Fish Fry

On Saturday night Steve took my brother and me to a fish fry at The Elks Lodge in a small community a strong 45 minutes north of us.

We've obviously very familiar with both of these things thanks to our small town Iowa upbringings. But the words Fish Fry and Elks Lodge on a Saturday night haven't been in my vocabulary since I've had one ounce of control of my life.

One of Steve's favorite past-times is fishing and performing all the disgusting steps it takes to get a fish from a lake/pond/ocean to the dinner table. The smell of fish makes me sick. And for some reason the idea of eating fish like this almost takes me over the edge.

When we walked in, it was an overwhelming smell of fresh and stale smoke along with fried fish and huge hellos from every single person there for the people who invited us. Add the 2-Liter Hot Damn bottle that my brother immediately noticed and you've got the complete visual.

This fish fry is the doing of one man who apparently fishes 24/7. This was a free meal for everyone and included tons of sides and desserts. If you like the main dish, it's actually a very sweet deal.

And the lovely couple that invited us included us at the long table along with various children, grandkids and a great-grandson. The couple kept telling us how happy they were that we were there. The daughter even invited us on the spot to Thanksgiving dinner! And one of Steve's friends who lives in the area stopped by to say hi and, of course, he knew everyone in the family.

Small towns can be so different but yet they're all the same!