In Which We Eat at the County Fair

The ferris wheel is torn down, the fairgrounds are empty. I saw a lone "carny" in a truck pulling a canival game trailer heading out of town this morning. Most people around here look forward to the fair each summer. It's such a social event. The parents are thrilled to see people they haven't seen in years. The kids are thrilled to ride the rides. We all have food we only eat at the fairgrounds and can't find any other time of the year. Here is a record of how my family indulged over the last ten days.


At mealtime, our family usually takes a "divide and conquer" approach. On this evening, several members of the family ate pork burgers or pork chop sandwiches from the pork tent. Mike and the girls purchased them and saved a table for us while Brooks got our beverages and I looked for something more exotic.


I decided to try something new. I originally was headed for the Chinese food cart, because I'd heard so many people say that the eggrolls were what they looked forward to. Well, too many people had the same idea and I wasn't willing to stand in a line that stretched to the.... hey, look at that! There's a Cajun food cart. From the Cajun food cart I ordered red beans and rice, and "shrimp on a stick." I washed it all down with my favorite find from this year's fair, a frozen Pepsi from the Goat Shack.


At the Cajun cart, I was tempted by someething else on the menu: Bourbon Chicken on a Stick. Before I ordered, I saw a gentleman recieve his kabob and before he walked away, I asked if that was the Chicken on a Stick. "No, ma'am," he said. "It's Gator on a Stick." I simply had to record that menu item, even though I certainly wasn't going to order it myself. He was kind enough to let me take his picture.


When I was a kid, my parents rarely sprang for a meal at the fair. Too expensive. But we always stopped at the Dairy Bar and got soft serve ice cream on our way out of the fair to the parking lot. Our family has the same tradition.


The day we rode rides was a hot one. Ava chose to beat the heat with a Sno-Cone.


Others recommend the taco salad and I got one for the first time. It was good, but nothing I couldn't recreate at home.


Ok, we love these things. Sometimes called Saratoga Chips, sometimes called Spiral Spuds, they affix a potato to some kind of drill-looking thing and run it through a slicer. It turns a potato into a long, curly spiral, which they plop into hot fat and fry. Here they are topped with cheese, bacon and chives. While Brooks and his buddy were riding rides, there was a brief thunderstorm. They each grabbed an order of Saratoga Chips and ducked into a pavillion for their snack. After another couple of rides, they agreed that those things should be shared with several people, never as a snack for one person. They had a bit of Spiral Spud remorse.


Finally, Sirloin Tips. These things are delicious. They're seasoned beatifully. They're juicy and served with potatoes and chives and mushrooms, peppers and onions, if you wish. And they've been the hot item for the last several years. Whenever we'd walk past the cart, there was always a massive line. And whenever we ate them, there was much planning.... Who was willing to stand in the line? How would the kids be entertained while they waited? But the catch is: They are Very Expensive. During the first few years of their popularity, the price was mentioned when people raved about them, but everyone agreed that they were worth it for a once-a-year treat. In the next few years, more people were grumbling, fewer people were saying that they were worth it. We got the Sirloin Tips for our first meal, two little cardboard trays of the stuff, which we divided between the five of us. Mike said, "Enjoy it, because we'll never eat it again." It cost $26 for two orders. We don't often pay that kind of money to eat by candlelight, let alone with plastic forks. Michael finally declared it too high and it seemed that a lot of the community agreed. I never saw a line at the cart this year.

I don't know how that food looks to you. In mid-July, it would look and sound great to me. At the end of the fair... it looks a little gross. But I know I'll eat it all again next year. For now though, nothing but raw vegetables and lentils.

The Chief

Every region seems to have a favorite locally-owned food shack or drive-through. In our area of Northern Indiana, it is The Chief, a homemade ice cream stand in the downtown, open for business between mid-spring and Labor Day. This year, it opened for late-afternoon/evening business on April 15th. It's run by schoolteachers, so the longer summertime hours can't begin until school is out. Once summer vacation begins, however, they open at noon and close at 9:30 PM, except for Sundays, when they open at 2:00, after they all go to church.

On opening day, my facebook news feed was filled with people bragging about how long they'd stood in line and what flavor they got. I have about fifty friends who "became a fan" of the Chief on FB also. The above picture shows what the line was like on April 15th, and while that's definitely an opening day line, you never walk right up to a window, even in mid-June, when the novelty wears off.



