It was a grand old river city, right on the Mississippi River. Just below Hannibal, Missouri, the city of Louisiana had been a busy place since its founding in 1817.
|The Stark family log cabin|
Many memories sprout up when I recall Louisiana. The one about which I write today is:
I is for…Izola’s Place
In October 2009, the autumn leaves were beginning to be glorious. My mom would say, “Oh, in another few days, well, then…” My Aunt Vada picked Mom and me up for a drive around Louisiana.
When they were children, their mother’s family lived there. Back and forth across a bridge built in 1928, Mom and her sisters spent a good part of their growing years there.
At dusk, we decided to pick up something for supper and cross back over the river to Illinois. “Say, now, there’s a place I’ve always wanted to try,” I ventured. “Izola’s Place, off Hwy. 79, on the way out of town to St. Louis.”
|Izola's Place--go south on Hwy 79|
I ran in and ordered three smoked pork steak sandwiches, which came with sliced white bread and onion. It was almost dark when we got back to Mom’s house.
|Izola's fried chicken|
Aunt Vada opened one Styrofoam container and asked, “Susie, how many of these did we order?” We put the steak on the largest plate Mom had, and it lay over the edges. “Three,” I answered.
Go to Izola’s Place to see for yourself. Those steaks were amazing.