Iowa Supper Clubs

By Megan Bannister

From relish trays and Old Fashioned cocktails to prime rib and fried fish, supper clubs are a quintessential part of midwestern dining culture. In Iowa, hundreds of supper clubs once dotted the state's rural highways and byways, serving as havens for hungry travelers and community gathering places for small towns. Opened in 1912, the Lighthouse Inn Supper Club in Cedar Rapids is one of Iowa's oldest supper clubs. In their heyday, Iowa supper clubs were also home to nefarious activities, with frequent visits from mobsters, bootlegged beverages and illegal gambling. Supper clubs like Archie's Waeside and Breitbach's Country Dining have even won James Beard Awards. Author Megan Bannister relays the delicious details of an Iowa staple.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The History Press
• Release date: Aug 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781439670422

Megan Bannister

Megan Bannister is a writer and digital marketer with a passion for kitsch and Americana. Raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Megan relocated to Des Moines, Iowa, where she attended Drake University and received a bachelor's degree in journalism and mass communications. As an adopted Iowan, she has become a devotee of the Iowa State Fair but still hasn't committed to being a Hawkeye or Cyclones fan. In addition to her freelance work, Megan also writes a blog inspired by offbeat destinations, roadside attractions and "world's largest" things. She has always loved food and is delighted to publish her first book on such an important piece of midwestern culinary history. Megan lives in Des Moines with her boyfriend and an ever-growing collection of houseplants. Follow along with her adventures online at OlioInIowa.com.

Book preview

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INTRODUCTION

There are few cultural institutions that have the same impact as a neighborhood restaurant. Feeding people is an act that immediately inspires a shared sense of intimacy. Within the cozy walls of local restaurants, people can mark the passing of their lives. From the first time a relative brings them in as a child and the luxury of special desserts on birthdays to their wedding rehearsal dinner and the first time they step through the door with kids of their own, these are the places that become interwoven in some of our most cherished memories.

No matter where they grew up, I’ve come to realize that many midwesterners have these distinct dining memories. In fact, many of them take place in supper clubs across the region. There are the older Iowans who recall their family reserving visits to the supper club for special occasions during childhood. Many others remember first dates, wedding anniversaries and everything in between enjoyed over relish trays and prime rib. I even have one friend who would take the pizza money her parents left when they went out and made the short walk up the street to the neighborhood supper club and order herself a Shirley Temple, chicken strips and cottage fries. Whatever the memory, the impact of local supper clubs has been etched onto the hearts of Iowans for generations.

As I researched this book, I discovered with profound certainty that supper clubs are special, almost sacred, places. The more I talked with people, the more I realized that supper club memories are unique and visceral, even after decades because they feel so much like home. Stepping into your local supper club is like stepping into Cheers—a place where everybody knows your name and they are truly glad that you came. Some of the biggest and smallest moments in the lives of countless midwesterners take place in the confines of their local Saturday night haunt. In their simplest form, that’s what supper clubs are all about.

There’s a special sort of reverence when it comes to listening to someone’s supper club memory. In a manner that’s similar to folklore, there’s little way to differentiate fact from fiction when it comes to supper club stories. In the confines of a supper club, history becomes legend over years of telling and retelling.

As I dined at the few remaining supper clubs around the state, I began to notice a trend. Over and over again, my group of diners—typically in our late twenties and early thirties—was the youngest table of people in the place. Sure, there were occasional exceptions or times when we observed multigenerational family dinners, but for the most part, I noticed a distinct gap in the people participating in supper club culture. Talking with restaurant owners and long-time staff I discovered the same trend: their regulars are dying off and there isn’t a definitive group stepping in to replace them.

Now, this might seem like a slightly morbid way to start a book, but I believe there’s immense potential in this truth. Supper clubs have staying power because of their ability to transcend space and time. They are unpretentious, unwavering and all but impervious to passing trends. But supper clubs also offer comforting stability and consistency—an unspoken understanding that a favorite dish or usual table will be there for support no matter what else may change. In a time when so much is uncertain, there’s something deeply reassuring about that. There’s something that’s worth salvaging.

Supper club history is an oral tradition that largely hasn’t been written down and most certainly isn’t documented online. Supper clubs are refreshingly old school. Many don’t have websites, and you can be almost certain you won’t find them on social media. These are places that put their time and energy into face-to-face interaction in an unwavering way that borders on familial. Yet as their physical locations have disappeared, their memories live on in the minds of the people who frequented them.

