More on the Choo-Choo

At about 1 o’clock on a moderately warm spring afternoon, the Choo-Choo Restaurant in Des Plaines, Illinois, was alive with kids, mothers, grandparents and an occasional father — I was one of two. A small place like that, stocked with kids, is bound to be loud, and it was, with the addition of the clatter of dishes and the special whirling wheel-sound a model train makes. The place smelled good, too: the smell of short-order cooking.

The gimmick at the Choo-Choo is that a model train loops around the counter and back into the kitchen, where it picks up food to be delivered to the patrons. It’s a larger model, I think Model O, since it needs to be large to haul the meals. The engine said GE AC 4400CW, and pulled four flatcars fitted with plastic baskets, the kind in which hamburgers and French fries are served. It must have made the circuit a few dozen times while we were there, sometimes going around without food.

The train is actually on a track recessed a bit from the counter at which people sit on stools, and on the left- and right-hand sides of the counter were a few booths. We sat at the furthest booth on the left. A young man took our order — cheeseburger for me, kid’s grilled cheese for Ann — and a few minutes later, the train came by with our food. How did it know where to stop? Each booth or seat had a number, so I suppose the cook could set the train to go to the number. I was still looking at the menu (it had the Story of the Choo-Choo on the back), and before I noticed our food, the employee who’d taken our order handed it to me from off the train (I tipped him).

A pretty good cheeseburger. The patty had an irregular shape, like you might make for yourself. The shakes were also supposed to be good, but I passed on them this time. I suspect that they would have been delivered by hand.

According to menu, James and Marilyn Ballowe started the place in 1951, with Mr. Ballowe wearing and engineer’s cap and red bandana, and blowing at whistle sometimes. They ran the place until the late 1970s. The text implied, but did not say, that James passed away some time ago, and that the restaurant closed for an unspecified time, but was now open again with new owners — with Marilyn’s approval. Perhaps James’ shade still shows up now and then to watch the trains go ’round too.