On Saturday my husband informed me that my mother-in-law was babysitting on the condition that he take me to XXX Root Beer Drive-in. I'm a fan of root beer especially "microbrews" or house brews. I'm looking forward to trying this one again. It's served in a frosted mug, but most impressive was the ambience. The drive-in caters to the classic car crowd, they often host shows, and it is filled with car, 50's and personal memorabilia. The staff is friendly, albeit with attitude, and the burgers were amazingly filling.
Walking up the side on my way to the door I smelled onion rings. We must have passed a vent, but they started a craving. I wondered if it was a ploy, like the Norwegian Bakery in Disneyland. Only there it's more blatant, the odor of freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafts from a special vent above the door.
The next object to catch my eye was a sign guaranteeing the food is bad for you. A gentleman who was seated next to us asked for diet root beer. The waiter shouted to the kitchen, "this guy wants diet!" Raucous laughter followed and the waiter left. He came back a few minutes later and asked if they wanted to try again.
The waiter was personable. He gave me an excellent recommendation and I left stuffed, trussed, and ready to roast. I can't wait to go back and try the shakes, root beer floats and a different burger, although next time I think I'll split it.
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