Scope and Content"FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD" by Helen Gage DeSoto One of the things I miss most in today's world is the kind of homey, unpretentious restaurants like the ones we enjoyed in the Saugatuck area during the 40s and 50s. I still look back with pleasure on the whole welcoming atmosphere of honest decor, pride of ownership and good cooking. One of the best remembered was the Edgewater Inn, located in a large frame structure connected to Charley's Boat Livery. Looming foursquare at the base of Mason Street, it didn't look like much until you got up the steps to the top floor, where the main feature, as I recall it, was a wide, screened-in porch. Diners sat at tables almost overhanging the river with an ever-changing view of busy boat traffic against the peaceful backdrop of the forested opposite shore. It was run by Louise Heistand, Charley's wife. The meals served there were justly famous in the area, and there was often a line of people waiting to get in. I have never been a devoted fish eater, but from their menu I always chose whatever Lake Michigan fish was being offered. The cooks always had the pick of the fishing fleet catch before it was rushed off to the Palmer House and other Chicago establishments, and they knew everything there was to know about cooking it. Your serving arrived golden brown, crusty and fragrant, breaking open to delicate, white flakiness. There were hot breads, potatoes and veggies, but the memory that can still make my mouth water is that of a beautiful succulent entree, the equal of which can't be found today. I don't know how many summers the Edgewater Inn was in operation, but I recall how distressed we were when, on our arrival one season, we learned it had closed. Fortunately, then we discovered Wave Crest, run by Ethel Marcotte, Louise Hiestand's sister, in an attractive converted dwelling, quite far south on the Douglas lakeshore. No unique specialties still tickle my taste buds, except for the hot breads and desserts , but 1 always looked forward to what I knew would be a delicious meal when we planned to go there. My mother, Jean Gage, felt the same. I remember one day at the Oval, in the 50s I think, when she and I, like most beach goers that afternoon, were sunning, but not daring to swim. The breeze was not overly strong and the waves were lackadaisical, but both were coming unmistakably from the north which translates to cold water in Lake Michigan. Nevertheless, when I decided to give it a try, Mother announced that if I could take it, she could and would. As soon as I put my foot in, I knew that it was too cold for her. It must have been about 65 degrees, if not lower, but I managed to swim to the ropes and back. Emerging, I decided to call her bluff, and ran across the sand yelling, "If you go into that water, I'll take you to Wave Crest for dinner!" Many sun-worshippers within earshot sat up to see if a white-haired senior citizen would really take the dare, and of course, she did, to much general applause. The Wave Crest incentive had sufficed to get her to take an unprecedented icy plunge. We enjoyed the anticipated wonderful dinner that evening. Another eating place we came to appreciate -- another "Crest," as a matter of fact -- was Pine Crest, just outside of town, on the road to Holland. Years before we had watched it being built, a motel on a bare hillside, and we scoffed at its being named Pine Crest when the vegetation consisted of some scrub wild grape, with not a single pine anywhere. The owners, however, had planned well, and by the time our family had discovered that there was a restaurant as part of the motel property, all buildings in the group were almost totally concealed by the thickly grown evergreens that surrounded them. the paneled dining room in the main building was especially cozy in bad weather. The honey-colored walls reflected warm amber lighting. The menu consisted of certain popular standbys which could always be prepared and served. My favorite was a ham steak, with baked potato, salad and (I think) dessert. It cost, in those less inflated days, a grand total of $1.25. No wonder we looked on Pine Crest as a nice place to go for a simple but tasty dinner in pleasant surroundings. An enterprise with an interesting and unusual background was Simmons of Saugatuck, a double storefront on Butler Street not far from the post office. Half of the building was devoted to a high-type gift and souvenir shop and half to a plain, clean non-fussy tea room atmosphere serving any kind of meal, any time of day. Mr. Simmons had withdrawn from his career in the business world and had pulled up stakes in Chicago, following an illness said to have been brought on by the stress of the big city rat race. he and his wife, Dorothy bought a comfortable house in Saugatuck, transferred their daughters from an expensive private school in the city to the local