Lima beans. Corn on the cob. Mashed potatoes with brown gravy. Famous fried okra year round. Brown beans. Turnip greens. Cornbread dressing. Eggplant Casserole. A call for green beans at the window beside the swinging kitchen doors. One of the white aproned cooks comes out carrying, two handed, the giant pot of fresh green beans, delivering them into an almost empty tray on the long steam table. Spinach with chopped boiled eggs. Macaroni and cheese. Hot, Cloverleaf yeast rolls. Garlic toast. Hot water cornbread. Wheat rolls. Chocolate pie. Famous pecan pie. Coconut pie. Reaching in to snag the biggest piece of Egg custard pie. Strawberry shortcake. Green jello.
For the taking, silver-wrapped slips of butter, lemon wedges, Half & Half pods for the mugs of hot coffee. Glass tumblers full of iced water and iced tea, condensation dotting the sides.
Step inside the curtained glass foyer, welcoming with outdoor lamps like stepping onto a neighbor's porch. Benches for sitting out the long line or meeting your favorite crew. Walk past the long wall painted with views of Arkansas' hills and meadows. Highchairs with plastic wrapped trays waiting for the youngest customers.
A usually slow walk, peering over people's heads to see what was being dished out that day. Running into your best friend or an acquaintance from long ago.
Easy favorites and hard decisions. My Daddy's vegetable plate - macaroni and cheese, dressing and mashed potatoes. I have to have the greens and hot water cornbread. Egg custard pie.
Three in my party. Servers carrying trays when necessary, one-handed, snatching up pepper sauce or ketchup from the condiment counter. Sitting under a starry sky or in the larger room with a wall of windows. A favorite spot, four top pushed against the windows. Feast quickly laid out across the table. A cloth napkin. The Beverage Cart Lady pushing seconds and thirds of water and iced tea. A china plate with lemon wedges. An extra napkin.
Four generations of Franke's running the ship since 1919. Cafeterias in Little Rock, Hot Springs, Fort Smith, North Little Rock and Conway. Easter. Mother's Day. Holiday pies for pickup. Sandwiches for the downtown workers. A large to-go order of fresh, hot catfish headed to my home.
One of the oldest restaurants in Arkansas. Just down my road. A family atmosphere. The best visit, the long table in the windowed room, full of family and friends, maybe presents. Young and old.
The Karo Nut Pie was awarded Best Dessert in Arkansas by Zagat's in 2015. Franke's was inducted into the Arkansas Food Hall of Fame in 2018. Delicious, homemade family cooking by scratch, brought local, regional and national attention to the beloved restaurant.
Since the pandemic and the closing of the last restaurant in 2020, besides the food, I have missed seeing the familiar faces of the people who offered true service. Many worked there for years. All contributed to the experience.
The sound of helium filling up balloons. Passed out to the younger crowd. Mothers trying to tie the attached ribbons around fidgeting wrists.
Check out and chocolate mints. Pecan pies displayed for carry out. Easy banter.
Step outside. A little one learns not to let go of the balloon. In a second of release, she sees the balloon drift away. Her mouth opens in surprise. The balloon really is gone, forever.
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