A Guacamole Steakburger? Thank you, Steak 'n' Shake!

This past week, I checked my mail and found what I initially thought were just more Steak 'n' Shake coupons.


I mean, Steak 'n' Shake coupons are Steak 'n' Shake coupons, so I was pretty happy, despite what the "just" in the above statement implies -- but then I noticed that I had the Holy Grail of Steak 'n' Shake Coupons.


Well, MY Holy Grail of Steak 'n' Shake Coupons, anyway. Dan Brown and his spawn of spawn of spawn of Jesus Christ can go suck it. You too, Indiana Jones.

Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. Still, I was happier seeing this in my mailbox than I was seeing Tom Hanks with slicked back and greasy-looking almost-mullet hair or an ophidiophobic Harrison Ford, so you can see why this calls for a glorious and joyous post all its own.

What's that, Steak 'n' Shake? You want me to have a Guacamole Steakburger and fries, for just $4.49? I mean, that's what I'm assuming a "$4.49 Guacamole Steakburger & Fries" coupon means. And I think I shall. As Barney says in Season 4 Episode 2 of HIMYM, "I love this burger so much, I want to sew my ass shut."

Yes, dear Guacamole Steakburger, that is how I feel about you.

Love,
Marcy

Stop #27: Washington & Franklin, Indianapolis (#31)

On July 21, I hit Stop #27 of the quest on Washington and Franklin in Indianapolis when former roommate suggested we hang out.



I hadn't seen Molly in a while, and we stayed entirely too late, considering all we had were the 'slaw dog and fries, and the BBQ burger and fries.

I was the one with the Western BBQ burger.


Mine was kind of messy, though I didn't actually eat it with the fork and knife, though I later wished I had when I discovered a piece of barbecued onion in my purse that had caused the whole thing to smell a little funky. Regrets, I have them.

The BBQ Burger was actually really tasty; I'm pretty sure I'll end up getting it again, even though Fiance later criticized my choice because "BBQ doesn't go on sandwiches."

Yeah, well, pickles don't belong on your peanut butter sandwich, but you don't see me picking at your choices. Well, till now. 'Cause you started it.

Part of why Molly and I sat for so long was that we just needed to catch up. In the time since we last visited, Molly started her surgery rotation at a new location (on this particular day, Molly had seen a patient trying to ... well, use some illegal substances even in the hospital, in her hospital room), and I had attended the Catholic Pre-Marriage Conference in Warsaw, also known as the "NFP! NFP! Lots and lots of Catholic babies and NFP!" conference. At least in my mind.

No, in all honesty, it wasn't as bad as I expected, though NFP would sound like a not-so-crazy solution if they could find some people who used it to have an actually reasonable number of kids. And I mean by non-Catholic standards. Using NFP and winding up with six or more kids makes it sound like there were probably some oops-babies in there, especially when your spokes-couple mentions early in their educational video that they had initially wanted four.

My talk of the conference, though, made Molly a bit sad. I wasn't really sure why; she wasn't the one who just got done with a seven-hour "conference" in which several married couples stared her down and implied that she should be trying to push at least eight kids out HER "hoo-ha."

Then she showed me why:


She now thinks she's going to be one of those crazy old cat ladies, 'cause she is currently single. I'm pretty sure she won't be a crazy old cat lady; she's not currently crazy, she's only 25, and she only has one cat. And her singledom is probably greatly attributable to the fact that she's in med school and has not-much free time. Seriously, not much free time. In five years, she'll be 30, which is far too young to be considered a crazy old cat lady. Also, unless she takes some ridiculous drugs between now and then, I find it hard to believe she'll lose total sanity within the next five years, too.

So hold out hope, Molly! I don't think you'll get to be a crazy old cat lady for at LEAST 25 years. And considering the world's gonna end in 2012, I don't think you have anything to worry about!

Molly's artistic digressions made me want to get artsy, and when she mentioned she's thinking about getting a tattoo, I decided it was a sign. We discussed some of her options, some of the things that I've seen done poorly, some of the things I've seen done too often, and some things that are just questionable ideas.

And then, I came up with Molly's soon-to-be tattoo. Check out that circled doodle. And sit in awe. 'Cause that will be Molly's tattoo. She told me so. And surely she's not lying just to spare my feelings about my art skills or something.


