REVIEW: Real deal at Mildred's

At little, out-of-the-way diners, "homemade" doesn't mean what it used to. It might mean "pretty good" or "comfort food" or even "we really need to get rid of this item so let's try to sell more of it."

But it rarely means "We actually made this, from scratch, right here, the way you would at home."

In fact, the abuse of "homemade" has gotten so bad that it has created a reaction phrase. Artisan places have started replacing it with "housemade" as a way saying, "No, seriously, this really is homemade."

But some people love food too much to put up with those kinds of shenanigans, so when diners at Mildred's Café hear that the raspberry cream pie, apple pie, tangerine pie or coconut cream pie are homemade, it means the crust was mixed from butter, salt and flour in the tiny diner's kitchen, and the raspberries and cream are as fresh and unrefined as any you'd find at home.

"Everything here is made as if back in the day," said Cheryl Kondratow, who owns the place with her husband, John. Mildred was her grandmother, who taught her how to bake.

Mildred's is a tiny lunch counter tucked in the pines of Cascade on the way to the Pikes Peak Highway. It has about 10 red vinyl booths and a long, Formica counter with spinning stools and a communal, dog-eared Gazette always sitting at one end.

The short menu has all-natural burgers, fries and shakes, as well as some quirky items you won't find elsewhere. I discovered the place when I was hungry after a hike and couldn't drive by the homemadepie sign, even though I was thinking, "Those pies can't REALLY be homemade."

Formerly the Peak Treat, Mildred's was built on the side of U.S. Highway 24 in 1954 and moved when the road was widened in the 1970s.

The Kondratows took it over in 2006, even though they had never run a restaurant before, because, Cheryl said, "I couldn't find a restaurant where the food is for real, so I decided I would just do my own."

She doesn't cut corners, and the results will take you back in time to an era before polysyllabic chemical stabilizers and preservatives. The coleslaw, the potato salad, and the secret spice mix in the handformed hamburgers, are all made from scratch.
The meat comes from Ranch Foods Direct because, Cheryl said, "The meat itself is just good; you don't have to do anything to it."

Order the cheese steak sub ($6.99 for a 6-inch) and you'll see what she means. She starts by throwing a ruby mound of fresh beef on the hot grill. Then she tosses in peppers and onions, and lets it cook together. Finally, she lays a little cheese on top and lets it melt through. The result is the closest thing to an East Coast cheese steak I've found, and the beef is divine.

Just as good is the Thanksgiving sandwich ($6.99) - that classic leftover concoction that's better than the main event. Moist, thick cuts of roast turkey are piled on a Kaiser roll with stuffing, coleslaw and a jiggling slice of from-the-can cranberry sauce.

Breakfast shows the same dedication to detail. The rich, flaky biscuits are made from scratch. The scrambled eggs are cracked one at a time in an era when pouring from a carton is the norm.

When I ordered a scrambled egg sandwich ($3.75), Cheryl's husband asked whether I wanted mayonnaise on it. Who knew you could eat mayo for breakfast? I went for it. And on the side ordered a gooey, delicious homemade cinnamon roll, so slaked in buttery cinnamon sugar that the sludge had soaked down and formed a type of toffee where it hit the hot baking sheet.

Not everything at Mildred's is stunning. Like most diners, you find what you like. The barbecue beef sandwich ($6.99) didn't have the smoky complexity of a good barbecue. With its shreds of Ranch Foods roast and tangy sauce, it was closer to an upscale sloppy joe.

The potato salad, though homemade, is too old-style mayonnaise-y for me. The hot fudge sundaes ($3.50) use what tastes like Hershey's syrup - not bad, but nothing special.

But all those things are eclipsed by just one slice of pie ($3.25). You never know what you're going to get. Cheryl shows up each morning and does what she feels like. The first time I visited, it was a springy, spicy pumpkin that had diners chatting between tables about its excellence.

The next time, it was raspberry cream: unadulterated berries with a touch of cream poured into a homemade crust, then covered in a light, eggy custard and sprinkled with pecans.

I'd never had anything like it. The tart, sharp berries were the perfect running mate for the round, nutty pecans. And the thick, rich crust was unmistakably, really, no-foolin' homemade.

MILDRED'S CAFÉ
****(Still makin' it like they used ta)

Address: 4645 Fountain Ave, Cascade Contact: 684-7855
Hours: 7:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. daily (open later in summer for ice cream; call first)
Entees: $3.75 -$11.99
Vegetarian: Broccoli sandwich (seriously)
Liquor: No
Plastic: Yes