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The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Monday, May 13, 2024

A Prosaic Meal at Parkway

At Parkway Family Restaurant, 1221 Ann St., most of the food is misnamed but agreeable nonetheless. The diner is unremarkable, with regular dishes and decent prices. If it weren't for the fact that I carry those qualities in high regard, I'd probably dismiss this humble place by the highway. Instead, I find Parkway an adequate place to go when you're looking to be satisfied and little else. 

 

 

 

It's 4:30 in the afternoon and the Beltline is backing up. Fortunately, this is just background clutter the customers of Parkway can ignore. Their little spot just off Fish Hatchery Road offers some quiet compared to the parking lot that is Highways 12, 14, 18 and 151. 

 

 

 

Down the counter from me one of the very regular customers (who make up approximately 90 percent of the clientele) is staring at this mess outside. He's got his usual in front of him-ribs, potatoes and gravy-and thinks the traffic jam is amusing. He'll be leaving in a few minutes, but not before he downs his coffee and thanks the waitress, calling her \Hon."" The man, somewhere between 45 and 55, doesn't mind that the potatoes were the dominant part of the meal and dwarfed his ribs in size. 

 

 

 

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For me, the beef cabbage stew was the same way. With a spoon swirling the depths, the meat went missing for the first few sips. The whole bowl had portions too small for its moniker. Meanwhile, the cabbage made the stew seem like some manner of diluted sauerkraut. It was the broth-the little that evaded the cabbage-that made the stew worth its weight. 

 

 

 

I really didn't mind that my liver and onions were more vegetable than meat. This was preferable, though, as the onions were a little better than their accompanist. Cooked to translucence but holding a bit of their natural acridity, they made the entr??e. The liver fell apart a little too easily, succumbing to the faintest assault with a knife, and it went down dry. The plate required both liver and onions to make a decent meal, and I'll insist that the name be reversed. 

 

 

 

By the time I made it to the American fries, I figured the potatoes would fit their description. This time, the dish was right, not just in title, but in content as well. They were a near-ideal balance of crispness and crumbling. Their size was the only drawback-so big they required a few seconds to settle. 

 

 

 

Altogether, the meal cost $5.50. This is the average price of the average meal in this average place. The menu puts it another way, proclaiming that at Parkway, ""our prices are very moderate."" By my calculation moderate says enough, but if the management wants to exhibit an enhanced form of moderation, that's up to them. 

 

 

 

It was my mistake not to head down to Parkway late in the week, when it has all-you-can-eat offerings. Wednesday brings fried chicken and spaghetti, Thursday substitutes the spaghetti for perch and Friday closes down the week in fine fashion-with beer-battered perch and cod. The prices jump by a little more than a dollar, but anytime the opportunity for mass consumption comes in under eight dollars, it's worth checking out. 

 

 

 

Parkway didn't really impress me, but it left me feeling a little more conventional. The only thing that made me think twice about the place was when the cook walked by and said, ""How's your liver, son?"" There are only two people who should be asking me that-my doctor and my dad-but I think I'll let it slide in this case. 

 

 

 

blschultz@wisc.edu.

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