We were about to book her appointment to get this ink done when we realized it was quite late, and she had to get up at super-early so she could go back to that surgery thing, so I guess the tat will have to wait.

"I'll take the butter burger, please!" or, The Story of How One Woman Lost her Steak 'n' Shake Virginity (Guest Blogger)

And now for something completely different: A post from a guest blogger!

Who is this guest blogger? A friend of mine named Tara. We "met" a few years ago through a mutual interest in blogging, I suppose you could say ("met" in quotation marks here because we haven't actually met in person). Her name links to her blog, and I encourage you to check it out.

So without further ado, meet Tara, and her relationship with the most significant restaurant in my life.

"I'll take the butter burger, please!"
or, The Story of How One Woman Lost her Steak 'n' Shake Virginity

I'll admit it - I have a long history with Steak 'n' Shake.

Not because I'd ever been there before, mind you. Because I refused to go there.

I'm not even sure how or why it started. I do know that in the summer of 2002, one of my best gal pals extolled the virtues of Steak 'n' Shake to me and repeatedly attempted to convince me to go along with her as she grabbed numerous late-night meals there each and every week.

"No," I kept saying. "I just can't do it."

Something about Steak 'n' Shake grossed me out. Was it the name? A little bit. Was it the fact that I didn't eat fast food, and wrongfully assumed that's what Steak 'n' Shake was? Partly. It also didn't help that the only Steak 'n' Shake in my area at the time was in the G H E T T O.

When I "met" my friend Marcy in late 2008 and realized that she had what can only be called "a Steak 'n' Shake problem", I had been set in my ways for so long that at best I would ignore her stories about her numerous Steak 'n' Shake visits; at worst I maybe poked fun of her about them (to her, not behind her back!). But when she started her quest - "Around the State in 70 Steaks. And Shakes." - I had to follow along.

Now, the idea to participate in said quest was something that came to me slowly but surely. Maybe it was that Marcy was going out of her way to visit every Steak 'n' Shake in the state of Indiana...in the course of a single year. Maybe it was the mouth-watering pictures of burgers and milkshakes on the monthly Steak 'n' Shake coupon page that kept finding its way into our mailbox. Or maybe it was the anagrams.

Okay, it was probably the anagrams.

But I digress.

Finally, one Sunday I pulled the Steak 'n' Shake
coupons out of our junk drawer (seriously, that's what we call it) and announced to my husband that we were going there for dinner.

"What the heck is Steak 'n' Shake?" he asked - because he never lived anywhere other than Connecticut (until late 2009) and we don't have Steak 'n' Shakes there.

"Err...I think it's sort of like Friendly's?" I explained (yes, with the inflection of a question. HA! rhyme.) "But with milkshakes instead of sundaes."

Husband wasn't sold, but he knows better than to say "no" to me and off we went.

The restaurant wasn't too busy when we arrived, but the hostess didn't seem to have any idea on God's green Earth where to sit us. Seriously, I couldn't tell if she just didn't want to be there or if she maybe wasn't intelligent enough to handle her job. We were finally shown to a booth and greeted by our waitress - who was the same age as the hostess (late high school? just graduated? an age that's so far in the past for me I can no longer tell exactly how old kids are when they're in that general range) but the exact opposite of her in personality. Her name was Mandie and although I think Husband scared her a bit with his anger over his placemat puzzle, she was absolutely great. Really friendly and engaging.

I, on the other hand, impressed her with how quickly I solved my anagram. I maintain that I did not use the picture of a stack of 32 pancakes as a hint. (Yes, we counted the pancakes, and there are 32 pictured.)

My meal was a Wisconsin Buttery Steakburger, fries, and a Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough milkshake with chocolate chip cookies on the side (!!!), which I just had to order after reading about it in one of Marcy's blog entries. Husband ordered a Pepperjack melt and a Peach milkshake.

The verdict?

::DRUMROLL PLEASE::

...it was all delicious! Though I'm not sure about the butter burger (a bit too greasy, but that should have been obvious) we both wolfed down our food, and when we were too full to finish the milkshakes there you bet your butt we took them home with us.

