Happy November, Hawkeyes!

Though fall “break” hasn’t proven to be as much of a break from schoolwork as I had hoped (I still need to write that essay and finish that project!), it did allow me to see my parents again for the first time since August. While I suppose it’s only been a few months, I feel like I’ve been separated from my family for way longer and am very thankful that they were able to visit me. 

But there’s a catch to my fall break: I get to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, but not in Virginia. Thus, last Friday began our first-ever time celebrating Turkey Day–or in this case, Turkey Week–in the state of Iowa. I figured I would share both what I am grateful for and not grateful for about this experience:

Grateful: Molly’s Cupcakes still having a location in Des Moines 

For those who never toured Iowa City in the olden days (last August) before “Molly’s Cupcakes” shut down, their rich brown butter frosting and decadent desserts were a sweet staple of campus. Fortunately, we had time to go to the Des Moines shop on our way to the city. Biting my sweet tooth into one of those long-awaited cupcakes was a delicious reunion that I doubt any slice of pumpkin pie can beat.

Not grateful: the gloomy fog & looming winter storms

I have never encountered something quite as moody as Midwestern weather. One minute will be a sunny 70 degrees, and the next will have a frosty, knifelike chill. The wind gusts these past couple days have been vicious enough to slam car doors on their own, apparently reassuring my mom–who is originally from Indiana–that she made the right choice moving to the temperate East Coast. The forecast is also predicting single-digit temperatures and thick blankets of snow starting soon. So, even though my parents were initially intending to stay a full week and even travel with me to Kansas City for the Christmas lighting, all of those plans have been wiped out by the weather. They will now be heading home early, and I’ll be back in the dorm early. I won’t lie, the solemn mask of fog over the world makes the idea of being in a nearly-empty building feel especially lonesome. Hey, I guess I do have those essay deadlines to keep me company, though.

Grateful: That exciting Hawkeye win over Michigan 

Part of my parents’ motivation for coming to Iowa rather than having me travel to Virginia was that they wanted to see Big Ten football live. Our final home game of the season proved to be a riveting finale, with Iowa breaking a tense tie in only the very last few seconds. I have recommended the Kinnick experience before, as I think being immersed within a stadium of bustling energy and school spirit is a distinct perk of being a Hawkeye. Plus, we were treated to another of the state’s vibrant, powder pink sunsets. 

Not grateful: Midwest rights of passage 

I used to wonder why my Iowan friend’s car was always splattered with mud or why the catchphrase seemed to be “it’s not the cold, it’s just the wind that gets ya.” Until we got out of our car after driving on dirt roads, and standing in the blustery wind, I found myself saying the exact same sentence so many Midwesterners repeat to me. Maybe I’m worried about becoming too different from my hometown roots, or just don’t want to give my friends the satisfaction of saying that they were right, but the Midwest might be beginning to take hold of me. Before I know it, I’ll be telling people that their Carhartt gear will last them a lifetime and start dumping ranch on everything I eat.

Grateful: Our trip to Des Moines & Roseman Bridge 

Since we were no longer going to Kansas City, we decided to explore Iowa instead. The Hotel Fort Des Moines was like stepping into the past: chunky, old-fashioned keys were displayed on the wall, sleek copper patterns decorated the elevator floors, and the lobby held a rustic elegance. The only problem was that the heater in our room exclusively spat out cold air–and refused to turn off. While the Arctic feel of the suite docked it on some points, I still found the hotel pretty charming.

What stole my heart more, however, was the Hessen Haus. I’m a big fan of German food, as I have mentioned in my blogs before, so I was already expecting to enjoy the meal. Then I stepped into the warm restaurant, made especially appealing after a long rainy walk, and stood beneath the blood-red glow of the ceiling. Krampus stood next to a crimson Christmas tree, his yellow eyes flashing and his gnarled fingers swinging back and forth. The Hessen Haus was immediately endeared to me, and the savory flavor of its food only reinforced my good opinion of the place. I would certainly recommend it to those wanting a hearty dinner in Des Moines.

Roseman Bridge is most known for its presence in the 1995 film, The Bridges of Madison County. After crossing through the dim, musty interior and stepping on its creaky wooden boards, I was not surprised to learn that it’s also the location of a supposed haunting. Even though the relentless wind prevented us from looking at the bridge for too long, it was an interesting sight to see–especially with the stories surrounding it. 

Not grateful: the chaotic indoor tunnel system of Des Moines

Wanting to escape the freezing chill, my family and I attempted to navigate the above-ground tunnels of the capital city. The confusing maze added an unnecessary hour to our voyage to dinner, entering abandoned hallways with exposed wires dangling from the ceilings and pulling on the locked knobs of mysterious doorways. I truly felt like I was in a liminal space, and the horror movie fan in me kind of appreciated the feel of it. Though the wasted time on an empty stomach did make the experience pretty frustrating. 

Grateful: a successful last-minute Thanksgiving reservation change

With the cancellation of our original plans and restaurant reservations, we needed to find out where else we could get some turkey and cranberry sauce. This sparked a panicked slew of phone calls to various restaurants, hoping to snag an open spot at a holiday buffet. After several rejections, we were beginning to surrender to the reality that we were not going to get a true Thanksgiving meal this year. Yet my dad insisted that we try to call this one restaurant again and just see if there was maybe availability since the last time we asked. And, somehow, there was.

We now have a reservation at the Ox Yoke Inn for Turkey Day, in the Amana Colonies. Ironically, the same place that ruined my Oktoberfest saved my Thanksgiving. The love-hate relationship I have with Amana continues to evolve. 

Hopefully, you’re reading this after eating a plentiful serving of stuffing or mashed potatoes, or whatever your favorite Thanksgiving dish is.

Until next time!