I didn’t really have anything specifically planned for my last day on US soil. I figured by the same time the next day, I’d be somewhere flying over the Atlantic headed south, so I decided to spend those last hours with my car & my camera, just driving north to see what I could see. I was up at 5:30 Saturday morning to pack my bags for Sunday (so I could enjoy the whole day & not be stressed about all I needed to do later). I headed out the door at 7:30am, and wouldn’t you know it, five minutes later my stomach was growling.
I needed to think about where I could grab some breakfast. Luckily for me, six miles north of my condo, is the quaint little town of Woodstock, NH and one of my favorite restaurants: The Woodstock Inn Station. This place has a nice little history dating back to when it was originally the Lincoln Railroad Station in the 1800’s. If you are ever in the area of the White mountains, I highly recommend you stop in. The food is great, day or night, the service is friendly, the atmosphere is traditional New England and they even have their own brewery. I’d eaten there many times for lunch and dinner, but never for breakfast.
Stepping in the door is almost like stepping through a porthole in time, from the heavy wooden door, to the decor to the creaky wooden floor. You’re out of modern 2013 & almost stepping back 100 years.
I was happily greeted by a smiling waitress & showed to a table by the window, where she handed me the menu. At quick glance, I was thoroughly impressed with the selection, but since I’ve been on a benedict kick recently, I ordered Eggs Lafayette, consisting of perfectly poached eggs on toasted english muffins topped with asparagus & hollandaise, and served with a side of home fried potatoes, really good coffee (not easy to find in NH), orange juice & a house-made sticky bun. I sat and reveled in every bite and wished I had the stomach of Anthony Bourdain to order and taste ten more items on the menu! -But I’m not, so I didn’t. Instead, I ate slowly, listened to conversations going on around me, all with their heavy New Hampshire accents, and enjoyed every moment of my breakfast before going out and beginning my drive across the Kancamangus Highway