A selection of 40 themed rooms at the Hotel Pattee celebrates historical contributions to Midwestern life. Standard stayers can pass notes in the Alton School room or sleep under the stars and stripes of the marching-band room. A space celebrating Japanese culture is available to premiere guests, and the aura of Louis Armstrong resides in a New Orleans-inspired suite room. Personalized touches include a wood-burning fireplaces in select rooms and more than 130 pieces of original artwork. Active bodies can find a niche in the fitness center, which features cardio equipment and a hot tub, a sauna, and a steam room.
At the beginning of the 20th century, horses whinnied and snorted in the basement of The Livery building, according to the Des Moines Register. Today, though, the cleaned-up space is home to a cozy cafe run by Betsy and James Gideon. Betsy and James strive for thoughtful quality in the form of single-pour brews of coffee and the pastries they bake in-house. The café's ovens are not only for pastries, though; the Gideons also bake fresh bread for sandwiches rather than using prepackaged bread or reconstituted croutons. Guests can recline on wooden furniture that James Gideon constructs himself, or head to the outdoor patio in warm weather.
For four generations, the Larson family has farmed the verdant parcel of land where Snus Hill Winery now sits, carrying on and improving upon the traditions of their Swedish immigrant ancestors who settled there back in 1878. From their American and French?style grapes, they've crafted a wide variety of award-winning wines, some of which are lovingly named for their beloved cats??and all of which wear the face of a feline on the label. Red, white, ros?, and even dessert and specialty wines create a well-rounded portfolio of varietals, from the bone-dry cabernet sauvignon the Whisker White, with notes of pineapple, mango, and graceful indifference.
Inspired by trips to the state's northwestern lakes, Okoboji Grill conjures the wayfaring spirit of summer vacation with hearty American comfort food. Chefs marinate chicken strips in beer before hand-breading them in a secret blend of spices, crown crispy onion strings with Iowa-raised pork chops, and stack thin-sliced meats into towering club sandwiches and edible replicas of the Chrysler Building. Okoboji Grill also culls recipes from international cuisines, adding an American take to greek gyros, housemade tzatziki sauce, and italian bruschetta and pastas.
Tutored in the ways of cookie craftwork, Cookies, etc.'s team of bakers bend batter to their will to bake a variety of tantalizing treats from scratch using tested family recipes. Take the echo out of lonely cookie jars with a lid- and taste bud-lifting dozen baked discs in any combination of six flavors. The chocolate-chocolate-chip cookie settles exponential cocoa cravings by embedding milk-chocolate chips into a chewy brownie circle, and the pecan-chocolate-chip cookie infuses a nutborne crunch to please textural tasters. Cookies, etc.'s Frankenstein refreshment fabricators have harnessed all the powers of edible science to assemble the monster cookie, a rich blend of crunchy peanut butter and oatmeal dough packed with M&M'S and chocolate chips.
WestCyde Wings bastes their signature buffalo-style wings in a selection of 21 lip-smacking sauces. Canines first chew on decisions, opting for traditional bone-in or boneless bites, and mouths water mournfully when forced to choose between dipping cups of blue cheese or ranch dressing that accompany every wing platter and glass of water. Spice sensors with a need for heat can coat the crispy pinions in a spicier ensemble, selecting a sauce that is hot, x-hot, blazing hot, or inferno-ally hot, and milder temperaments with a taste for travel can sample sauces such as curry, Cajun, teriyaki, sweet & sour, or Caribbean jerk (one sauce/order; additional sauces $0.59). Eight beers—including brews from Boulevard, Fat Tire, Bud Light, and Miller Light—cascade from the tap at the bar, slaking thirst wrought from the saucy sustenance or while exchanging pleasantries about optometry with the larger-than-life referees projected on the 8-foot TV screen.