust restaurant community in Des Moines, the capital and largest city; an ambitious bistro in Davenport opened by an East Coast transplant who gave up a job as a John Deere corporate chef; and an array of small-town standbys and standards, some of which offer a pizza worth driving for and others that deliver, yes, James Beard-quality fare.

“801 is great, but for God’s sake, there is such a good food scene beyond it in Des Moines and outside Des Moines,” Sue Dvorsky, a former Iowa Democratic Party chairwoman, all but bellowed when the issue of dining stereotypes was raised.

She was referring to 801 Chophouse, the pricey meat emporium and de facto clubhouse of the Iowa caucuses — a place so popular among visiting politicians and the news media that The New York Times published a floor chart showing which television anchor was spotted at which table during the run-up to the 2004 caucuses.

This reporter can confirm that the fare at 801, part of a Midwestern restaurant group, is typically excellent (try the pork chop, the creamed corn and the corn ice cream), as it is at a host of other Des Moines restaurants. Lucca, an Italian spot in the city’s fashionable East Village, and more recently Proof have become destinations for upscale dining. Sean Wilson, the chef and owner of Proof, has transformed the modern-style Mediterranean bistro into something special, thanks in part to a focus on local ingredients.

But what makes Iowa, well, Iowa are not the restaurants clustered around the downtown Des Moines hotels, but icons like Smitty’s Tenderloin Shop, a cozy brick diner that is blessedly close to the airport. Since 1952, it has been serving a staple of the Iowa culinary landscape: the King Tenderloin, a deep-fried, pounded-thin pork cutlet that sprawls far beyond its hamburger bun. It is best eaten with pickles, onions and mustard.

If that specialty is an Iowa signature, the sense of community at Smitty’s is characteristic of Midwestern hospitality. Ben Smith, part of the third generation of his family to helm the deep fryers, greets customers by name, and the customers often know one another as well. The interlocking relationships are what draw the presidential hopefuls and their aides: They know the voters they greet will pass the word about which candidates came in to other regulars who weren’t there. Those people, in turn, will tell their family and friends.

“These are the places where people meet: This is where you’re going to get the scoop,” said Grant Young, an Iowa Republican strategist who is something of a culinary ambassador for the out-of-staters who move to Iowa to work on campaigns. “It’s where your grandpa has been going forever and they talk about the local high school football team, corn prices and, oh, yeah, I don’t know about this Trump guy.”

Yet just as the Iowa caucuses cannot fairly be covered entirely from Des Moines, Iowa’s food scene cannot be fully appreciated without leaving the capital. Some of its most rewarding restaurants are in smaller places where their identities are closely woven with their communities’.

Mention Decorah, a village in northeastern Iowa near the Minnesota border, to any political type and you’ll hear an enthusiastic “Mabe’s!” That is the beloved pizza parlor that some people will drive miles out of their way to visit if they happen to be in that corner of the state.

Outside of pork tenderloin sandwiches, no other dish may be as closely associated with Iowa as the loose-meat sandwich (think sloppy Joe, sans sauce). The best-known source of this chopped hamburger on a bun is Taylor’s Maid-Rite, whose roots in the central Iowa town of Marshalltown date from the 1920s.

As a major pork producing state, Iowa has its share of barbecue. Hickory Park in Ames, home to Iowa State University, packs them in for its solid ribs.

Montour, a small city in central Iowa, means Rube’s Steaks, where you pick your steak and then have the option of cooking it yourself on a huge charcoal grill. And Denison, in western Iowa, has Cronk’s, the oldest continuously operating restaurant in the state (since 1929). The draw is its renowned pies — chocolate cream, strawberry rhubarb — though there are added attractions for political tourists, like a photo of George McGovern on the campaign trail.

For many reporters and campaign staff members who find themselves in Iowa election after election, early memories can have a powerful hold. Michael Halle, a top aide in Hillary Clinton’s campaign here, worked on President Barack Obama’s 2008 caucus effort and quickly grew nostalgic as he recalled Fuel Nest, the Mount Vernon coffee shop where he often worked.

“They had the most amazing raspberry scones they would take out of the oven every day,” Halle said.

For this reporter, Davenport, on the Mississippi River, will always be associated with Duck City Bistro. Charles Moskowitz, a Massachusetts native who was the chef and owner for many years, quickly dispatched any assumptions about Iowa with a booming greeting that was more Emeril than American Gothic. Moskowitz came to the Midwest to be a corporate chef at Deere & Co., which is based across the river in Moline, Illinois, but left to start his own restaurants, opening Duck City in 1991. It is now run by his son, Jeremy Charles Moskowitz.

Not every attraction in this state is a multigenerational institution. Pullman Bar & Diner in Iowa City, home to the University of Iowa, opened only a year ago but is already drawing attention for its fried chicken, served with local honey on the side. One of Pullman’s owners is Nate Kaeding, a native better known for his foot than his knife. He was a standout Hawkeyes place-kicker who played nine seasons in the NFL.

No mention of Iowa City is complete without citing the venerable Hamburg Inn No. 2, a diner equally renowned for its pie milkshakes (they blend a pie slice into the shake) and for dozens of pictures of visiting would-be presidents.

But Iowa surprises. Yes, the pies and pork are often the primary attractions. But then one can walk into La Juanita, a casual Mexican restaurant in Sioux City, and find carne asada that rings authentic.

Proud locals can be sensitive about perceptions from “back East,” as they often call the East Coast. “Some people fly into Des Moines and think they’re going to have to wait for cows to cross the runway before they can land,” said Young, the Republican strategist.

But Iowa has something some of the finest restaurants on both coasts lack: close access to their goods. Le Mars, where Archie’s Waeside is, is also home to the ice cream purveyor Blue Bunny.

When Bob Rand, the owner of Archie’s, was growing up here, he left school once a week to go to the stockyard in Sioux City with his grandfather to fill their menu. Rand still serves only beef from cattle that grazed in Iowa or over the line in Nebraska at his restaurant, which was honored last year by the James Beard Foundation as an American Classic — “regional establishments that are treasured for their quality food, local character, and lasting appeal.”

“We hand-cut every steak,” Rand said. “It just doesn’t change.”

If you go

— Archie’s Waeside, 224 Fourth Ave. NE, Le Mars; 712-546-7011; archieswaeside.com.

— Cronk’s, 812 Fourth Ave. South, Denison; 712-263-4191.

— Duck City Bistro, 115 East Third St., Davenport; 563-322-3825; duckcitybistro.com.

— Fuel Nest, 103 First St. East, Mount Vernon; 319-895-8429.

— Hamburg Inn No. 2, 214 North Linn St., Iowa City; 319-337-5512.

— La Juanita, 1316 Pierce St., Sioux City; 712-279-0772.

— Lucca, 420 East Locust St., Des Moines; 515-243-1115.

— Mabe’s, 110 East Water St., Decorah; 563-382-4297; mabespizza.com.

— Proof, 1301 Locust St., Des Moines; 515-244-0655; proofrestaurant.com.

— Pullman Bar & Diner, 17 South Dubuque St., Iowa City; 319-338-1808; pullmandiner.com.

— Rube’s Steakhouse, 118 Elm St., Montour; 641-492-6222; rubessteaks.com.

— Taylor’s Maid-Rite, 106 South Third Ave., Marshalltown; 641-753-9684; maidrite.com.

— Smitty’s Tenderloin Shop, 1401 SW Army Post Road, Des Moines; 515-287-4742; smittystenderloins.com.

— 801 Chophouse, 801 Grand Ave., Suite 200, Des Moines; 515-288-6000; 801restaurantgroup.com.

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