Down Home Cookin' Joan. Shoebox sized restaurant on Main Street has no counter, seating, bathroom or even drinks, but the tiny menu of comfort food dinners is excellent. For $7 per, Chuck and I had a meal of turkey with gravy and cranberry sauce over a piece of bread, mashed potato and carrot. We ate it sitting on a bench in front of a store down the street.
After three years in business, they had to shut down for three when a texting driver drove into their restaurant and destroyed it. Just reopened, all of their old customers are coming back, they said. He's a housepainter--notice the paint splatters on his shorts and shoes--and she also has another job, but I forgot to ask what it was.
They told me about their local bar in Old Forge, said a Bud is only $1.50 and that they were going there the next night. Chuck and I did go, but with Daniel, Chuck's son. When Dan saw a bunch of old farts sitting elbow to elbow in the darkened joint, he freaked out, however, so we went somewhere else.