This is the 10th post of a blog by Matt Porubsky called “satisfactual,” which will be updated weekly, discussing odds and ends about Topeka history and culture, with a little opinion thrown in for good measure.

I skipped breakfast. I knew I would have it later.

My children like to sleep in the car. This means that I drive around a lot. I wanted to say I drive around aimlessly but my aim is clear: to keep my children sleeping. On several of these aimful drives I would pass a short, unassuming strip of shops and cafes located at the point where Topeka Boulevard becomes Highway 75.  The sign says, “Pauline” and below that reads, “Unincorporated.” I have always had this strange draw to incorporate myself into something that declares itself to be unincorporated. So on this day I made the trip to Pauline solo to incorporate myself to the fullest extent. To me, that means food and drink. A “binge” can be defined as a short period of time when something is done in an unrestrained way. It was time to really dig in and to get to know Pauline.

Banjo’s Café: 5824 Topeka Boulevard

I came here first because of the way the name of the place was scrolled across the slanted front windows and shined in the afternoon light. I made a point to sit at a booth just on the other side of these painted-on letters. An upturned coffee cup was waiting for me on the table. The place was filled with old-timey knick-knacks, the clatter of plates and the recounting of orders from waitress to cook. The menu stated, “Just Like Home Cooking” and “Large Portions.” The bulletin boards through out the diner were full of community events and photos of the regulars with their families. It had the feel of a recurring dream that you are always happy to have.

I happily ordered the mother of all home cooking meals, chicken fried steak, and asked the waitress and daughter of the owners, Angie Sisson, to sit down with me to tell me some tales as I started my day of consumption.

“It’s more like home here,” Angie told me. “A lot of people like the home style cookin’ and the friendly, down to earth service. ” She actually said, “cookin’.” I would have commented on that but I had to wipe some gravy off my face. I can tell you now I should have been pacing myself a little better but that huge plate of chicken fried steak was disappearing. I couldn’t stop eating it even though I knew this was only the beginning. Do you know how good gravy is? And that it is good for you, too?

A regular who was sitting a few tables away made an inside joke with Angie and they laughed like old friends. She commented that he, Bob, was there every day and if the kitchen was going to run out of specials that day, they always saved one for him. The special of the day sat in front of Bob at his table. It was a tostado the size of a hubcap.

I then realized the many other places I had to go and asked for my first to-go box of the day. Time to walk a few calories off to my next stop.

John’s Food Center: 5812 SW Topeka Boulevard

I knew it was a place to get anything as soon as I walked in. To my left were two booths to sit and play keno alongside magazines of all sorts. In front of me were rows of groceries neatly arranged but assorted in a way I couldn’t really decipher. As I walked around I saw shoe polish and duct tape next to crayons. Suddenly, I was in the frozen food section that contained single servings of just about everything. Down the aisle I saw and old-school copy machine, every kind of candy bar you could imagine and a short row of toilet paper and Kleenexes.

I felt at ease in the wide assortment of merchandise, like I was in the old west standing in the general store that housed everything that I could possibly need, and then some.

“Almost everybody shops at Wal-Mart, but you don’t always remember to buy everything there, so that’s why I carry one of everything.” John Benson, the John of John’s, laughed as he finished that comment. He is a true businessman but when I asked him if he was an entrepreneur he shrugged and humbly said, “I don’t know.”

John tells me the old stories of the whole strip. The walls that have been taken down to expand the businesses, the businesses that have moved from one store front to another and how many times those businesses have changed hands. He is the genealogist of the Pauline business district. I think it is because he has waited on just about everyone who has ever been there.

“There is a ton of businesses out here. We get military along with other various trades, carpentry, plumbers and so on, they come here for the donuts we have every morning or coffee or cappuccino or smokes, whatever they need.”

As I walked out, I grabbed what I needed: an apple. I was glad to have something light and crisp to enjoy on my walk to the south end of the Pauline strip. Not many things go as well with an apple as does a vodka tonic.

The Thirsty Camel: 5910 SW Topeka Boulevard

It is a huge establishment, cathedral-like in its openness and its mass of seats. I was the only one there on that early afternoon. I sat at the laminated plywood bar and received my vodka tonic in a plastic cup and admired the vase at the end of the bar in the form of a pair of boots holding a bouquet of thistles. I like that kind of character. It makes me smile.

“We have a pretty good neighborhood crowd that comes in. They are hilarious.” Theresa, the bartender, looks up to the ceiling as she rolls the “l” again. “Hilarious. If I’m having a rough day, all I have to do is come to work.”

Theresa continued our conversation about the pool tables and leagues that call the Thirsty Camel home. As I was looking around, I saw ashtrays. I realized I wasn’t really in Topeka. So, I asked if people came there to smoke.

