The Official '100 Miles Before Breakfast' Homepage

pooh

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“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last,
“what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”
“What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”
“I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.

.............For generations our family has always espoused a deep, rich tradition of traveling "100 Miles Before Breakfast" on all major road trips. This magnificent ploy obviously relieves the Driver of having to produce a torrent of excuses as to why each sleazy diner on the way is unsuitable. The kids are all unwitting participants in the noble pursuit of "putting some miles under our belts" before "putting some food under our belts."

1930s: The Tradition Begins......

GRS

DR. G.R. SHAW: BELIEVED TO HAVE BEEN THE ORIGINATOR AND CHIEF MASTERMIND OF THE "100 MILES BEFORE BREAKFAST" TRADITION.

Virginia Shaw Morbeck tells us about the early days of this great family predilection:
............."When we were children growing up in Verona, New Jersey our parents would take us occasionly to visit our grandparents in Frederick, Maryland. We'd leave very early in the morning, drive west past Budd Lake, and eventually stop for Breakfast at the Abraham Lincoln Hotel in Reading, Pennsylvania. Each of the individual pats of butter served to us with our toast came in its own tiny little dish which reminded me of dollhouse dishes. Ruthie couldn't pronounce 'Abraham' so she called it the "Hambaham" (Lincoln) Hotel. We would have breakfast and then drive south to Maryland, often timing it to have lunch at Caddie's and Daydee's."

1950s: We begin our long association with the large Amish Man:

zinns3

"HELLO DERE!"

...........Seldom in the course of human history has any towering landmark had such a magnetic hold on its various supplicants. Traveling to Points West ( a common destination for those of us of Cheesehead Extraction) could only mean one thing: ZINN'S DINER! Located along the Pennsyltoonya Turnpike in the heart of " Pennsylvania Dutch Country", Zinn's boasted three powerful enticements:
..................1) A large statue of an Amish man affectionately known as "Amos" who croaked peasant witticisms to a mesmerized throng of onlookers through a tiny 4" speaker in his foot
.................2) An unbelievably fabulous Ye Olde Gift Shoppe located down in the basement designed to snare both young and old with all sorts of hex symbols, gigantic cigars, fish bookmarks, small iron figures, etc.
................3) And last, but not least...............SCRAPPLE!
Call it Scrapple, Call it pawn-haus (As GRS did), it's a Pennsyltoonya delicacy deliciously sizzled on a hot grill and then smothered with maple syrup or apple butter. The old adage that pork processors utilize every part of the pig "except the squeal" is especially true in this case. If you were playing "The Daddy Quiz" (see the BearSpeak Dictionary), shouting "Pork Snouts!" would put you at the top of the list, ingredient-wise.

The 60s: A Fiery Maelstrom of Burning Toast

dutchpnt

DUTCH PANTRY RESTAURANT, 1999. APPARENTLY TIME AND CHANGING DEMOGRAPHICS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED WHAT A POTENTIALLY DEVASTATING TOAST FIRE COULDN'T.

...........Occasionally, even my father couldn't manage to manipulate our itinerary in such a way as to take us past Zinn's. Whenever we were heading towards Points South we would buzz down the old New Jersey Turnpike to its southern terminus, crossing the mighty Delaware River on the twin bridges just south of Wilmington, DE. Immediately past the airport on US Rt 13 stood the "Dutch Pantry", a moderately-priced family restaurant which fit our two important criteria:
............a) It was over 100 miles away , and
............b) It had SCRAPPLE!
............No doubt our most exciting trip to this greasy spoon occurred on one fine summer morning, sometime in the 1960s. I don't remember the exact circumstances, but for some reason the crucial task of manufacturing buttered toast had been removed from the hands of trained kitchen professionals and transferred out to the dining room (a bad idea). I'm not sure if there was a toaster on every table (a really bad idea), or one or two satellite toasting locations. Regardless, the important task of supplying toast to hungry breakfasters was being conducted in a dangerous and slipshod fashion.
............And sure enough, as we were calmly sitting there, drinking our tiny glasses of Orange Juice, disaster struck. Whooooshh! The checkered curtains near one of the unattended toasters burst into flames (or at least smoldering smoke). My mother (the heroine of this story) quickly alerted the waitress, who threw water on the potential inferno.
............And what thanks did she get for saving their restaurant from being a pile of twisted wreckage? Practically none. No free sides of scrapple, no free fried eggs over easy, no free buttered toast. We're all still very bitter, many years later.

The 1990s and Beyond: The Next Generation

jackshaw

JACK "NO ONE CALLS ME JACK ANYMORE" SHAW. THIS IS THE MOST RECENT PICTURE AVAILABLE IN MY VAST PHOTO ARCHIVES (CIRCA 1962?)

...........Jack Shaw, a direct male heir to the "100 Miles Before Breakfast" Throne. sent us this update as to what the future holds for our family's glorious obsession:
A revision to a family tradition:
............."Two years ago we drove to Kath’s home town in Upper Michigan. We started out the first day at 6a.m. and went the required '100 Miles Before Breakfast'. Somehow it seemed sort of early and soon for breakfast. As we drove on after breakfast we got to thinking that the tradition was established on two lane highways that went through every town while traveling in the cars of our childhood. Nowadays, especially out west, we travel in a car that is air conditioned, has a favorite tape playing on the stereo and the cruise control set to something in excess of 70 mph. Frankly, by the old standards, we just gobble up the miles in luxurious comfort.
.............. So we updated our version of the tradition and now do '200 Miles Before Breakfast' - it worked out well for us and gets about one-third of the day’s miles done before the first stop, which is very satisfying. One morning, after leaving Fargo, ND heading west on 1-94 with almost no traffic (it was 55 minutes before we passed the first vehicle in our lanes) and with very few restaurants to choose from, we ended up doing '300 Miles Before Breakfast' - not something we would normally do but it was fairly painless."

(Editor's note: I GET HUNGRY JUST READING THIS. That's Crazy Talk.)
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"ASK AMOS"

amos

A Nationwide Forum for "100 Miles B4 Breakfast" Issues in the Next Millenium.

Dear Amos:
............I am a father of three small children who lives in Eastern Pennsyltoonya Because we have a plethora of relatives out in the Greater Pittsburgh area, it often behooves us to follow the signs for "Turnpike West". Here's my problem: Zinn's Diner is located only about 60 miles away. Which important family tradition do I follow, stopping at Zinn's or going 100 miles before breakfast? If we go the 100 miles we end up beyond the SDL (Scrapple Demarcation Line) at the All-American Truck Stop in Carlisle, PA ( a poor second choice). Amos, what should I do?
...........................................................................-Anonymous

Amos replies.........
(With profound apologies to all peoples everywhere of Teutonic extraction)
.........."Hello Dere! (He always says, "Hello Dere") Ach, you are faced mit a problem. Why don't you "taken de scenic route" and drive up and down de turnpikes's Northeast Extension a few exits. This way you can go 100 miles and still stop at Zinn's. If you stoppen ze back on de return trip don't forget to have sum "Shoo-fly Pie" (The House Specialty).