Last week, when the girls and I drove by and saw a line like THIS, we whipped the van into the gravel parking lot to take advantage of the short wait. My older two children were both born in late summer/early fall, so I spent many a summertime month in maternity clothes. I had a hard time resisting the Chief during those summers. I think it's safe to say that I had a dip of lemon in a waffle cone more days than I didn't. In those days, the owners' teenaged son, Josh, was one of the main employees. I'd look for his window, he'd slide it open, grin and say, "Lemon?" Today, the owner himself took a break from filling the ice machine to come over and speak to me while this year's batch of teenagers filled our order. He marveled over the size of my children, remembering the summers before they were born when I stopped in daily. I still only order lemon.

There are places I go, where I only order the same thing over and over again, because I know I'll love it. Do you do that or do you try something different every time? The rest of my family usually gets one of about three tried and true favorites. On this day, Sophia got Mint Chip...

...and Ava got Cookies and Cream.

Brooks usually gets the Peanut Butter ice cream and Michael... If he's really holding back and just getting a cone, he'll get butter pecan. But if he's getting his favorite, it's the Turtle Sundae. Also good is the Coconut Almond Crunch Sundae. They have excellent toasted coconut ice cream. In the sundae, there is some hot fudge involved and topped with an almond cookie. Oh my.

Next time you're in the "Michiana" area, pop in and find your favorite flavor. Anyone in the tri-state area will be able to give you directions.

Dockside

My final review from our recent trip down south is for the riverside eatery, Dockside. Located on that charming River Street, it was the first of several riverside restaurants we happened upon. Since we still needed to scope out the rest of the street, we thought we'd just take note of its menu and choose between the dozen or so cafes after we'd seen the sum total.

Dockside had the lunch menu that ultimately drew us back. It had lots of sandwiches and seafood and even if one sat inside one could still enjoy the warm spring day, with the four sets of louvered doors wide open in the sunshine.

All I want to talk about is this dish:


When the server took our order, I said I'd start with an appetizer - shrimp and grits. A slow grin came over her face and she told me I wouldn't be sorry. Now that is what you want to hear when you place an order.

Oh, it was So Good.

The texture of the grits reminded me of fried mush. It was cut into a square and the outside had a crispy coating. Several good-sized shrimp topped it and a ham gravy was poured over all. That ham gravy made the whole thing. Now, I've never even heard of ham gravy, but you had better believe I will attempt to recreate it at home. I've already purchased my ham soup base with which to experiment.

I'll let you know how it goes.

P.S. I found Savannah absolutely charming. If you go, please go in April. I've never seen such azaleas!

The Lady and Sons

My daughter, Sophia, is a bonafide Foodie. She spends her money on cookbooks, asks to try new recipes and watches Food Network in her spare time. The first Food Network personality to hook her was Ms. Paula Deen, expert southern cook, lover of butter, and a Georgia native.

Her restaurant, The Lady and Sons, is on Congress St. in downtown Savannah, and we told Soph we'd give it a try. Now, friends, the word-of-mouth isn't good. I'd heard that the food was prepared without much care and that it was overpriced. But we wanted to give Miss Paula a fair shake so we checked out her website to see what hoops we'd have to jump through to get a table.

It turns out that they don't take traditional reservations. Instead, they open their hostess podium at 9:30 AM and arrange reservations for that day only. The Chupps rolled in at five past ten and were hoping for a lunch seating. Well, the line stretched to the end of the block. Mike drove around town with the kids while I waited in line. It moved quickly, but by the time I got to the hostess station, the earliest a party of five could be seated was at 8:30 PM.




When we got to the restaurant that night we had to wait in another line to check in. The hostess directed us to the Paula Deen Store next door, where she would collect us when our table was ready. It was full of the trappings one would expect at such a place: Paula Deen cookbooks and utensils, Paula Deen brand condiments and pre-packaged food, also t-shirts and aprons with sassy sayings for middle-aged, chubby home cooks to wear. We were seated on time, if not a bit early. We took an elevator to the second floor and walked past a fairly modest buffet to our table. The buffet was nearly $18 for an adult and it looked to be the cheapest thing on the menu, so that's what we all got.