“You bet. You get the complete relaxation here,” Theresa explained. “The ashtrays have a lot to do with the comfort zone. Not everybody is a nonsmoker. We have several nondrinkers who come in to smoke. Just to relax somewhere other than their front room.”

The Thirsty Camel was my oasis. I had enough relaxation to prepare myself for the rest of my Pauline crawl and the food to follow next door.

Junior’s Bar N Grill: 5906 SW Topeka Boulevard

I realized my relaxation would continue when I entered Junior’s. It was a traditional dim lit bar with a few video games and televisions but what really set Junior’s apart from the other establishments was the strong military presence decorating the walls. This includes a piece of a plane with a 190th Coyote on it.

“If you would have come in here yesterday at lunchtime you would have thought you walked into the military chow hall,” Mel Lindebloom, the co-owner, happily told me. “We have such a vast menu so they can have burgers if they want to or they can have salad or bar-b-que and eat here or to go.”

Mel shared with me that she and her husband, Ryan, reconstructed the menu when they took over the establishment. Mel spoke with pride again, “He makes everything.” The list included the bar-b-que sauce, the salsa, the chili and the cocktail sauce, which I was very interested in since she recommend I have the Backyard Shrimp. Beneath this appetizer on the menu it states, “Not Like Mom makes.”

They certainly weren’t. Good seafood is beyond words. But if I must use words, these shrimps were the best shrimps I have ever had in town. They had a mysterious spiciness that had just enough gitty-up. The homemade cocktail sauce was a gentle addition, creating a synergy of sweet-heat. I asked for my second to-go box. It was time for some bar-b-que next door.

Pat’s Pig Bar-B-Que: 5900 SW Topeka Boulevard

I was full when I was right outside the door of Pat’s Pig but when I walked into the diner and encountered the atmospheric aroma lingering within, I knew I could happily keep going. I told Wendy all about my adventures so far and then asked what she thought I should have from their menu. She asked me to sit down and be surprised. I did and I was.

Wendy brought me a Pauline Pulled Pork sandwich with mild sauce, potato salad, sweet potato French fries and baked beans. All homemade. All of them. After the first bite of the sandwich I commented to Wendy behind the counter that it tasted like candy. She said, “It’s not supposed to taste like candy, it’s supposed to taste like bar-b-que.” It tasted like both. The fries and the potato salad were great but those baked beans stole my heart.

There was a patron at a booth next to me who was actually named Pat. “I eat half and take the other half for later,” he told me. Wendy made the comment he came almost every day and he simply replied between bites, “It sure has gotten to be that way.”

To-go box number three. Now, I thought, it was late enough for breakfast.

Patty’s Heartland Café: 5701 SW Topeka Boulevard

My last stop of the day greeted me with the largest menu yet: both size and assortment. My mission was breakfast and my choices seemed limitless but economically pleasing. It must have been somewhere between the painted saw on the wall and the painting of John Wayne where I realized that I needed biscuits and gravy. I took that to the next level and had the Biscuit Topper, which were two biscuits under two fried eggs covered in sausage gravy with hash browns on the side. Whew.

Patty, the owner/operator, visited my table to refill my coffee and shared a story. “One day I was sitting at the back table and this lady said, ‘You know what I don’t like about this place?’ So I ducked down ready for something negative to be said. Then she said, ‘I hate wondering if I am going to be able to find a seat or not.’ Of course then I sat back up straight again.”

I sure sat up straight when she placed the plate full of Biscuit Topper in front of me. I forgot to mention the bacon that comes on the side, too. It had that home feeling, though. It seemed that home could be the only place where a person would concoct the combination of fried eggs between biscuits and gravy. No to-go box for this. I’m all in. Breakfast, finally.

To finish my binge, I had a piece of one of Patty’s homemade pies: fruits of the forest. The subtle tartness of the pie with its cinnamon crust alongside my coffee was the perfect ending to my Pauline visit. I have to admit, I did take some of the pie in a to-go box.

I give you one hundred percent certainty that I have never eaten so much in three hours and I can guarantee that I will never do it again. But every time I was full, the atmosphere and the staff of all of these Pauline places welcomed me to have more. I am happy with my gluttony of that day. I didn’t have breakfast or lunch the next day. Supper, though, was a grand spread of Pauline to-go boxes.

Matt Porubsky is not a licensed therapist, statistician, historian or medical professional. But he is the 2009 Distinguished Kansan of the Year in arts and entertainment. Take that! Most of the time he just makes stuff up. But all of these stories are based on actual events.

[June 2010 | Matt Porubsky | photos by EJ Drake]