As for the apple strudel, the filling was delicious: tart granny smith slices that weren't too mushy, large golden raisins, and small pieces of almonds. Too bad the pastry tasted lean and slightly raw, as if someone skimped on the butter and didn't bake it quite long enough. Gus was pretty happy with the free milk bone he got from their cookie jar (located next to the milk and sugar station), which he held in his mouth during the entire 6+ blocks back until he could enjoy it in the car. 
The stop in Iowa City was a nice break. We tried going to Motley Cow for lunch, but realized it was only open for dinner, so we went to The Hamburg Inn instead. The 97-degree weather would have made sitting on the bench outside of the restaurant nearly unbearable, were it not for the shade from the awning above us. In the attempt to be healthy (what a joke) we shared a deluxe grilled tenderloin sandwich rather than a breaded and fried one--"deluxe" meaning it came with a few pieces of iceberg lettuce and a couple of slices of tomato. Eh, overrated. Tasted like a really dry, overcooked piece of pork in a hamburger bun. The crinkle-cut fries that came with it were comforting in an odd way--reminded me of the slightly bendable fries that came with my elementary school lunches. The real reason we went to this restaurant, however, was for their famous "pie shakes." (Thanks for the suggestion, Katherine.) The first time I heard about such a thing, I couldn't imagine liking it: it's a slice of pie blended with ice cream.
I like having pie a la mode, but ice cream with pie bits suspended in it? I wasn't so sure. We opted for peach pie, and it was surprisingly good (though the extremely hot weather probably helped). The peaches were fairly well integrated into the vanilla ice cream, while the pieces of pie crust could still be fished out in small chunks. In an effort to be healthy (ha!) we ate only 3/4 of the shake.Once in Omaha, we walked around the Old Market area, which seemed to be a pretty happening place, what with its approximately 3x3-block square of restaurants and funky shops. For dinner, we took it easy, eating at La Buvette, a Euro-style wine bar/cafe/shop with bottles upon bottles of wine and spirits lining the painted brick walls. Since we were in supposedly one of the best cities for beef, we felt compelled to order some. Ivan got the "surf and turf" (steak and monkfish on top of mashed potatoes) and a salad, while I, ever the nonconformist, opted for gazpacho with goat cheese and a salad with fava beans and feta. These items were all prepared rather simply (no sauce on the steak, little if any cream in the mashed potatoes, basic vinaigrette on the salad), allowing their inherent flavors to really came through. We agreed that the beef did indeed tasted, for lack of a better word, "beefier" than normal. What made the meal even more impressive was the fact that there was just one chef preparing everything in the center of the store/restaurant with nothing more than two portable burners and two electric toasters. Not an easy feat.
Despite having had the pie shake earlier in the day, I still wanted some ice cream. We stopped by Ted & Wally's to get some coconut coffee and pistachio almond ice cream, which turned out to be slightly melty (I prefer ice cream that is so hard it can be eaten with a fork) and tasted only faintly of what it was supposed to taste like. The pistachio flavor had odd dark green striations throughout (poorly integrated paste food coloring, perhaps?). I think living in Boston for the past three years has turned me into an ice cream snob. Oh, how I miss Christina's. And JP Lick's. And Toscanini's. And Richardson's. And Lizzy's...
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