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They do not, however, have a website or any historical information available. So it shall remain a mystery as to why it's called Governor's and why Ben Franklin gets his drink on there.
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Governor's seems like a typical bar and grill, dim lighting, high seat tables, TVs tuned to ESPN, and a large bar. However, as well as providing a well-stocked bar, they focus on serving a variety of quality food. My grandpa was particularly fond of their ribs, of which Richie partook.
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I have to admit, service is always pretty slow. We were not terribly interested in the NBA playoffs on TV (Oklahoma City has a team?), and neither of us wanted to dip into the public popcorn cesspool. However, it picked up once our waitress noticed us and got our drinks out.
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We started with an order of fried pickles, because, you know, veggies are important. The pickles had a crispy seasoned exterior hugging the delicious dill.
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I am a creature of habit, and generally always order the pretzel stack. This time was no exception. It's a classy way to eat a giant pretzel, sliced in half, sandwiching a good portion of smoked turkey, melted cheese, lettuce, tomato, and dripping with honey mustard. Much more satisfying than nibbling a Super Pretzel while balancing a small tub of nacho cheese in your lap, in a flip-up seat at the ballpark.
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The special that night was their 'famous' ribs, served with a side of onion rings. Governor's uses a "special" barbecue sauce which I assume is an original recipe, but then again, it could be KC Masterpiece dumped into an unlabeled bucket.
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Richie thought they were decent for bar ribs, but nothing like slow cooked and falling off the bone. the onion rings were good, but count em- one, two, three. He also noted that the beans were pretty tasty, but sub-par when compared to his own recipe.
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Overall, Governor's is always a pleasant experience, but nothing to-die-for. Probably a nice stop for the casual drinker. It seems to be a gathering place for Bettendorf's 'Athletic Booster crowd', so avoid on Sundays during football season.
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