Omaha- For 15 years I have been coming to Nebraska for college football, and for 15 years I have endured the mind-numbing 60-mile drive from Omaha to Lincoln. After all, nothing says high cuisine like the Cornhusker Hotel.
Besides the fact that staying in Lincoln on non-game days is the equivalent of reading a ZIP-code directory, I have absolutely no one to eat with. Nearly everyone, even visiting writers, stays in Omaha.
“It’s the best-kept secret in America,” says my colleague with the Omaha World-Herald.
Omaha?
No way. The best-kept secret in America is Izze fruit drinks. It’s not Omaha. But to test the theory, I stayed in Omaha while doing preseason stories on Nebraska football last month. I had to drive to Lincoln twice – meaning I spent four hours over a 24-hour period staring at grass – but I’d at least eat better. Allegedly.
The only way I ever associated Omaha with dining was in the ’60s watching anacondas trying to swallow Jim Fowler on Mutual of Omaha’s “Wild Kingdom.” Eating in Omaha today isn’t nearly that adventurous but it has more variety than you’d ever imagine.
Best-kept secret? No. A nice little surprise, kind of like finding a homey diner on a lonely highway? Sure.
I hung out in an area called the Old Market Historic District. It’s about a 12-block area near the airport, right off the Missouri River. Picture an aggie LoDo. Old Market is a collection of eclectic shops, bars and locally run restaurants covering the entire spectrum. It’s all laced together by red brick roads, meeting at intersections decorated on all four corners with giant flowerbeds.
It’s quite a pleasant spot to spend a warm summer morning or a pleasant evening in August, about the only month one can eat outside in Nebraska. Old Market is not nearly as expansive as LoDo but not nearly as schlocky as California’s Old Sacramento.
I had dinner at an upscale place called V. Mertz. It’s in the basement of the Old Market Passageway, and when I walked through the two black double doors I could tell this was a different Nebraska than the one I knew and loathed.
At least, never before in Nebraska have I seen a Russian souvenir store. But there was Red Square, selling Babushka dolls, red CCCP T-shirts and glassware. Then again, it made sense. Six months out of the year, Cossack hats in Nebraska come in pretty handy.
I hadn’t seen many places in Nebraska like V. Mertz, either. It was nearly as romantic as some restaurants in Paris. It’s set in a brick enclave, giving it a cozy cave-like presence. Candles and white tablecloths adorned each table. The waiters dressed as if they worked in an English castle.
I chose the local specialty, a Nebraska-grown peppersteak with brandy cream sauce. V. Mertz isn’t cheap. The main dishes range from $23 to $40 but you just can’t get grilled Colorado spring lamb chops with Guinness cream sauce or cinnamon-rubbed mallard duck breasts with Grand Marnier-macerated strawberries anywhere else in Nebraska.
With a nice 2001 Bordeaux Haut-Surget, it was a dining experience that sure topped the road kill passing itself off as seafood I once ordered in Lincoln.
Wandering through the neighborhood I noticed a terrific variety of ethnic food. Right on Howard Street, next to V. Mertz, I found Ahmad’s, Indian Oven and the French Café. Around the corner is Das Rheinland. I also made a note to some day visit Omaha Prime, a rustic high-end steak house that looked modeled after an old Western saloon.
I also noticed stores such as Namaste, which sold East Indian clothes, and bereted artists working street corners. They’re all remnants from the ’60s when even Omaha had its left-wing faction. And it hung out in Old Market.
“There were a lot of people upset with kids back then,” said Tony Abbott, owner of the classy French Café. “A shop had a shirt made from parts of an American flag. They were arrested. That was Vietnam. There was a lot of turmoil. It has evolved gently.”
Abbott, 62, is an Omaha native who has owned The French Café since 1970. He said when the ConAgra plant was built in the ’80s, the city decided to renovate the Old Market District. ConAgra became Omaha’s
Coors Field. The winos and hippies moved out; restaurants and shops moved in.
I asked Abbott what the city’s plan was.
“I don’t know if there was one,” he said. “The idea was to get an area that had gone missing in the city. It was an avant- garde idea.”
As in LoDo, abandoned warehouses in the area are turning into lofts (you can get a three-
bed, two-bath for $580,000), and city officials have embraced it as Omaha’s greatest tourist attraction.
“Absolutely,” Abbott said. “We’ve gone from a city despising us to a city working very closely with us.”
So is it worth a visit? Probably. But is it worth making an extra drive to Lincoln? No secret is that good.
John Henderson can be reached at 303-820-1299 or jhenderson@denverpost.com.
