Spend enough time around Grand Lake, and sooner or later the conversation drifts—not just to boating or ballgames, but to food. Not the kind served today in polished chains or drive-thrus, but the kind that used to come steaming out of small kitchens tucked behind counters, served with a smile, on chipped plates in places that felt like home.
Though many of these eateries have vanished from the map, they remain etched in the memories of generations across Celina, St. Marys, Montezuma, Wapakoneta, and the countryside in between. These weren’t just places to eat. They were landmarks of daily life, where hometown flavors met front-counter friendship.
Where Pizza Took Root
At 937 West Bank Road in Celina, Pizza by Donisi wasn’t just the place to grab a pie—it was where many locals first experienced pizza at all. With its thin, salty crust and square-cut slices, Donisi’s quickly became a staple for Friday nights and family outings. It was the kind of place where you might spot a couple fresh from their wedding dining just a few tables down from a group of teenagers celebrating a basketball win.
Cassano’s Pizza King wasn’t just another pizza place—it was a Celina fixture. Often remembered interchangeably with “Pizza King,” it served up more than just thin, crispy dough and tangy sauce. At its peak, it shared space with London Bobby’s Fish and Chips at the spot where Casa Rodriguez now stands, making it a go-to for families, friends, and late-night crowds alike. The jukebox played in the background while customers played Pac-Man in the arcade room or grabbed a plastic cup of draft beer during quarter-beer nights. Some worked there during high school or college, while others remember picking up a pizza after a shift at Gibbons Hospital or making special trips from nearby towns just to satisfy a craving. Even now, loyal fans make the drive to Sidney or Lakeview for that unmistakable taste—especially if they can get it with cornmeal on the crust, just like they remember.
Burgers, Sandwiches, and Supper Plates
But pizza was just the beginning. The region’s culinary identity was stitched together with the hearty, homemade meals served in countless small diners and cafes.
There was Happy Humpty, where the burgers were big enough to build a memory around. Some still recall driving from two towns over just to bite into a char-grilled Italian sausage or cheeseburger so flavorful it became a part of their personal history.
At Thompson’s Café, the ham was sliced fresh off the bone behind the bar—piled high on a bakery bun, served with no fuss and all flavor. Meanwhile, Club Café earned its loyal following with golden, breaded tenderloins and a familiar crowd on bingo night.
And who could forget Fleck’s Pool Hall in Celina? Known just as much for its fried bologna and ham sandwiches as for the click of billiard balls, it was where local kids learned to play—and eat—like regulars.
Deep-Fried Legends and Lakeside Meals
If you wanted something crisp and comforting, The Empire was calling. Onion rings, potato soup, and the famous “Eddie Boy” burger drew crowds of families and couples alike. Just the mention of it still sparks warm, hungry smiles.
Across town at Hollister’s—or Poppa Artie’s, as it was earlier known—onion rings and deep-fried pickles took center stage. Fried to a golden crunch and dipped in tangy sauce, they became a cherished ritual for many.
Out in Montezuma, Arnie’s Corner welcomed diners with fried chicken, cheeseburgers, and a neighborly air that made it feel like an extension of home.
Sunday Dinners and Supper Clubs
For families gathering after church or celebrating special occasions, few places could top Koch’s in St. Marys. With its reputation for hearty Sunday dinners, it brought people together with food that felt like it came straight from Grandma’s kitchen.
Over in Coldwater, Bettie’s offered something different—fried rabbit and wilted lettuce salad, dishes so unique and well-prepared they became part of local lore. And for a proper steak, Luedeke’s Steak House delivered with thick cuts grilled just right. But it was Behm’s Restaurant that left the most lasting culinary mystery—turtle soup so beloved that locals still talk about its disappearance like the end of a good book that came too soon.
Coffee, Breakfast, and the Places That Started Your Day
The Celina Coffee Shop was a reliable spot for early risers and late-night football fans alike. It wasn’t just about the coffee—it was the conversations over breakfast, the familiar faces, and the feeling of starting your day in a place where everybody knew someone.
Likewise, Casey Jones echoed with the clatter of chicken dinners and the buzz of a happy crowd, while The Inlet in St. Marys turned dinner into an event with its popular seafood buffet.
Roadside Stops and Teen Hangouts
You didn’t have to go far for something good. Carl Wright’s Truck Stop offered a hot breakfast to truckers and locals alike—eggs, toast, and coffee strong enough to carry you through the day.
At Snack Time Drive-In, teens lined up in the summer heat for burgers, fries, and milkshakes—maybe served by a friend working their first job behind the counter. On Old 33, Midway Restaurant gave travelers a cozy place to stop, rest, and recharge.
A Broader Circle of Favorites
Even short drives brought great rewards. In Wapakoneta, places like Brown’s and The Chalet delivered comfort food and, sometimes, a live show. Lucky Steer helped make Sunday dinners linger just a bit longer. In Montezuma, Doc’s was always worth the trip—whether you came for a burger or just to be part of the crowd.
Gone, But Not Forgotten
These places slowly disappeared, one by one. Some were replaced. Others were left behind. But their stories linger—passed down at family reunions, swapped at class reunions, or retold at new restaurants whose walls will never quite echo the same.
Ask around, and someone will tell you about the biggest cheeseburger they ever had at Happy Humpty, the way the turtle soup tasted at Behm’s, or how the onion rings at Poppa Artie’s could make a bad day better. These weren’t just meals. They were memory-makers.
And though the signs are down and the doors are locked, their legacy still seasons the stories of this community.
Because in Celina, and across Mercer and Auglaize Counties…
It’s never just about the food.
It’s about where you were, who you were with, and how you felt.
It’s about home.
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