school, and opened their business in the center of town. It was a bold move, and one which might have resulted in even greater stress, but since it was successful and personally rewarding, it seemed to have no downside. We got to see their success firsthand. One blizzardy March in the 40s, a year or so after transplanting themselves, they invited our family to stay with them so that we could check out any damage the heavy snows might have caused to our hilltop cottage. Reluctant to impose, we at first declined this generous offer, but they assured us that the house was large enough, and that as all meals were prepared at the restaurant, our presence would cause no extra work. The good cooking for which Simmons of Saugatuck was already known became truly memorable after a day of tramping over familiar trails made strange and mysterious by leafless trees and uneven white drifts. The restaurant was warm and cheerful and the roast pork with trimmings not only picture perfect and fragrant, but unforgettably delicious. Instead of bread we were given hot buttered toast, which I have always remembered as a delightful complement to a great meal. Dinner there was more of an occasion than dinner in most other local restaurants. In the evening, as least many times when I was present, there was even a live combo playing the wonderful music of those days for dancing. No particular chef' specialties stand out in my mind at this distance in time, but what does remain clear is the sense of high level of enjoyment, both in the ambiance and at the beautifully set table. I can't leave the subject of the good food I used to appreciate in and around Saugatuck in that long ago time without mentioning the Lloyd J. Harriss Pies, which brightened many a day and tempted many to abandon diets. A useful little snack and sandwich shop stood conveniently just where the two lane asphalt left Douglas to become Park Street on the west bank of the Kalamazoo River. These people provided a much-needed pie baking service. After, having dropped off our factory-fresh, frozen pie in the morning, we picked up a gorgeous freshly baked blueberry, cherry, or apple pie on our way home from a day at the Oval. We could savor the fragrance all the way up to the cottage and anticipate the tasty dessert we would have at dinner that evening. Are there any eating places and gastronomical pleasures today which will be able to engender this kind of nostalgia 40 or 50 years from now? I hope so. -- Helen Gage DeSoto [the following text was on the webpage, but not the printed newsletter insert] generous offer, but they assured us that the house was large enough, and that as all meals were prepared at the restaurant, our presence would cause no extra work. The good cooking for which Simmons of Saugatuck was already known became truly memorable after a day of tramping over familiar trails made strange and mysterious by leafless trees and uneven white drifts. The restaurant was warm and cheerful and the roast pork with trimmings not only picture perfect and fragrant, but unforgettably delicious. Instead of bread we were given hot buttered toast, which I have always remembered as a delightful complement to a great meal. What has to be recorded as our favorite restaurant however, was the Old Rail Inn. Conveniently located on the corner of Water and Mary Streets, it drew its name from the Lincolnesque rustic fence which surrounded it. The entrance led first to a large, bright room, where customers were hospitably greeted by Dr. Cook, one of the owners. During the warm summer weather, the most popular dining area was the spacious screened-in porch, which personified the relaxing atmosphere of bygone days. No table matched another, but each represented some cheerful long-gone kitchen or historic family dining room.. "My grandmother had a table just like this one!" was a comment often heard from first-time clients, and everyone admired the three or four Tiffany style kerosene chandeliers which hung from the rafters to cast colorful illumination as the evenings drew in. As we frequented the Old Rail over several summers, in small or large groups, I only remember enjoying various excellent dinners, but I could not now select or praise one above another. The other half of the partnership, who ran the kitchen, always offered a choice of two or three entrees, written on a school slate. Even an appetizer, dessert and beverage were included with your dinner order. The Old Rail's unusual specialty, which we always eagerly looked forward to, was a bottomless basket of "Hush Puppies," a deep-fried cornbread treat, universally appreciated. I wish I could have some now. And then there was Tara. Located in Douglas on a rise overlooking Lake Kalamazoo and many Saugatuck landmarks, Tara provided a gracious dining room which embodied understated, unobtrusive elegance. Diners were well dressed, because going to Tara made you feel like