We were each given a garlic biscuit and a hoe-cake to whet our appetite. I really liked the hoe-cake, eaten with syrup as suggested by our server. The buffet included fried chicken, ribs, pineapple dressing, sweet potato casserole, yams, collard greens, mashed potatoes, lima beans and green beans. There was a salad bar, but no dessert bar. Our server proudly told us that dessert came with the buffet and she brought out a tray of the choices: peach cobbler, banana puddin' and a butter cake. Between the five of us, we got to sample all three. Meh. They were OK. And the portions were small.




I was glad for the chance to try collard greens, since I never had. The mashed potatoes were good. I bet they had cream cheese in them. Everyone agreed that my fried chicken is better. But absolutely no one at our table at $18 worth of food. We weren't even tempted to eat $18 worth, because it was exactly the same meal as the truck stop in South Carolina. The one named "Restaurant." Now I'm not saying that Paula's not a good cook. Maybe she is and maybe she isn't. But I AM saying that it bums me out that that since everyone believes she's a great cook, she has let herself off the hook. Instead of making sure people get great food that keep them coming back, she makes sure you have to go through the gift shop to get seated. That is cheek, ladies and gentlemen.

I guess no one would call this review scathing or anything, but I feel a little sad posting it. I really wanted it to be better. I thought the Deen family would care more. And since they don't, it feels like I can't be friends with them.

Besides, shouldn't it have been WORTH this enthusiasm?

The Crab Shack

From the brochure on local restaurants we found The Crab Shack on nearby Tybee Island. Twenty years ago, it was the site of only a boat hoist and a bar where local fishermen came to drink and lie. Today it is equal parts tourist trap (Alligator Pond! "Gift Shack!" Feed the alligators Alligator Treats available for purchase in the Gift Shack!) and low country casual eatery.

Regardless of how successful it's gotten in the last two decades, I love that the owners didn't decide to look for greener, posher grasses. When we turned off the main highway to go to our destination, we were turning toward a couple of single-wide trailers backed up to the marshland. The real estate improved only slightly in the half mile between the highway and The Crab Shack.

The modest surroundings appeared to deter no one. We fought our way through the crowds to the hostess station ("Hostess Shack!")and were told that our party could be seated in 45 minutes. There was plenty to do during our wait. We watched the gators snooze for awhile and toured the Gift Shack. We also we able to go out over the beach on a raised pier to check out the sand crabs all over the shore and even spied a couple of rays in the shallow waters of the Savannah River.

It all caused our wait to go quickly. We were seated outside at a table made of plywood, with an 18-inch hole cut into the center so that we could toss our shells into the trashcan beneath. The plywood tables, plus the plank floors, the light fixtures made of bushel baskets and the heavy population of CATS prowling the property (including the outdoor dining room) made me feel like the would-be mistress of some legal hero in a Grisham novel. We've stolen away to this dive because it's in the next town over and no one will recognize... Oh! Excuse me! I lost my head for a moment.



Sophia and I ordered the shrimp boil, with some crab added to mine. Michael ordered the scallops. Brooks is allergic to shellfish and thinks death is sure if he comes within 12 feet of a lobster claw. We roll our eyes and ask for more clarified butter. He got a barbequed chicken sandwich with the sauce on the side, having decided that he doesn't like barbeque sauce. Ava got the kids' pizza. *sigh* I hate kids' menus.

Brooks' plan for a chicken sandwich sans spicy went adrift, however, when he mistook a bottle of cocktail sauce on the table for ketchup. After the initial moment of alarm, he recovered and enjoyed the combination of flavors. Mike liked his scallops well enough, but he thinks there can be no such thing as a poorly prepared scallop... they are such a rare treat for him.

Sophia and I both enjoyed our shrimp, time-consuming entree though they are. The challenge is to get them peeled and consumed before they get cold and less appetizing. Michael, having finished his dinner two sweet teas prior, helped Soph peel the last five or six shrimp so that she could concentrate her efforts on mastication. Now, is there another way to eat shrimp boil? Because it seems all the Old Bay is actually all over the shell, which then gets peeled off and tossed into the plywood abyss. Did we do something wrong? Is there a way to get the seasoning into our actual mouths?

This meal was a success, not just as a meal, but as our evening's entertainment. I am loving Savannah! More to come.

