By Jim Duncan CVFDude@aol.com

If truck plazas did not exist, we'd invent them. Besides being essential cogs of national commerce, they also function as living history theme parks, resembling hub airports more than roadside cafès. Some even have their own zip codes. At Flying J Truck Plaza in Clive you can get a lot more than coffee and eggs: showers, wi-fi hot spots, weigh stations, a business center, 24-hour banking and insurance. It is a franchised theme restaurant with one major difference from others - real life is its theme.

Flying J's main customer is a modern-day trail boss who owns his own rig and works where he pleases. Thanks to the invention of the sunroof, he can sleep under the stars, too. On our recent visits, Flying J's big rig parking lot held some 50 disciples of the holy trinity of horsepower - Mack, Peterbilt and Kenworth. From the looks of the vehicles in the two-axel parking lot, wannabe truckers hang out here, as well. With the exception of the Val-Air Ballroom parking lot during a Los Tigres del Norte concert, I have never seen so many oversized tires north of Texas.

Flying J's convenience food service catered to manliness in extended sizes. Their big sausage was a bulimic's fantasy - over 12 inches long and an inch-and-a-half thick, and baked inside a biscuit roll, for less than $3. "To go" treats included Flying J's own line-up of heavy desserts, plus Krispy Kreme donuts and Johnsonville brats. I got buzzed just reading the names of the energy drinks - Everlast, Go Juice, Red Bull, Rush, Double Strength, Full Throttle, Monster Chaos. There were long lines of people waiting for showers (free with 50 gallons of diesel fuel). And people waited three deep to play the Touch Play machines, as if it was the last chance they would ever have to throw 38 percent of their money away by barely lifting a finger.

Cookery, Flying J's state of the art trucker cafè, welcomes guests with an apprehensive honor code. Signs encouraged people to inform on anyone sharing buffet food. And a $50 reward was offered to informants who turned in vandals doing "hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage." The buffet reinforced my long-standing conviction: either be first in line, or pass, especially if you eat fried foods. Deep fried fish and chicken were golden at the beginning of lunch service, but dark and foreboding in the evening, probably after the same oil had been reused too long. Still, three daily buffets were really popular bargains ($7 -$11) accommodating people with hours to kill.

Other good deals included a 10-piece shrimp cocktail for $5, and reliable "Angus" burgers. Surprisingly, breakfast was disappointing. Eggs had rubbery whites, and Flying J's scones had been discontinued. When this place first opened in Iowa, Utah scones - decadent Indian fried bread that resembled nothing the Brits ever called by the same name - were its signature. Now with nearly 200 locations nationwide, Flying J has shed that regional icon for a choice of undistinguished biscuits or toast.

If Cookery has a signature item now, it's the flatiron steak. Advertised as "USDA Choice Angus," Flying J sells complete dinners of this underrated cut of beef for $11. No truck stop ever stayed in business without good gravy, and that held true here. But mashed potatoes were pasty, and "butter" tasted artificial. Desserts were also uneven. A berry pie with five fruits, off a special "Santa Maria Valley menu," was excellent. But bread pudding tasted doughy.

Still these are insignificant quibbles because, whether you are a trucker, a sociologist or a poseur, you came here for something other than fine dining.

Food News

The Bosnian cafè Central Grill, 2734 Douglas, closed on April 1... Bella Italia, a carryout pizza joint on Hubbell Avenue, moved to larger quarters in Pleasant Hill that now accommodates sit down dining.CV

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