If you don’t mind a so-so meal, you must visit Nau’s Enfield Drug for a time-travel experience that fares much better than sci-fi would have you believe. Not much has changed here since the Nau brothers opened their doors in 1951: low wooden shelves allow you to see around the shop, and the various sundries are sweetly disorganized, recalling perhaps a time when you actually required assistance from a kindly pharmacist to locate the “feminine napkins,” batteries, and aspirin.

The thing that smacks the most of the ‘50s is the lunch counter in the back with swivel stools, small booths, and those heart-shaped wire-backed chairs from the soda fountains of our black-and-white films. Regard the wall of fame, covered with autographed 8x10 glossies of stars from Governor Schwarzenegger to Don Johnson to local boy Lukas Haas.

Breakfast is reliable, including tacos, omelettes, and other egg variations. But we prefer a pimento cheese sandwich, or the flat, small, old-fashioned hamburgers and their standard pink tomato and iceberg lettuce. There’s no fryer, so it’s just chips; but with all the malts, shakes, floats, and sundaes made in front of you with an array of dated soda-shop equipment, you’ll leave plenty full. A 1960s-priced, candy-sweet cherry malt, shared across a Formica table under Valium-yellow and mint-green walls, is just about the most romantic date in town. Still.