"Restaurant"

It's Day Four of the Chupp Family Southern Tour. The first three days included hellos and goodbyes with long-lost friends, eggs to color and hunt, and an Easter service at a genuine Southern Baptist church, where the phrases "God's wheel" and "He's alahve" were heard. Now, I'm sorry to report that those phrases were heard from a velvet seat in the narthex, between sips of a coke chivalrously purchased for me by the head usher, because I got the 12-hour flu (and got it hard) in the middle of Sunday School.

I'm certain I will post more about the culinary aspects of those first few days, but Days One through Three were also completely tech-free, so I couldn't blog about them immediately. Today, we kissed our friends goodbye squarely on the jaw and headed for our second destination: Savannah, GA. I insisted that we not use an interstate between the towns, making it a four-hour drive instead of a three, but it was well worth it. We had a lovely trip full of wisteria, Spanish moss, plantations, tumble-down shacks, precious country churches and one puzzling school board election sign for Timbo Williams, who chose a behorned cartoon devil as his campaign mascot. Whabba wha?

To add to our day of local color, our goal was to have lunch at a place unlike any eatery at home. Since we were going through only small towns, our choice was made for us using some complicated math formula involving the unappealing look of a few places, the approximate distance to the next town and our escalating hunger. The role of the skeptical and unappreciative teenager was played to his fullest by Brooks, who thought that any place of business with a name like "Restaurant" would surely not have the intelligence or creativity to be trusted with food stuffs.

Michael, on the other hand, counted the number of pick-up trucks in the parking lot and thought that they were a sure indicator of lots of meat and few vegetables. That sounded good to him. The assumption by our waitress (who called me "hon") was that we would all have the buffet, and, sure enough, it was loaded with fried chicken, fried pork chops, sausage with potatoes and the like. One regular walked in and joked with the owner that he was ready to start working on his heart attack, as he picked up his plate for his first go-through at the buffet line. There was the obligatory salad bar and for dessert, peach cobbler and banana pudding. We washed it all down with sweet tea.

I thought this was going to be a short post, but I guess it hasn't been. The writing was all the more tedious as it was done at 1:00 AM under the covers in the hotel room, with Michael taking his half of the bed from the middle, and our son talking in his sleep across the room... something like "Mwaaahma hama MY HANDS!"

Pictures and more southern food to come. G'night.

Mattern's

So my friend, Jen, and I went yesterday to a newish eatery on Main Street. It's become fashionable to eat local food and choose locally-owned restaurants to patronize. With the economic crisis deeply affecting our Midwestern county, I am spurred to support local farmers and restauranteurs for reasons other than trendiness.

Our restaurant of choice, Mattern's, took over a storefront inhabited for generations by a ladies' clothing store called Newell's. When Mattern's moved in last year, the 1970's facade came off the front of the building and actual STAINED GLASS with the Newell's name was revealed! I ask you, what heathen made the decision to cover it up in the first place?

Mattern's advertises itself first as a butcher shop. It doubles as an old-fashioned deli. It has become popular with downtown shoppers and merchants looking for a quick lunch. There is a long, vintage cold case running the length of the building, filled with lunchmeats, cheeses and custom cuts of beef, pork, chicken and fish. They sell a few basic kitchen ustensils, spices and condiments, including a line of mustards that came in EIGHT (!) different flavors, by my count, including raspberry wasabi, horseradish and chipotle, to name a few.

The owner was working behind the counter and he seemed to know me from the three times I've visited since November. (I just love small towns!) I had in mind that I'd like a liverwurst sandwich with swiss and onion. They didn't list that meat on their sandwich menu, but they had some Braunschweiger in the cold case and were happy to use some for my sandwich. It was tasty and generously proportioned. I think I would have enjoyed it more if it was toasted. I wonder if they could have toasted it for me? I didn't think to ask.

I ordered a cup of butternut squash soup as a side and it was the winner of meal. The squash was pureed silkily and included some chunky ingredients like sausage, corn and wild rice. Nom, nom, nom. I finished with a slice of homemade coconut pie, which was delicious.

I suppose I paid more here than I might have at another location, but at businesses such as these I always remind myself that we are not comparing apples to apples. Would the manager at McDonalds have known me from past visits? Would there be sweet vintage furnishings? Would Ronald aim to please me with an off-menu item? Ah, no. I considered it money well spent. Go check it out!