Soup Friday: Thompsontown Cornerstone Deli & Restaurant – Vegetable Beef
Fog cascaded over the looming mountains as I headed up Route 22 towards my soup destination. “Perhaps, a bad omen,” I thought as I proudly saluted the Miniature Statue of Liberty as she stood powerfully over the mighty Susquehanna. However, after many years of travelling through Central Pennsylvania, I had grown accustomed to this type of gloomy travelling weather that accompanied all of the traditional Route 22 sights and experiences: a small row of Duncannon gentleman’s clubs that entice truckers resting at a nearby stop and the loneliest men in Dauphin County, the perpetual inconvenient roadwork that often appears near your exit, and a foul-smelling Juniata River distracts you from the thought of the deer carcasses you witnessed on the shoulder of the road a mile back.
After reveling in all the Route 22 wonders, I reached the parking lot of my soup destination, the Thompsontown Cornerstone Deli & Restaurant. I parked next to a station wagon with wood paneling in one of the only remaining spots. In a small borough with the only entertainment options being a Dollar General and a market with skill games, it made sense why many locals would flock here to this pillar of the hamlet in the middle of their day.
I glanced up at the storefront sign. I quickly noticed that the ‘T’ in Cornerstone had been exchanged for a cross featuring the face of Jesus solemnly praying. Despite previously coming here with my father for breakfast on our way to a noon Penn State Football game, I failed to recall noticing any religious element in the restaurant’s branding during my first visit. My excitement to watch a hungover Nittany Lions squad struggle with a MAC team like Bowling Green for three quarters may have blinded me. However, the likelier cause was the new ownership that not only changed part of the name from Corner to Cornerstone, but also redesigned inside the establishment as well. While the setting might not have been the most beautiful in the world, without a doubt, I was in God’s country.
Unintentionally, it’s the second Cornerstone I’ve visited this Soup Season!
I stepped in and saw an interior engulfed in more Christian décor than one might observe in St. Peter’s Basilica Every menu contains a front page with Proverbs 3:5-6. The off-white-colored walls were adorned with the classic rustic inspirational farmhouse signs that added a Christian twist. Instead of basic early 2010s mantras like Live, Laugh, Love or Fueled by Coffee, you’d see Live, Laugh, Pray and Fueled by Coffee & Jesus. Even the bathrooms won’t let you escape from this décor, as Prayer changes everything except the Toilet Paper hangs above a rusted heat register.
As I returned to my seat, I suddenly heard the contemporary Christian music playing softly from a speaker in the ceiling. A knockoff version of Keith Urban serenaded me with a ballad expressing his love for Jesus as I counted fifteen crosses scattered across the small space, with several mounted next to the tables. This included my personal favorite, a blasphemous thin blue line cross. As a nonreligious suburban boy, an unarmed one at that, I’m not going to tell a rural Christian what’s categorically sacrilegious. Hell, I didn’t even have the courage to take a picture of this specific cross. However, this decorative piece certainly felt like it crossed a line!
Basically, something like this!
Outside of a couple of paintings that likely have some underlying biblical motif that I’m not well-versed enough to understand, the only nonreligious décor was a bulletin board in the corner featuring Space Force pamphlets, a tear-off flyer for Tawny’s Cleaning Service, and information about upcoming events in Juniata County. To just view that, one must pass a pronounced prayer board with pieces of flimsy notepad paper pinned to it. I assumed they were likely wishing for more dining options or a bar in this podunk town.
Then, I remembered it’s not Scorn Friday. Even if I believe in the separation of church and soup, that didn’t mean I should have disrespected the religious beliefs or décor of the Thompsontown Cornerstone Deli & Restaurant. Plus, while there were certainly areas they could have improved upon, such as style variety, they absolutely exceled in others: expeditious service and fair pricing.
My seasoned, hardworking waitress led the operation of three total employees. She wove back and forth between tables as she swiftly took orders, barked them to the two staff members in the kitchen, and regularly provided refills of decaf coffee and mountain dew. Both pairs of customers, two older men wearing white sneakers and two middle-aged guys wearing camo jackets, also seemed satisfied with the restaurant’s efficiency.
Anyone who visits will appreciate and may even get nostalgic about the prices as well. These days, there’s not many places where I can find a cup of soup under four dollars or a bowl of soup under five dollars. Here, I ordered a cup of vegetable beef that only costed three fiddy. With a price tag of only fourteen dollars, I was tempted as well by the all-you-can-eat spaghetti meal that came with a side of garlic bread, but I didn’t want my soup score to be tainted by pasta-induced bloating.
The age-old question, “Where’s the beef?”, heavily influenced my selection today. This Soup Season, I’ve only consumed soups with chicken, seafood, and vegetables as the primary ingredients. It was long overdue, but the time for a soup with red meat had finally arrived. My diligent waitress quickly brought out my cup that contained a hearty portion of their vegetable beef that had its contents start to overflow onto the saucer plate beneath it. I also received my largest portion of crackers yet in the form of a basket full of saltine packets.
Oh, there’s the beef!
While I wish the strips of beef were slightly more tender, I still enjoyed their rich flavor, especially when I combined them with an augmenting broth that helped wash down the red meat like a nice cabernet. The broth, or the lack thereof, was the other salient issue with this soup. Like most soup fanatics, internally, I endured the common soup fanatic quandary with this soup of wanting as much of the meat and vegetables as possible while also getting a suitable amount of broth. This vegetable beef delivers on the former desire, but severely underwhelmed with the latter. The perfect balance is difficult for any soup to achieve, but when it’s served in cup size, the request is nearly impossible. However, to their credit, I could tell this soup was made with love and care, and maybe even faith too!
I loved the supportive roles the veggies and starches played. The corn, potatoes, carrots, lima beans, celery, and tomatoes were all fine on their own, but together as a medley they helped transcend the soup beyond your typical beef vegetable soup by making it feel more complete. So complete, that as I closed my eyes, I easily imagined myself at my parents’ house on a Sunday in February. There, with all of my direct family members, we warmed up by enjoying a pleasant Sunday roast dinner and discussing the memories of winters past. The soup also allowed me to tune out the faux Chris(tian) Stapleton song about faith in favor of evoking the classic Bob Crosby tune Dear Hearts and Gentle People. With each spoonful the song’s chorus lyrics that were fitting for the setting repeated.
I love those dear hearts and gentle people
Who live and love in my home town
They read the good book from Fri' till Monday
That's how the weekend goes
After finishing every last drop and paying the check, I received a warm and appreciative, “Thanks for stopping by! Take care!”, as I shuffled out the door. As I waited for my phone to acquire the directions back to my house, I reflected on the meal and the town one last time. While it might not be an area that I can bring my friends of a certain complexion to after dusk, it proved that it could at least be declared as one thing:
This is Soup Country!
Soup Score: