Back to the Kling House

Well, I'd read that the Kling House in Intercourse had reopened at last following a five-year closure that began during Covid. I was so happy because I still hadn't found another place that I liked for lunch in that town. And I was hankering for their open-face chicken salad sandwich on wheat berry bread with orange-cranberry garnish. Please see photo to the left. That's how I remember it, she drooled.

I met my relative there as planned, and was immediately struck by the physical make-over of the place. The old decor had been replaced by freshly painted white-ish walls and a more sophisticated look. It was inviting. We were seated promptly at a window table where Susan had an excellent view of the buggy ride stand across the street and since it was at my back she kept me informed about the latest clientele ("Handmaid style apparel but in black with some bling" and "Hassidic family, big Hassidic family"). 

The menu was scaled back considerably but I was delighted that the sandwich I craved was still available: "Chicken salad, open face, cranberry orange marmalade, tarragon, lettuce, whole wheat bread, served with old fashioned kettle chips" for $16. Previously it had been $10.99. I didn't take exception to the price increase; after all, it had been five-plus years.

I didn't take a picture of what I was served. The yummy wheat berry bread of the past was replaced by a slice of soft, gummy, brownish Wonder-looking bread. The chicken salad was under-seasoned and heavy on the mayo, the tarragon seemed to be imaginary, and the cranberry orange marmalade was as anticipated. And on the plate beside it was a bag of potato chips. Not what I expected. My "mocktail" seemed to be carbonated water with some peach flavoring added and honey around the rim of the glass a la margarita. For $6. 

They did still have the coconut pie. I didn't finish my piece. That might tell you something.

Our server was efficient and a little too chatty for our taste (she stopped by our table a couple of times to show us what she was taking to the table behind). Oh, well.

We headed over to The Old Country Store where the Hassidic family was all over the back room with bubbe directing the selection of fabrics for the individual pillow cases she was going to make for the kids and then deciding she'd also make skirts for the girls if they'd choose some more fabric. The father amused himself in the rotary cutter aisle. 

I picked out a couple of purples I was lacking and chose a gift for a friend from the main room and decided to call it a day and head for home.

I never did see the Handmaids in black with bling. My loss.