Dear reader, writing this article was like going ten rounds with the boxing world heavyweight champion. Imagine this: There I was, thinking I had discovered the hardest thing to do when asked by a child to skip a rock across a loose pile of hay, when my editor Maggie interrupted me solemnly. “Austin, I know it's tough," she began while I froze up. Tension piled up inside me as she continued, “I need you to go try out the best wings in Omaha, at Tracks."

She had already set up an interview with the owner, too.

My heart fell…or so I told her.

I mean, it’s a boss’s responsibility to make life harder for employees, right? Can’t let her know what a sweet gig I had landed – let’s keep it between you and I dear reader. Anyways, after tossing the rock to the side I jumped into my car and drove straight to the restaurant, (but not before giving my editor a lamenting and sorrowful smile so she would keep giving me these “difficult" jobs).

Tracks, while taking up the bottom floor of a house built in the 1940’s – and started in the sixties – has persisted as a business that whole time, unlike plenty of other bars and restaurants that have gone out of business since. Restaurants at the most basic level need to provide a warm, safe place for customers. Spaciousness might be a consideration, but it is not the highest nor the most important, which is the question, “How good is the food?"

With the sole goal of figuring that out, I arrived to interview the owner. Surprise met me as three men, all co-owners, greeted me with warm smiles and then invited me to join them. Introducing themselves in order first as Justin Pogge, Mark Pogge, and Dylan Pogge– they all burst out into laughter and pointed to Dylan, who smiled and admitted his last name was actually Foster.

Mark and Dylan had been in the restaurant industry for twenty years, and Justin owned a house down the street for years. I asked Justin then, how he got into the business and he  laughed,

“I used to live down the street from this place. On the very day the previous owner purchased the place, I asked her if she’d sell it to me. She laughed of course, owned it for years. Then one day she decided she did want to sell it and asked if I still wanted to buy it.” Justin, Mark and Dylan have owned it now for two years, and over that time had come to know many of the patrons. The reason they are opening up a new Tracks location out in West Omaha is because they would often get many, different people from out west who would often lament that they, “wish they could come more, but it's just so far away."

The owners are looking to open around springtime, and are already decorating it with local art while also hiring a local artist to create large racetrack murals inside. They spoke some about how back in the day after the races at the old Aksarben horse-racetrack, the jockeys would retire in the evenings at Tracks.

“So," I began, “if you were to recommend a single food item on the menu, which would it be?"

"The Triple Crown.” They said almost all at once, nodding.

“Can I buy some off of you?" I asked, intent on truly beginning my mission.

“Your money's no good here.” Justin said firmly.

“No, really, I’ll buy–” I was trying to tell them my boss gave me a budget,

“You know, maybe Thai peanut is up there." Dylan added, “Try that too."

Mark Pogge interjected, “And the broasted Chicken, from the original menu. The old folks who come in order it all the time.”

"He has to try the Mac ‘n cheese bites." Someone added.

Dear reader, I am not tall nor am I broad. I was also raised by a polish-croatian, Catholic father in South Omaha and that means I feel indebted to finish all the food in front of me. Pleading would have done no good, I am certain. Those three men in front of me: torturers. That’s what I’ll tell my boss. My arm was twisted behind my back!

I tried, ardently, oh Lord, I tried to focus on the interview, but as two sets of wings, a basket of what looked like Wisconsin cheese curds, and the largest fried chicken breast I had ever seen in my life was stacked in front of me - the men across sat smiling warmly.

“Uh, what’s the secret to making good wings?" I asked, totally professionally as I raised one of the Triple Crown wings to my mouth. Dylan chipped in,

“It’s the fresh ingredients. We don't partial-cook anything and store it away for later like the other wing places. All of our sauce is homemade and we cook it on a flat-top as to not dry out any meat. And hire me to do it!” 

I bit into the Triple Crown, and the weight of my task was lifted from my heavy shoulders: a buffalo base char, cooked on the flat top, only to be retossed in garlic Parmesan, with some umami dry-rub applied to be topped off by a hot-honey drizzle met my mouth. Likely if I wasn’t a professional that took my duties seriously, I would have devoured all of them right there with wicked honey-sauced fingers.

Alas, I moved onto the Thai Peanut wings and was delighted at how fresh and light they were. Dylan was very proud of them, explaining as I ate that they were made with peanut butter, onions, red Thai chilli among other secret ingredients. Where the Triple Crown was stout and firm and warm, the Thai Peanut was smooth and easy.

“Who’re your customers?" I managed to ask between what were likely gentlemanly bites into the wings,

“Everyone." Mark said, shrugging almost in disbelief, “We have families come in all the time, sports fans often set up days for fans of teams to come in and watch games. Old folk come in for the Broasted Chicken all the time." I understood it, too. The place had been a Hallmark in Omaha for sixty years, which upon discussion with them they noted that they were celebrating Track’s sixtieth birthday on June 20th.

While he spoke about the broasted chicken I was certainly eyeballing it. It looked like a really large chicken breast, and I wasn’t quite certain what to expect. Who had heard of surfer dudes making chicken before? ‘Bro’-asted Chicken? Normally the breasts you get from supermarkets are dry at best and require a tidal wave of water between each bite to sooth the desert of a mouth they leave behind, but when I bit into the breast presented before me I was swept away with how juicy it was.

“You know one of the foods we have that I really like is our coleslaw.” He ordered me some, then continued as I assured myself that this much food was entirely possible to eat, "We make it here, our own sauce.”

It arrived as I tried the mac’ n cheese bites, which while looking like Wisconsin cheese curds, I'd likely submit them to a competition for ‘best cheese bites’ because they were absolutely delicious. Working with children as long as I have, it would be easy to see kids eating them forever. And me – I ate them all right away and then moved onto the fresh coleslaw.

It was indeed fresh, even crisp, and not drenched in mayo and whatever other white sauces people use to drown and soften up crunchy green ingredients. Now that I had tried each dish they wanted me to try, I moved back to the wings.

 “And, what makes it worth it? What do you all enjoy most about owning the bar?”

While I, like a cartoon villain cleaned the chicken off the bones in front of me, Dylan said he loves the guests, Mark loves that he is keeping a neighborhood bar alive, and Justin loves the stories, especially every time he talks to a new person about Tracks and they exclaim something along the lines of, “I met my wife there!" And, “I met my ex wife there!" All of us chuckling, he added, “And I've even heard, "I met my wife there, and my ex-wife!”

The three of them were incredibly polite, giving, and merry in attitude. I was truly fortunate to have such a hard job. Always intending to catch those that I interview off-guard, my final question followed,

“If Tracks had a theme song, what would it be?"

Mark was quick to answer,

"I mean, is it too cheesy? "I love this bar."

As a closing confession: That night I ate all of the food they gave me. It was delicious.

Austin Petak is an aspiring novelist and freelance journalist who loves seeking stories and the quiet passions of the soul. If you are interested in reaching out to him to cover a story, you may find him at austinpetak@gmail.com.