For most people, the name Amana means one thing . . . appliances. Remember the first successful microwave oven? It was the Amana Radar Range, and when it first came out it seemed like something straight out of the Jetsons. (Barbara Hale, of Perry Mason fame, was featured in their commercials, which always ended with “It it doesn’t say Amana, it’s not a Radar Range!”) Amana is still in the appliance business, but oddly enough the name Amana also refers to a wonderful little series of hamlets tucked away in rural East-Central Iowa, just north of Iowa City. The Amana Colonies were actually 7 small communities settled by a group which had splintered off from the Lutheran church in Germany and came to America in search of religious freedom. They first settled somewhere in New York state (in the town of Ebeneezer) but most of the group pressed on and settled for good in the bountiful land of Iowa. And for decades, they existed as a self-sustaining old world commune of sorts which had almost no contact at all with the outside world, and where basically no one owned private property of any kind. They were not Amish, but their adherence to tradition and the centrality of their religious faith suggests some parallels and similarities. (Two things stand out from what I’ve read about the Amana Colonies. First, at worship the men sat on one side of the room and the women and children on the other. Given the widely divergent number of men vs. women attending church these days, that would not work too well today in the typical Lutheran church. Second, meal time traditionally was limited to 15 minutes, and it was expressly for eating only- so conversation was very much discouraged.)
At some point in the early twentieth century, it became clear to most of the group’s leaders that they would not be able to sustain themselves and remain as insulated as they were. So they relaxed certain restrictions, including the ban on owning individual property. Perhaps even more importantly, they began reaching out to the outside world- especially in the sale of various handcrafted goods as well as their amazing food. And nowadays, although the religious communities around which these colonies sprang up are essentially gone, many of the original structures still exist and are home to all kinds of wonderful shops and restaurants. And we’re not talking “Victoria’s Secrets” and “Foot Locker,” either. These are charming shops- many of which feature items made either right in the Amana Colonies or close by and which otherwise carry things that you are not likely to find in your local mall. There are furniture shops, wool shops, lace shops, quilt shops. . . wineries and breweries. . . art galleries. . . bakeries. . . and a General Store that has to be seen to be believed. Everything is air conditioned- places take Visa- so it’s not exactly a trip back in time. But at least for me, there is this wonderful sense that you are someplace utterly new and different. And for some of us not inclined to climb the mountains of Tibet or apply for a Peace Corp assignment in Kenya, this is just the right kind of excitement.
Speaking of excitement, we found ourselves unexpectedly entertained in one of the wineries of the Amana Colonies, where we sampled five or six delicious wines and ended up purchasing three of them. Neither Kathy nor I are wine experts in any way shape or form -nor do we even drink it all that often and never in large quantities- but I think for the first time in our lives we had a sense of how and why some people immerse themselves in wine. (Not literally- that would get pretty sticky. But figuratively, it’s the kind of hobby to which you could give over all kinds of time and money.) It really is fun to compare bouquets ( I think that’s the lingo ) and choose exactly what you prefer, versus settling for the excitement of “could I have a lime with my diet coke?” Anyway, we bought some wine at this winery- much of which we’ll give away as gifts- and then proceeded to buy some more at the next wine place down the road. The second place specializes in berry wines, meaning that they are quite sweet- the sort of wine you could probably make popsicles with if one were so inclined- and we bought three mini-bottles of that. . . and when we realized we had purchased more wine in the past thirty minutes than we had in the rest of our married life together, we decided that there were better ways to contend with the high 80’s temperatures than to buy out every winery on the town square! And by the way, just to make sure no one is unduly worried about us, the best thing we drank in the Amana Colonies- without a doubt- was the Root Beer and the Cream Soda made by the local brewery. When it’s all said and done, that’s where our heart will always be most firmly rooted . . . in the sunny world of soda pop.
All that was fun, but there’s no question but that for me the highlight of the whole visit was the spectacular meal we had at the Ronneburg Restaurant, which is one of several “original” Amana restaurants. By that they mean that they have been serving meals to the public since the early 1940’s, which was shortly after the colonies had decided to engage with the world. The Ronneburg and its counterparts all specialize in German food (which Kathy and I love) but I don’t think either of us was prepared for what a charming experience it would be. It’s decorated with a lovely simplicity- with the waitresses traditionally garbed. But what sold me, hook line and sinker, was that the meal came with limitless side items. . . refilled as much as we wanted. There was delicious cole slaw, very tasty pickled beets, and even the cottage cheese was mouth-wateringly delicious! (You know you’re in an exceptionally wonderful restaurant when the cottage cheese makes you want to convert. We made sure to get the recipe, believe it or not.) With our splendid entrees (Sauerbraten for me, pork chops with apple slices for Kathy) came potato dumplings, green beans, sauerkraut, and fried potatoes. And in a moment of complete insanity, after we had more than eaten our fill, we ordered a slice of Chocolate Cream Pie for dessert. . . and we nearly had to call for the jaws of life to be extracted from our seats. We were happily stuffed and I can’t ever remember $40 for food being better spent than this was.
The only problem with all this was that for me a wonderful meal is its own kind of Religious Experience. . . I mean right up there with the Road to Damascus and Moses’ Burning Bush. I love a wonderful meal, especially when it’s in such a beautiful setting where it feels like everything is just right- and I’m sharing it with someone I love. And it was impossible for me to entirely suppress groans of pleasure that sounded like that famous Meg Ryan scene in the diner from “When Harry Met Sally.” (Fortunately, Kathy has gotten pretty good at giving me a look when I’m emoting a little too loudly.) Anyway, what they say about eating in the Amana Colonies is absolutely true. . . and that meal alone made the long drive and the sunburn more than worth it.
pictured above: Our table in mid-meal at the Ronneburg Restaurant. By the way, we probably would not have ordered the chocolate cream pie we had for dessert, except that the couple in the background ordered it before us- and trust me, it was impossible to see it and not order it. Gandhi himself could not have resisted such a sight. One final thought: we later spent some time in the town of Bellevue, IA, and I saw this saying in the window of one of the storefronts: One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. I don’t know if this saying is true- but I certainly live by it.