By Bas B.

Last Saturday, Mrs Missouri’s little brother graduated college
(hooray!) and this inspired our latest road trip to Cape Girardeau,
Missouri’s largest city in the south eastern part. The city lies on the
banks of the Mississippi and is the closest I’ve been to Tennessee to
date. That may sound like a weird statement, but Cape Girardeau is so
lame, that its best feature is getting me closer to Memphis than ever
(yes, I do realize I lost all my Cape Girardeau readership now). The
graduation itself was good to visit, but in no way spectacular. The
after party, however, took place half an hour away from Cape, in a
little town called Sikeston.

On the way over to the graduation, Mrs Missouri mentioned the
possibility to go to Lambert’s, in a conversation that reveals how
strange their concept is. For a setting, picture us around 6:30 on the
I-55, the sunrise glistering in the rear windows ahead of us, and my
right hand grabbing the coffee between us.

“After the graduation, we could go to Lambert’s.”
“What’s Lambert’s?”
“Home of the throwed rolls (Dutch: broodje).”
“Why do they call them throned rolls?”
“No, no. Throwed. Because they throw them.”
“Why do they throw their rolls?”
“Because it’s fun. Someone comes in, shouts “HOT ROLLS!”, you raise your hand, and they throw you one.”

“That sounds crazy, I don’t think you’re explaining that right.”

Sure enough, that is the most literal description you could give
someone, and actually how this works. You sit down, someone rolls a cart
full of hot rolls into the room, parks it, and starts tossing around
freshly baked rolls to anyone who wants it. In the meantime, you get to
order your main dish and feel sorry for the girl going around with baked
potatoes, because she is competing with the guys starting a one-sided
food fight. I was impressed with the accuracy the throwers have. You can
see a GIF image I made below of a roll being thrown (together with the
lady in the front going around with syrup and apple butter).