No matter how many times you've eaten at Stroud's, the moment eventually comes when the server — or maybe an army of servers, marching to the sound of sizzling animal fat — arrives at your table with so much food, you have to unbutton your pants just to look at it. But that's what makes Stroud's the perfect place to take out-of-towners, especially if they hail from one gastronomically dainty coast or the other. These are Midwestern portions: four hunks of chicken, lathered salad, heaps of potatoes, green beans and hulking cinnamon rolls with every dinner. You can try to regulate your intake — or even split an entree, if you're European or something — but there's no avoiding the food coma that awaits. Embrace it: There's a nap in your future.

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