And - excitement abounds! - those coupons even came in handy! Albeit only for my burger and Husband's milkshake.

Our Very First Ever Steak 'n' Shake visit was a rousing success. I think it helped that when we walked back outside, stuffed to the gills with burgers and fries and milkshakes, there was a gorgeous classic car parked right in front of the restaurant.

Dear Steak 'n' Shake,

Though you may never replace Friendly's as my favorite burger-and-ice cream-joint, I will be back. Just keep sending those coupons. Thanks for being so good during my first time.

Yours, butter burger filled stomach and all,
Tara

Stop #26: Schererville (#217)

Stop #26 took us to Schererville, Indiana, just an hour or so after we left the Steak 'n' Shake in Valparaiso.


Kathy and I met up with a former student worker of mine, Terri, who is awesome; a couple of other friends, Toni and Aaron, who made a recommendation for me for a DJ for the wedding; and someone you've all been missing:


Brett!

Sadly, he wasn't feeling all that happy when he saw us arrive. He was feeling more like this:


Namely because he thought we were ridiculously late. Which, we were a bit late -- but he was early, and that's not our fault.

Still, it was an exciting time. Kathy and I did arrive.


And it was good to see some kids I haven't seen in a while.


And I got to meet someone new: Toni's husband, Aaron.


And Aaron turned into quite an assett on this stop. Because, when we played the Steak 'n' Shake story game, he was our reader.

And so that all you readers can enjoy the story too:

Once upon a time Marcy sucked at driving and was really late to see some good friends, thus their friendship ended with fiery vengeance.
When Marcy arrived, Corrie, our server, became our referee for our battle.
The battle was eminent.
It was complete with straw wrappers and hyperactive hot peppers.
Suddenly, Edward Norton showed up, wielding a sword and vowing death to those who continued the attack with straws (but not hot peppers).
He was quite partial to hot peppers as a weapon, they are so versatile yet so straightforward.
Unlike ketchup that just ends up everywhere.
But ketchup is good in life and people enjoy it, unlike Marcy.
People also love fries with their ketchup. Suddenly, it's peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly, peanut butter jelly, peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat -- with ketchup laden fries. Do I hear the "Beer Cheer"?
And Jesus said, "Why yes, I believe I WILL have a beer!"
Which he then miraculously turned from Keystone into Guinness.
Then got trashed off of car bombs and Black and tans.
In an attempt to get back on Brett's good graces, she bought him a milkshake, but did it work?
TO BE CONTINUED

It's true. I did buy Brett a milkshake, though not so much to get back in his good graces as to thank him for driving Kathy back to Chicago after our Schererville stop.

Of course, the milkshake benefited me, too: I promptly stole his cherry.


Also, I think it's been proven that hot peppers are not necessarily the most effective weapon, as Kathy's pretty much immune.


Yes, Kathy tends to douse her chilli in this stuff. So much that she usually requires two bottles. She's kind of my hero sometimes.

As for me, I ordered a California Double Steakburger, fries, and a Cherry Coke.

Oh yeah, and a receipt, well-done.


And thus ended Stop #26, with good times had by all, except Brett, who has no soul and therefore will never experience good times.


Just kidding. I miss Brett. Steak 'n' Shake just isn't the same without him. Which can mean only one thing: Brett must come back to Indiana. Even if I have to kidnap him. Har har har ....

Stop #25: Valparaiso (#318)

On July 2, I had to head back to Indiana, so Kathy joined me to hit a couple more Steak 'n' Shakes on the way. Starting with the one in Valparaiso, which is where we attempted to have breakfast.

Unfortunately, though we built in a good amount of cushion time, traffic was terrible as Chicago drove all its residents away for the holiday weekend.

So we had lots of opportunities to get shots of the interesting things we saw on the road back.

Such as, a sign for Krazy Kaplan's fireworks.


As well as a sign for Krazy Kaplan's fireworks.


And then, a sign for Krazy Kaplan's fireworks!


All told, we got pictures of 10 different billboards for Krazy Kaplan's fireworks.


And those are just the ones we got pictures of. It was ridiculous. And did you see the picture of TWO billboards for Krazy Kaplan? Is that necessary? Really? Maybe Kaplan should take all that extra money he's got, since he can afford two billboard where one would be more than sufficient, and attach it to a firework he's going to shoot off for the Fourth.

