Established in 1949, this former gas station and snack shop has been serving home-cooked delights to 'hungry-mous' travelers. The Pheasant Restaurant and Lounge is one of the first roadside eateries to specialize in local game, traditional foods, mom's kitchen soups, and good home desserts. Casual, warm, with a few dashes of farm fancy, it is a super prairie stop, Roadfood-style.
"We are not fast!" the Murdo Drive In menu warns. "We are good. We are cheerful. We are courteous. But we are not fast.... So relax." You will have a good 20 minutes to relax if you order broasted chicken, which is served sizzling hot. Likewise, burgers are hand-pattied and cyclones (like milk shakes) are made from scratch.
Soda jerking is a fine art at Edgar’s. It is no haphazard process. First, syrup and a little ice cream are smooshed together at the bottom of the deep vase-shaped glass to form a kind of sweet-shop roux; next, soda is squirted in and mixed vigorously; penultimately, a globe of ice cream is gingerly floated on top; finally, a crown of whipped cream is applied and, to that, a single cherry.
A great sweet-tooth stop in South Dakota. There are big ones and really big ones, pretty decorated ones and plain ones, “Monster” cookies and snickerdoodles. All are baked every day from dough made that day, so if you visit early enough it is likely you will get yours warm.
We love the pound-plus T-bone, a cushiony slab of meat that oozes juice at the first poke of a knife. We also ordered filet mignon, which came splayed open and wrapped in bacon, and it was amazing just how different these two cuts of beef were: each excellent, but while the T-bone had a vivid, almost gamey smack and tight-knit texture that rewarded serious chewing, the filet was cream-gentle in flavor and wanted to melt on the tongue.
Fans of diner food will think they’ve entered heaven the moment they walk into this place, take a sniff, and see what’s on other people’s plates. Bob is a true grillmaster. Eggs are made exactly as you like them; bacon (extra thick) is cooked under a press so it gets crisp and flat; hash browns sizzle alongside, absorbing the flavors of the grill.
The joy of eating in this place goes beyond its honest, inexpensive food. It's a true town café, where the locals eat – and bowl. We ordered a Dakota burger. It is not a hamburger at all, but a pile of chunky roast beef slices that are moist and flavorful, topped with a slice of cheese and served on a burger bun.