After at evening spent in a tent in Kentucky, I eagerly accepted an offer for some hospitality in Kansas City, MO. To be frank, I wasn’t expecting much from this town, namely because my previous experiences with anything Kansas-related could best be described as mundane, prolonged, and torturous. Instead, I was met with a metropolis haven with a New England suburban flare.
I arrived in town just before my gracious host left work for the day, so I idled my time by exploring the area by car and by foot. I leisured along a large lakefront area that sat along the road I was traveling on, and enjoyed the brisk air until a fleet of whistling old men summoned my retreat back to my car. Afterwards, I took a short drive down to an area called the plazas, which was an enormous waterway that sat beneath two main streets with a walking path and gondolas perched along the water’s edge – not to mention the wonderful bloated rat carcass I found floating merrily along the current. I later discovered that Kansas City has the fifth most abundant amount of fountains in the world – who knew?
After wandering through the area and harassing a flock of geese whom I was determined to make friends with, I finally met up with my lovely Kansas City host, Sheila. An old family friend my father met during his MBA program with Vanderbilt, Sheila is like an aunt – and her beautiful daughter is like my little cousin. They graciously offered to feed my vagabond belly with anything I wanted, so I suggested that we get something local.
My quest for local Kansas City eats brought us to two excellent grub stops. The first was Governor Stumpy’s, a delicious pub-style restaurant that served up heaps of American food that stuffed me silly before I could even clear half my plate. In some insane attempt to stretch my stomach a few sizes, Sheila treated me to a frozen dessert from Glacé Artisian Ice Cream. This tiny gelato joint offered tasty and unusual flavors like wildflower goat cheese and Venezuelan dark chocolate – you can guess which option I went with. The selection of handmade varieties reminded me of Sweet Action Ice Cream in Denver.
I only spent a quick evening in Kansas City, hurrying off the next morning towards Colorado, but I was charmed and curious about this city. I never thought I’d carry these sentiments, but I’d like to return to the area one day with proper time to explore everything there is to discover about this truly American town. I owe a gracious ‘thank you’ to Sheila for welcoming me into her beautiful home, and for changing the blankets so my nose didn’t itch from the cat – and of course an enormous amount of gratitude for the carrot banana walnut mini muffins she baked for me. Those muffins saved my belly while I was starving in the middle of Kansas prairie land.