Tioga Toomey’s Whoa Nellie Deli
Can you order rack of lamb at a gas station?
Howdy. I’m in Mammoth Lakes. Skiing.
I know, I know, you just had a heat wave on the east coast but here in California they had record-breaking snowfall and right now there’s an 8-16 foot base and the skiing today was GLORIOUS! The mountain is open until July 4th, if Dave McCoy still owned it it would probably operate until August, like in ’95, so if you’ve got a hankering, you can take a direct flight from LAX but we drove.
Through Mojave. Past the airplane graveyard. All the way up to 9000′ and I’ve got the headache to prove it.
And after sliding this morning, into the early afternoon, they salted the slopes, keeping them firm, we went out on an adventure. First to the June Lake Loop. With astounding views of the backside of Yosemite. And then up to Bridgeport, where we delved deep into the backcountry, far beyond cell service, to visit the campgrounds where Leo spent his formative years. California’s an amazing state. Way back in Twin Lakes there were RVs and fishermen, you couldn’t be farther from L.A. At least in mentality, it’s a bit over 300 miles via macadam.
ANYWAY, after burning so many calories on the slopes, we were starving, and we ended up eating at the Mobil station. At the intersection of 395 and 120, in Lee Vining, by the back entrance to Yosemite. That road isn’t open yet, you can read about the clearing of it in last week’s "Los Angeles Times":
But just a football field up from the intersection is the Mobil station.
And Tioga Toomey’s Whoa Nellie Deli.
I heard about it from Tom Cartwright. I love the Internet. I wrote about driving the white knuckle back road into Yosemite and Mr. Cartwright, formerly of EMI, e-mailed and said DID YOU EAT AT THE MOBIL STATION?
HUH?
I subsequently stopped in.
But didn’t eat there until this evening.
It’s a typical mini-mart. But in the back there’s a counter and some tables and some booths and the menu is just a bit exotic for these parts. You can get ahi. Then again, you can buy sushi in the Vons in Mammoth Lakes. But not GOOD sushi.
Could this food at the Whoa Nellie Deli truly live up to its billing?
It was SCRUMPTIOUS!
The specials were filet mignon and rack of lamb. $21.95 apiece. But that’s it. Because there’s no service, no tip, just tax. Still, I’m gonna spend $21.95 for dinner at a GAS STATION?
But the cashier recommended it. Not that anyone gave her the memo about being sweet to the customers. When you live this far off the beaten path you’ve got CONTEMPT for the customers.
I thought about having the ribs.
But when rack of lamb is right, it always satiates.
There was only one left. I took it.
And then the cashier jumped up on the counter, whipped out an eraser and eradicated the offering from the white board. She did this with such relish I wondered if she had OCD, or was a completist, like me…needing to own every album by the act.
Leo ordered the buffalo meat loaf.
His meal came first.
Being well-bred, Leo waited for me. My protestations eventually got him to partake, but this was after he engaged the CHP officers behind us.
They were eating ribs that Fred Flintstone would admire and a salad respectively.
And this CHP officer, that’s California Highway Patrol for the uninitiated, the Eureka division to be specific, said the Whoa Nellie Deli was the best food in the county.
And it was.
Leo got that AHHH look upon his face after taking a bite.
And when my rack of lamb came I was stunned. There was plenty. Four double-boned pieces, actually one was triple-boned, and a plethora of spaghetti squash.
No one can do vegetables right anymore. They just serve them up as part of the recently-eclipsed food pyramid. But this stringy concoction was so delicious, so well-seasoned, I felt like asking for the recipe…AND I DON’T COOK!
But the rack of lamb…Â Mmm…Â Succulent.
This was the best restaurant meal I’ve had in eons.
You can go to the Soho House and make the scene, but the food at that joint is far eclipsed by the Whoa Nellie Deli. Hollywood’s got nothing on Lee Vining.
