THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 2, 1997 TAG: 9701300037
SECTION: FLAVOR PAGE: F1 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: Miles to Go Before I Eat
SOURCE: BY STEPHEN HARRIMAN, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BLACKSTONE, VA. LENGTH: 147 lines
THIS IS THE WAY going out for Sunday dinner used to be in small towns across the country . . . in the South, anyway.
Except maybe a little nicer here at Armbrusters Restaurant, with a lot of the elegance but without a hint of the stuffiness that often is associated with elegance these days.
Armbrusters is a tastefully restored 1908 home, a big, square, two-story brick home with a half-dozen tall Corinthian columns out front and a stained-glass peacock fanlight over the large entry door.
Inside, a number of carefully set tables fill the various carpeted downstairs parlors and living areas, some of them with working fireplaces, all of them wallpapered and decorated with pictures from the late Victorian era.
Soft music by Mozart, piped in from somewhere. Nice.
Everyone seems to know everyone else. They've just come from church, most of them anyway, if appearances mean anything at all. They stop at various tables and chat because that is the polite thing to do. Young couples with little children, middle-aged families with their nearly grown brood, and, here next to us in the front parlor by the hissing gas-log fire, a whole table of grandmotherly types.
``Hiiiyh, how ARE yew!''
``How ya DOIN'!''
``Nice to see ya.''
``How's yo' momma an' them?''
``Hi, sugah. You're just PRECIOUS.''
There are even some hugs and kisses.
Grandmotherly type to little girl: ``You're just a pretty thing. How old are you, honey?''
The little girl holds up four fingers with a bit of effort.
``She favors her momma, don't you think?''
Yes, this IS a lot like going to grandma's home for Sunday dinner.
But don't think for a moment that this is a closed society, somewhere you'd feel a bit out of place. It's isn't that way at all.
My colleague, columnist and author George Tucker, walked over to the adjoining table of grandmotherly types and said he'd bet he was older than all of them. He is 87.
He was seven-eighths correct. I think. One lady said she was 92. Another simply said, ``I'm still here.''
Soon we were all engaged in a lively and far-ranging conversation.
That's the way Sunday dinner used to be in small-town America. And still is at Armbrusters in Blackstone.
If you're driving west on U.S. 460 toward Farmville or Lynchburg or Roanoke or Blacksburg, you learn that this route is a desert virtually devoid of interesting dining opportunities - sorry, I don't count the occasional fast-food outlet - from the Wakefield Diner all the way west to . . . well, perhaps all the way to Lynchburg.
Armbrusters, I was happy to discover, is a pleasant oasis.
In addition to the loyal locals, people regularly come here to dine from Richmond and Petersburg and from many of the small communities throughout Southside Virginia. The guest book does include one entry from Hong Kong, but, truth be told, he didn't come just to eat here.
And no one seems the least bit concerned by the pretty good evidence that there's a ghost about. Sometimes, at least. So they say.
In 1984 Bill and Betty Armbruster renovated the residence that had been owned by a Mrs. Robertson, who rented rooms here until shortly before her death in 1967. It's Mrs. Robertson, many believe, who makes occasional ``spiritual'' appearances in the house.
The Armbrusters opened it as a restaurant that people began bragging about almost right away. That hasn't changed, although ownership has, twice.
The Armbrusters sold out to Tom Robinson about 1990, and in August of last year Daniel Todd, who had worked here off and on for six years as chef, took over ownership with his wife, Sandra.
Daniel Todd told me of several ghostly happenings he had experienced - mostly things disappearing and then reappearing, nothing particularly harmful or even alarming, but spooky nonetheless. He says several of the waitresses refuse to go alone to the upstairs private dining rooms in the evenings.
The restaurant seats 73 downstairs - a few less than that when the buffet tables are set up in one of the back parlor rooms on Sundays - and there is room for another 40 upstairs in the banquet room that is used both for business meetings and dinner overflows.
They are now open only for evening dinner (5:30-9:30) Tuesday through Saturday. ``The traffic didn't justify opening for lunch,'' Todd said, ``although we still do private luncheons.'' Sunday's buffet is from 11:30 to 3.
Todd said the fare was a ``little more California'' before he took over. ``I'm a Virginia cook with a touch of Louisiana,'' he said. ``I believe in herbs and spices. About 95 percent of the things that come out of the kitchen are made by me or my wife, from breads to desserts.
``On Sundays we like to try out new vegetable or dessert recipes. We have a LOT of regulars. These ladies will call me at home and tell me whether they like something or not. We know pretty well and pretty quickly how we're doing.''
All of the meats and seafood are regional products, cut and trimmed and prepared by the Todds.
The Sunday buffet we sampled was not so much one that dazzled by volume but rather a thoughtfully prepared, home-cooked dinner, all laid out on a sideboard as if to say, ``Here's what we're having today; now come, help yourself . . . and enjoy.'' It was certainly abundant enough, and was especially tasty.
There was a small salad bar with the usual fixings, plus a selection of citrus fruit sections.
The peanut soup, that culinary staple of Virginia's Tidewater and Southside, could hold its own in any competition.
The principal entree was a spicy baked chicken - breasts, legs and thighs, tender and succulent. With that was a green bean, tomato and onion combination, macaroni and cheese, stuffed pasta shells covered with tomato sauce and cheese, and eggs Benedict with Smithfield ham.
Desserts included a pecan and chocolate chip pie, a coconut pie and an assortment of cakes.
One man's verdict: Well worth the 2 1/4-hour drive from Hampton Roads; especially good value for the price. MEMO: TO OUR READERS: This is another in an occasional series on
regional restaurants, plain and fancy, that serve up food in such a
special way that people will drive miles farther just to eat there.
Maybe you know of a place like this. Give us a call at 446-2949; we'd
like to check it out. ILLUSTRATION: STEPHEN HARRIMAN photo
Inside Armbrusters, carefully set tables fill the various carpeted
downstairs parlors and living areas.
Graphic
ARMBRUSTER'S RESAURANT
Getting there: From South Hampton Roads, take U.S. 460 west, then
U.S. 460 Business route about two miles east of Blackstone into the
town. It is about 2 hours and 15 minutes from downtown Norfolk. For
a return trip alternative, in downtown Blackstone take Virginia
route 40 east to Waverly, then rejoin U.S. 460; it's about the same
time and distance.
Location: 205 Church St., Blackstone, about a half block off Main
Street (U.S. 460 Business).
Open: Tuesday-Saturday 5:30-9:30 (menu service); Sunday 11:30-3
(buffet only). Closed Mondays. Private luncheons can be arranged.
Owners/chefs: Daniel and Sandra Todd.
Phone: (804) 292-5992. Reservations are suggested.
Dress: Casual, but not too casual, please. The after-church crowd
on Sundays is a little more formally attired.
Prices: Inexpensive to moderate. Sunday buffet is $9.95; menu
entrees range from Smithfield ham ($10.25) and chicken marsala
($10.75) to prime rib or surf and turf ($15.25 each).
Alcohol: Beer (domestic and imported) and wine (Barboursville
vintages are featured) are served, along with champagne.
Handicapped facilities: Yes, at rear entrance.