We also saw other signs of weekend patriotism, though. Beyond just the fireworks billboards.

For example, below, an example of patriotism at its best:


Big, loud, inconvenient, and through my dirty windshield.

Eventually, we did see the light at the end of the tunnel. Also through my dirty windshield. It seems Daisy might be due for a wash.


However, we already knew at this point that the likelihood of us making it to the Valpo Steak 'n' Shake in time for breakfast was slim.

And we felt angry.


Sure enough, we finaly got there -- at 11:15 a.m. Fifteen minutes too late for breakfast.

And I was sad.


I wrote a letter expressing my anger to Chicago.



Kathy tried -- and failed -- to defend her city and throw the blame on my beloved Hoosier state.


The back and forth continued.

Dear Chicago,
I hate that you make your residents want to EVACUATE, causing traffic problems for us Hoosiers just trying to get home.
No Love,
Marcy

P.S. It was INDIANA that thought closing lanes of traffic over the 4th of July holiday was a good idea. The SAME Indiana that is BEGGING for Illinois tourism. We came and YOU FAILED!

P.P.S. Kathy is delusional.

P.P.P.S. INDIANA = FAIL

CHICAGO = MORE FAILIER!

For the record, I was confused by Kathy's comment about the begging for tourism, until she explained that Indiana sites are constantly advertising on Chicago radio, which makes me sad for Indiana. Come on, home state. We don't need tourism dollars from Illinois -- I'm sure it's dirty money anyway. And not just in your standard "make sure you wash your hands after you handle it because you never know which dollar bills have been used to pay strippers" kind of way. I mean in the "maybe laundered, coming from the mafia, was used to finance some sort of crime" kind of dirty money.

Our back and forth was cut short when we got our food. Which was the closest we could get to breakfast: the Fruit 'n Yogurt parfait.


I thought it was tasty.


Unfortunately, we couldn't stick around Valparaiso for terribly long, as we had to meet others elsewhere in the Region for lunch. Others that include someone whose face has been terribly missed around these here parts lately. But you will have to come check out the next post to figure out who exactly that is. Unless you're, you know, at least marginally intelligent and have been reading for a while. ;-)

Interlude #3: Glendale Heights, Illinois

My Steak 'n' Shake Spree continued with a non-official stop -- non-official because, once I got to Kathy's house in not-technically-Chicago-but-really-close, she suggested we go to, where else?, Steak 'n' Shake.


Kathy, of course, made her own personal sign.


As we arrived, Kathy pointed out the amusing: a Bally's right next door to the Steak 'n' Shake.


A Bally's which I could have used after this particular interlude in the quest, because it was here that I made probably the first -- and, really, only major -- mistake of the SnS Spree: I got another milkshake.

Key Lime, this time. I rhyme.

Now, I reiterate, I did not feel even remotely sick at any point in the Spree, even though I had two milkshakes within a five-or-so hour period. Unlike the night before Lent began.

See that? That is the face of someone who is about to have
a lot of regrets. On Fat Tuesday.

Apparently, two milkshakes isn't enough to knock me down. Though I'm sure it's not helping in that goal to lose weight by the wedding.

While enjoying our shakes, Kathy and I also worked on some anagrams.

Kathy's solution for

ZEN LBE MOO TAF SEAMRYMIZ

was

FAT LIMBS MOO ZEN RYE MAZE!

I, of course, worked on the standard

LAL UYO NCA TEA KENPCAAS!

which translated this time to

OYE LUNK ALPACAS AT ACNE!

I maintain that LAL UYO NCA TEA KENPCAAS does NOT translate to ALL YOU CAN EAT PANCAKES.

Speaking of pancakes, sometime during our visit with the Glendale Heights Steak 'n' Shake, Kathy and I decided that a brilliant decision would be for us to get up early enough the next morning to be able to make it to one of the other Steak 'n' Shakes in the Region and grab breakfast. So shortly after we finished our milkshakes and anagrams, we decided to head out and get some sleep.

And so went the Steak 'n' Shake Quest Interlude in a Chicago suburb Steak 'n' Shake.