Maid-Rite & B-Bop’s
No trip to Iowa would be complete without a stop at one of my mother-in-law’s favorite places: Maid-Rite.
Famous for its loose-meat hamburgers—a sandwich that looks like it fell apart before it ever came together—Maid-Rite has been slinging crumbly beef since 1926.
If you’re from Kansas, you’ll see the resemblance to NuWay’s Crumbly Burgers, which arrived in 1930. Basically, it’s a Midwestern family feud: which loose-meat sandwich reigns supreme? (Spoiler: it depends on which state you’re standing in.)
Full disclosure—I’m not a hamburger fan. So instead of Maid-Rite, I wandered into another local legend, B-Bop’s. Their pork tenderloin sandwich called my name, and let me tell you: it was huge, messy, and worth every napkin. B-Bop’s history started in Illinois in 1970 as Mr. Quick’s before finding its groove and officially becoming B-Bop’s in Des Moines in 1988. Since then, it’s been the go-to for burgers, fries, and sandwiches big enough to make you question your life choices.
Plantoir: Des Moines’ Giant Garden Trowel
If your garden tools feel a little underwhelming, Des Moines has you covered. Plantoir… the world’s largest garden trowel… stands 23 feet tall and weighs 2,300 pounds. It’s basically a hand shovel after a strict protein diet.
Created in 2001 by pop-art duo Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen, this big red digger debuted on the roof of the Met in New York before retiring to Iowa, where the soil is friendlier. Today it stands outside the Meredith Corporation headquarters (home of Better Homes & Gardens) as a nod to their 100th anniversary.
Whether you’re into art, gardening, or just oversized utensils, Plantoir is worth a selfie. And if you’ve seen the giant shuttlecocks at the Nelson-Atkins in Kansas City, you’ll recognize the same creative touch.
Zombie Burger
Listed as one of the best things to do in Des Moines, this zombie-themed restaurant is equal parts spooky and fun. Walking in felt like The Walking Dead met Shaun of the Dead… creepy, but with better snacks.
I ordered The Apocalypse… a cheese and mushroom croquette disguised as a hamburger. It was delicious, weird, and exactly what you’d expect if Guy Fieri opened a fallout shelter. Drinks had clever zombie themes, but since I’m keeping things dry through fair season, I stuck with the sober side of the menu. (Somewhere, Rick Grimes is disappointed.)
The best part? An adult meal served in a cardboard box… complete with a zombie action figure. Yes, a Happy Meal for grown-ups. McDonald’s, take notes.
The food was solid, but the ambiance was what sold it. Dinner with a wink, a smirk, and the occasional undead groan.
The Gay District
Looking for a T-shirt store called Raygun, I turned a corner and suddenly found myself in the middle of a rainbow… literally. The intersection was painted in Pride colors, a clear sign I’d landed in Des Moines’ gay district.
The area’s only a couple blocks, but packed with personality: bars, restaurants, and quirky shops where you’ll leave with something you never planned to buy.
Raygun was the standout. Calling it a T-shirt store doesn’t do it justice… it’s more like a shrine to sarcasm and Midwestern wit. Shirts, stickers, art, shot glasses… you name it, and it’ll probably have you laughing.
I went hunting for a Des Moines Pride flag, didn’t find a big one, but did snag a sticker. Perfect. I gave it to my husband, because nothing says romance quite like a rainbow sticker from a snarky T-shirt shop.
The Lewd Statue
Right across from the Capitol sits what was once called “the most scandalous statue in Iowa.” Part of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, critics in 1898 labeled it lewd, and the controversy was so heated it never got a formal dedication.
The artist, a Danish immigrant, wasn’t aiming for scandal. The Capitol guidebook described the statue as “a beautiful, youthful mother offering nourishment to her children.” Translation: dinner wasn’t coming from the kitchen.
The monument itself was Iowa’s tribute to Civil War veterans, paid for in part by refunded war taxes. Construction started in 1888 and finished in 1896… but because of endless arguments about the location and design, the dedication didn’t happen until 1945. That’s nearly 50 years of Iowa side-eyeing its own statue.
The winning design came from Iowa artist Harriet A. Ketcham, who sadly died before its completion. Her blend of symbolic and real figures included the “nourishing mother”… still inspiring, indecent, or both, depending on who you ask.
Spotted Dog
This little gem downtown made me laugh. From some angles, it looks like a dog relieving itself right on the street. Luckily, it’s not public indecency… it’s public art.
Part of a program to bring unique bike racks downtown, this piece is called Spotted Dog, by artist Matthew Kargol. You can lock up your bike while Spot lifts a leg. Talk about marking your territory.
The Giant Pitchfork
Johnston, Iowa, just outside Des Moines, has its own towering tribute to farm life: a 41-foot pitchfork. It’s not the world’s largest (that title belongs to Casey, Illinois, where giant things are practically a sport), but it still makes a statement.
Local craftsman Clarence Martin built it in 2003 right next to his workshop… an old railroad caboose, because why not? The oversized fork quickly became a landmark, part sculpture, part conversation starter.
Martin passed away in 2009, but his giant pitchfork still stands… proof that sometimes the best way to leave your mark is to build something way too big to miss.
There’s more from Des Moines… Check out Des Moines History (coming soon), Des Moines Art (coming soon), and the Iowa State Fair (coming soon).
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