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By Tom Allin
On 8 July we arrived mid-afternoon at The Black Top Farm two tenths of a mile outside of Hartington. We checked in for two nights and unloaded our stuff. Then drove back into town to find dinner – Jane, our hostess, told us without reservations we may have to drive to another town for dinner. That was all the motivation we needed to immediately get back to Hartington.
Our first stop didn’t serve meals but the second did. Most importantly the second said if we would sit down they would serve us before all their tables were filled with guests from their lodge or tonight’s other reservations. Didn’t have to ask twice.
The next morning we were downstairs eating breakfast by 8:30. The word, hearty, hardly describes all the food. The following morning, we let Jane know we didn’t need the beans or the meat. My favorite was the oat cakes, flat like our pancakes but with a very different taste to them. Nancy liked the oat cakes but said the eggs may have been the best tasting she had ever had; this from a person who eats eggs for breakfast at least 29 mornings out of 30.
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