More than anything else, I hope this collection of stories inspires you to share your memories of restaurants that feel like home and continue to create new ones. I hope these places and the people who care so passionately about them pull on your heartstrings like they did mine. From river to river, it has been inspiring to witness the way that communities across the state rally around this part of their local history in both good times and bad. I’ve been humbled to hear what so many families have sacrificed over the years to continue selflessly serving others in both literal and figurative ways. I hope that reading about all of them stirs something in you the way it did in me. These hopes are not a plea but rather a promise to shine a light on the power that restaurants like these have to bring us all together over a good meal.

I hope this book and the restaurants in it inspire you to plan a road trip of your own. Sample a supper club and you’ll dig into one of the most unique pieces of culinary history that the Midwest has to offer. I know that it may not always be easy or conventional—supper clubs have become the road less traveled—but I promise it will be delicious.

Part One

A History of Supper Clubs

1

MIDWESTERN SUPPER CLUB CULTURE

There are few things more quintessential to the upper Midwest than supper clubs. Like homemade biscuits in the South or hot, buttered lobster rolls in New England, supper clubs hold a special place in midwestern culture that no other dining experience can touch. With their wood paneling, hearty meat-centric portions and stiff cocktails, supper clubs embody classic midwestern sensibility.

Like all good Midwest traditions, supper clubs are full of heart and community commitment. Much of their magic is rooted in their unchanging tradition and ability to stay the same over the course of trends, new technologies and decades gone by. The best supper clubs are the ones that remain unwavering even with the passing of time, perfectly preserving the nostalgia of their heyday, even for diners who weren’t around to see it. As the culinary landscape and dining trends have changed over the years, supper clubs haven’t entirely found their place in the modern restaurant scene.

Ironically, some claim that the first documented supper club wasn’t located in Iowa or Wisconsin or even in the Midwest at all. In the late 1930s, Milwaukee, Wisconsin native Lawrence Frank moved west and opened the Prime Rib restaurant in Beverly Hills, California, which some consider the first supper club on record. However, others claim that Frank was inspired by eateries that already existed at the time in his home state of Wisconsin and brought those ideals and dining practices with him to the West Coast. Regardless of the truth, Frank’s impact on supper club culture was significant. He is also responsible for inventing the seasoning mix Lawry’s Seasoned Salt, which was served exclusively at his restaurant until he began selling it to retail stores. Today, the blend of seventeen spices and herbs is still a favorite ingredient and table topper at many midwestern supper clubs.

While some of Iowa’s classic supper clubs were founded before Frank’s California restaurant, many didn’t adopt the official supper club moniker until later in their history. In fact, many of the restaurants that have become classics today come from small beginnings and were originally roadhouses or key clubs. These modest businesses sprang up out of necessity, stepping in to fill the void as far-flung eateries to feed cross-country travelers and offer a place for hardworking Iowans to get a hearty dinner.

Over the years, these classic watering holes transformed into places where travelers and community members could count on good meals and a welcoming atmosphere that made them feel like family. During the supper club boom in the ’40s and ’50s, these classic eateries were reserved for special occasions and celebrations, serving as places to socialize and be seen by others in the community. Their enduring legacy of hospitality and community has kept these establishments alive. Even today, supper clubs can be found across the upper Midwest in Iowa, Illinois, Michigan, Minnesota, Ohio and Wisconsin.

When Prohibition began in 1920, many of these vintage restaurants became private clubs where diners could flock for a discreet drink, whether that was the bootlegged hootch made in house or from a bottle provided by another patron. Supper clubs were places where regulars could find a good meal and a stiff drink in the days when liquor was scarce. For a membership fee, these customers received the key—whether it was a true physical key or not—to access the restaurant and any illicit activities that might happen inside without fear of someone tipping off the police. This practice kept supper clubs flourishing, even during difficult times. Even after Prohibition was repealed in 1933, many of Iowa’s supper clubs remained classic key clubs, though this was due more to necessity than routine. While Prohibition was no longer a concern, the 1934 Iowa Liquor Control Act created a monopoly of state-owned liquor stores, meaning the state had direct control over the sale of all alcoholic beverages with the exception of beer. According to the State Library of Iowa, "Iowa’s state-owned stores were initially established in out-of-the-way places where they were hard to find, and customers had to line up at a counter and order their liquor, not being allowed to browse through the shelves. Until the early 1950s, Iowans had ‘liquor cards’ that were punched by clerks with each liquor purchase so that it was possible to keep track of a resident’s alcoholic purchases. In what became something of a courting custom, parents would demand to see