In this frigid college town I’m staying in, I would drive past a restaurant called “Runza” twice a day.  Their kitschy billboard “Lettuce suggest a salad for you” made me think it was a salad bar-esque type eating establishment.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

People in Nebraska don’t eat vegetables, for God’s sake.  It’s cow country.  Land of bovines.  People eat beef here … and lots of it.  No, a runza is a kind of sandwich.  “It’s like a glorified ‘Hot Pocket'”, said one local.  That was a spot-on assessment.

The runza originated in Russia in the 1800’s.  It made its way to Germany before eventually arriving in the Midwest.  It’s slang for “pirogi” — or any food consisting of filling stuffed into dough.  It was actually pretty good in a what-the-hell-is-exactly-in-this sort of way.  Turns out it’s a combination of fillings: beef, pork, cabbage or sauerkraut, onions and seasonings.  I got a little crazy and asked for some Swiss cheese on mine.  The kid behind the counter said, “Wow … that sounds pretty good.”

The thing about the Runza restaurant is that it appears to polarize this community.  You either love Runza or you hate it.  I asked around where we should eat and several people suggested going there.  Several others were adamant I avoid it at any cost.  “I haven’t eaten a runza since I was a kid,” said the hotel clerk at the Super 8.  “Hated it then.  Still hate it now.”

She was too skinny anyway.  Probably a rogue vegan or something.

Eventually, I broke down and had to see what all the chatter was about.  It was about what I expected … a carb-lover’s dream.  It was a gooey, doughy baked concoction.  To be honest, I think I would have liked to have just tried the filling itself alongside a few onion rings.  But after I threw off the server by suggesting Swiss cheese, I didn’t want his brain to explode if I opted for a dough-free sandwich.

If any of this sounds remotely appealing to you, you can order them online.  Runza restaurants are rampant in Nebraska, but only a select few are sprinkled through Iowa, Kansas and Colorado.   They apparently ship frozen runzas from coast to coast.  Or, open a franchise if you’re feeling particularly randy.

Eating a runza wasn’t exactly on my bucket list, but it’s nice to know I can say … been-there, done-that.  And, if truth be told, it was rather daring of me to go off the eaten path.