I originally booked my trip to Omaha to witness the nearby sandhill crane migration, one of the world’s greatest wildlife spectacles, where millions of birds layover every spring at some random river. Sounds exhilarating, I know. YouTube it before judging me.

Anyways, the bird party got canceled after a scheduling snafu. So my wife and I did the next best thing: eat the best Omaha steak in the city, as well as a few other unexpected regional delicacies.

Those were namely Ruebens — which most food historians believe were actually invented in Omaha, years before they became popular in New York. Also runzas, a homemade hot pocket of beef and cabbage. And lastly … wait for it, chili and cinnamon rolls! You read that right. Many Nebraskans eat the breakfast dessert with hot chili as if it were corn bread or a dinner roll.

Is it weird? Yes. Does it work? No. Which is why the food pairing never ventured farther than a few isolated pockets in Iowa and Kansas. I tried the combo at the best fast food restaurant in Nebraska and my favorite original food in the entire state: Runza. Their homemade chili was five stars and the cinnamon roll was a solid four.

But the real star of the show was their fresh baked runza — an elongated and empanada-like soft roll filled with juicy ground beef and cheese-like cabbage. Uh–may–zing, dear reader. A taste and texture love letter from the marvelous Midwest. These warm sandwiches are so beloved, my Uber driver ships them on dry ice to his mother in Florida.

As for the Rueben sandwich, I found the best one (in the actual town that invented them) at All In Thyme. Homemade rye grilled in butter. Thousand island “aioli.” Just the right amount of sauerkraut. And thick chunks of slow-cooked corned beef stacked in juicy layers. Not dry, deli sliced. Real, unprocessed corn beef, people. (Eat your heart out, Katz’s of New York. I did.) Holy moly, it was good.

As for the namesake Omaha steak, what started as a showdown between the top-two ranked steakhouses in the city — J. Gilbert’s and The Drover — ended with an unassuming darkhorse winner at Burdock & Bitters, right next door to J. Gilbert’s. While the latter was fantastic in both the ribeye and tenderloin cuts, the former was a titch better with the succulent bone-in ribeye, no name brand needed. (That said, J. Gilbert’s served the best soy glazed salmon of my entire life, flown in fresh every two days, I kid you not. Best dessert too: 24 layer chocolate cake.)

As for The Drover, they served the best filet mignon — aged in whisky marinade and melt in your mouth delicious. So I had found my answer.

And then Clio happened. I’m so glad “she” did. Located in the charming Old Market district, where you can literally see the once famous starting point of westward pioneers, this trendy new restaurant has to be the best Mediterranean restaurant in America. Has to be. Because it innovates on old world recipes from the Mediterranean in a way that excited my palate more than any other meal on any other continent — let alone the Midwest — in years. Years!

The hanging ceilings, rich and complex mouthfeel of the food, adorable plates, colorful decor, passionate service–everything (minus the confused baba ganoush) was a revelation and culinary highlight of a weekend filled with serendipitous delights and several added pounds. Make that many added pounds.

In Omaha of all places.

This isn’t flyover country. It’s must-visit country. If only for the food.

Blake Snow contributes to fancy publications and Fortune 500 companies as a bodacious writer-for-hire and seasoned travel journalist to all seven continents. He lives in Provo, Utah with his wife, five children, and one ferocious chihuahua.