Iron Horse Tavern, Folsom, CA

Much of my childhood was spent in front of a television set. As one of the last Baby Boomers, I missed the Golden Age of Television classics like Howdy Doody and Mickey Mouse Club. But I did watch my share of Get Smart!, The Wild Wild West, Batman, and Hogan’s Heroes. When my favorite shows weren’t on, I would channel surf (although that wasn’t yet a term) looking for some distraction. And one such distraction was a Western series called Iron Horse, which had lots of trains and gunfights. What more could a boy like me want?

Iron Horse featured a gambler named Ben Calhoun who won an (incomplete) railroad in a poker game. The plots focused on Calhoun encountering endless obstacles in his effort to complete the railroad.

A lot of the show was way over my head, including (in Wikipedia’s words) “a running subplot [featuring] Calhoun’s frequent and (for TV at that time) flagrant sexual dalliances with his many attractive female guest stars, as well as his steadier on and off arrangement with Julie Parsons, played by Ellen Burstyn. Though he was never shown in bed with any of them, there was little doubt about what was happening between scenes; and marriage was never proposed as a possibility.” I guess that explains all the shots of trains speeding into tunnels…

But this talk of the show Iron Horse leads us, of course, to a place called the Iron Horse Tavern. It was brought to our attention by a person we shall call “Captain Hook” (but he is actually loyal reader Robert I.) I hadn’t realized it, but Captain Hook was pursuing his own interest in Bavarian pretzels, with a special focus on pretzels suspended by a hook. He alerted us to Sacramento’s Iron Horse Tavern as a place with an exceptional, hook-suspended pretzel.

Turns out there are actually two Iron Horse Taverns, with the newer one located in Folsom, CA. This clinched it for me, as it’s only about a 20 minute drive from stately Boilard Manor. So I programmed the coordinates and before two shakes of the pretzel salt I found myself at the Iron Horse Tavern. And the first thing I did was order their Bavarian pretzel.

Captain Hook was right. This is one of the most attractive pretzels you’re ever going to find. It’s beautifully misshapen–cracked and lumpy and carelessly pockmarked with salt crystals. It looks like it was crafted by a blind, hook-handed man. It’s a nice, glossy brown that looks to be imparted by a generous brushing with butter. If I were actually using a proper scoring rubric, with specific, defined categories, this would get full marks for appearance. I mean, just look at that handmade, artisinal baked beauty! And, as Captain Hook promised, it’s hung on a lovely copper hook.

Plus, it’s not just a pretty face; this pretzel really delivered on flavor. Nutty and slightly sweet with a tinge of butter, this pretzel tasted like the pretzels mom used to make. If mom had made pretzels. And if she had been any good at it.

With my first bite I discovered this pretzel had a perfect crust, with a nice, chewy center. However, as I worked my way to the thick top of the pretzel, it began to seem a little bready. Still, this wasn’t a deal-killer. In fact this pretzel was clearly one of the very best I’ve encountered all month.

But then disaster struck. It stuck in the form of the beer cheese, which wasn’t beer cheese at all, but rather Sriracha cream cheese. I mean, who replaces beer cheese with cream cheese?? If I’d wanted a bagel, I would have ordered a bagel. I can’t overstate how disappointing this was. Certainly no one has ever asked for their pretzel to come with Sriracha cream cheese. Surely this was some sort of joke. As a pretzel dipping sauce, Sriracha cream cheese has all the blandness of regular cream cheese, coupled with the entirely unwarranted burn of Sriracha. In the words of George H.W. Bush to Saddam Hussein, This Will Not Stand.

To be fair, I was also supplied with some housemade stoneground honey mustard. Now this is the stuff. It perfectly balances honey sweetness and an acidic mustard kick. And it has an easy consistency that’s a bit thinner than Grey Poupon, and thus it really soaks into the pretzel. I sopped up every last trace of that honey mustard.

My server informs me that the pretzels are made by by the restaurant’s owners (who call themselves MAC Hospitality Group), using their own recipe. MAC owns a total of seven restaurants, including the other Iron Horse Tavern in Sacramento. They make all their sauces made in-house, and they bake their own pretzels off-site.

I really wanted to give this pretzel 5 stars, but that ill-conceived idea of replacing the beer cheese with Sriracha cream cheese lost them a star. My server tells me that they periodically offer beer cheese as a special, seasonal item, and that I just missed the last offering by a week. But what good does that do me?

Four stars.

PRETZEL TRIVIA

My Catholic friends tell me that consecrated pretzels are never administered for Communion. But I have uncovered evidence that Jesus himself (!) may have served pretzels at the Last Supper.

This image is taken from a Gospel Lexionary created by the Abbey of St. Peter in Salzburg in the 11th century. In it we clearly see pretzels on the table (I’ve circled them in red) and it’s almost certain that Jesus is giving half a pretzel to Judas.

According to William M. Voelkle, Curator at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York (which owns this image), “During the middle ages pretzels were eaten during the penitential season of Lent. It is thus appropriate that Judas does his penance before he betrays Christ.”

I’m still looking for evidence that beer cheese was also involved.