The Square Shooter Eating House

Iain with Nana, at the zoo

We're in Rawlins, Wyoming. It's about halfway between here and there, so it's a good place to stop.

Given Iain's obsession with breakfast food, we went looking for someplace that serves breakfast all day. Enter the Square Shooter Eating House.

My expectations were low because, you know, we're on the road. But I should have known (from the mounted bison on the wall. And the four deer. And the beaver, stuffed and posed with an artfully chewed chunk of wood. And the small, brown bear.) better.

Charles ordered the fried half chicken, and it was absolutely amazing.* Crispy, dark brown, salty and spicy, juicy, amazing. I ate corned beef hash (Crispy! Salty! Smoky!). We both had hash browns, which were - brace yourself - crunchy salty nubbins of love that made me wonder why people even like french fries.

Iain ordered pancakes, ignored them, and then ate all my scrambled eggs. With grape jelly. Whatever.

They close at 7pm and stay closed all weekend. So it's not exactly McDonald's. But then, it's not exactly McDonald's. They've been in business since the 50s (which was the last time they bought coffee cups, I think) and I can see why.

*[Please note that the sign at the door says you must eat "finger food" with your fingers. If you use silverware they make you do the dishes. FYI.]