Brats



DePere Riverfest brat captured with my new Wisconsin camera



When I was a kid we'd pack up the station wagon for our family trips, usually to Florida for Marietta College spring baseball, or to wherever the Buckeyes were playing in a college bowl.  Inevitably, mom would run back to the house multiple times for something she had forgotten (or we had forgotten) and dad would say "Saylor, (he called my mom by her maiden name), get in the damn car! If we don't have it we'll buy it!" 

I have always loved that attitude and can say with certainty that I inherited it - much to my husband's dismay.  I jetted off on my honeymoon with a couple bathing suits and a toothbrush, and upon purchase of an airport camera ($$$) he concluded that this would be a costly inheritance.  Lucky for me, he adored my dad and can't begin to argue his philosophy.  And now I have another new camera, from Wisconsin.

My dad didn't much care for "stuff" but he, like me, thoroughly enjoyed his food.  I learned from him that eating outside is better than in.  That you should never eat at a chain when you travel.  That eating slow will make it last longer.  That some of the best eats are found in that dive on the wrong end of town. And that all you really need to do is ask a local...a REAL local, not the one working at the hotel.

Oh, and one other thing.  With festivals come food, and that's a great combination.

I spyed the DePere Riverfest in the Appleton newspaper and had a few hours to kill before the baseball game. So I GPS'd the scenic route, another dad thing, and headed north toward Green Bay.  My dad was never in a hurry.

The festival was situated in a beautiful waterfront park alongside a charming town and there were beer trailers everywhere!  What goes best with beer?  Brats, of course.  And there were plenty of them.  Mine (above) was the perfect brat, I'm sure of it.  I don't know how I do it, but if you tell them "the blacker the better" and "point me to the kraut", you could probably do it too.  Perfectly charred with a first bite "pop" followed by juicy goodness. It was so good and with proceeds benefting local veterans that I had to take one back to the hotel for coach.  I doctored it up and twisted it inside an empty hotdog bun bag.  The steam effect on the bun made his just a bit better than mine. 

Harmony

Ah, the beauty of food.  I do love it.  It is artful, comforting, romantic, deceptive, delicate, delicious....and at the same time completely necessary.  What a beautiful thing.  I'm not sure why it intrigues me so but I could spend hours with a stack of cookbooks (assuming there are photos included) imagining what platters and bowls I will use to display the artwork I will prepare.  I've decided, as I enter my second trimester of pregnancy, that I love food now more than ever (except that I cannot pair it with a bottle of wine). 

And so, I've decided to share The Good Life as I see it...to be eaten :)

Appleton Wisconsin is not like I might have imagined (if I had taken the time to imagine it).  It is eclectic and commercial, bustling and a bit laid back, easy to navigate but complex in a way. My first visit there was as the girlfriend of a baseball coach that led the Marietta College Pioneers to a Division III College Championship. The guys came home in 2011 with giant flashly rings not yet knowing they'd be back in just under a year to defend their title. 

Consecutive appearances in the final game of the College World Series is not likley, but let me tell you....these are no regular kids. So, my second visit to Appleton was as the pregnant wife of that said baseball coach (pretty good year) to watch the Etta Express make history with a second consecutive national title.

Being the coach's wife means I take in more than my share of brats, peanuts, and founatin pop.  It means I am subject to (and often the subject of) various odd superstitions on gameday.  It means that I have another family...specifically one that is mostly hungry and sweaty.  It means that during BP (batting practice), scouting reports, coach's interviews, and team meetings I have a lot of time on my hands to explore....which I love to do.

Exploration for me usually means a morning walk (to help with the bratwurst problem), a little culture (usually not more than taking in a local historic landmark), the hunt for TJ Maxx, and the never ending quest for good eats!

Blueberry Crumb Bar with a side of Mocha Harmony

Our championship hotel was situated in what I would call downtown, adjacent to the campus of Lawrence University.  I do not know much about Lawrence but it oozes of the liberal arts.  There is an overall feeling of theater, lierature, music, and philosophy on campus.  Coffee shops, unique boutiques, young hippie parents, and alternative bars surrounded our hotel on College Avenue. 

As I made my way down the street one early morning on the hunt for a creamy sweet steaming cup of caffeine, I happened upon the Harmony Cafe.  It was the only thing open at that hour on this particular street and I knew when I walked in that it was just what the doctor ordered.  A colorful hand written chalk board announcing Mocha caught my eye and as I approached the counter to order I laid eyes on the Blueberry Crumb Bar (I'm a sucker for anything that says "crumb" in the title....which to me simply means butter and sugar).  The electronic blinking "order up" device made Harmony's old school charm come of age in a complementary way.  The bar was delciously simple - just right for an early morning with lots of eating yet to do. 

And so, I started my Appleton food journey with great pleasure at a streetside table with blue-mocha and the Post Crescent.  It had only just begun....

Abby's Fricasse de Pollo

Abby's Fricase de Pollo

Brian's grandmother "Abby" (short for Abuela) must've been quite the cook because our travels always include the hunt for authentic Puerto Rican food "like she used to make".  I've never seen him happier than in front of a plate of tres leches cake.  His Aunt Holly gave me one of Abby's hand written recipes - a tomatoey chicken dish that you can find simmering on my stove all afternoon about once a month.   

It's the time that makes simple Puerto Rican ingredients taste so complex, and the meat….oh, so tender.  I suspect that in Puerto Rican culture, enjoying the food takes almost as much time as preparing the food.  If my mother-in-law's house is any indication, there are hours spent ‘round the dining room table on every visit.  Even when we're not eating, it's the place where everyone gathers to chat, gossip, plan the day, or plan the next meal.  

The table is a comfortable place for us and one that has clearly been part of my husband's upbringing.  He, unlike most men I know, believes that the couch is no place to have a meal (though he doesn't mind the TV being placed so that he can see it from the dining table).    

Fricase Just Before a Long Tomato Bath

Brian's house rule for eating only at the table was a tough pill to swallow for Jesse and me, but it has been a blessing in more ways than we know.  There are so many things that I love about our life, but perhaps my favorite thing is the time we spend together at the table.  

Sweet Harvest Time

July 2011

Ahhh summer in Marietta!  A friend from Alaska recently emailed to ask about the onset of summer way back east in the Ohio Valley.  Is it hot? What’s in bloom? When does the sun set?  And it got me thinking about how much I do love this time of year.  It’s wet, I told him.  The air is wet, my hair is wet, and every chance I get I feel the cool wet water of the Muskingum River as I fly off an old barge rope tied to a hundred year old tree.  The heat is well worth it, I added.  The hot days and long nights make cold beer taste very good on the patios of our watering holes and back yards.  And speaking of back yards, the cool water smell that comes from my garden hose blends perfectly with the aroma of fresh basil and tomato plants.  I explain that surely the valley heat & humidity lend flavor and size to the fresh fruit and veggies that seem to multiply each week at the Farmers Market. 

I was a bit jealous to hear that the morels are just arriving in his part of the world, as ours are long gone.  But with the end of morel season comes a little green tomato - and then it’s just a matter of time before that sweet red juice drips off every sandwich I design.  The thought of tomatoes fills my head with the Guy Clark tune “Home Grown Tomatoes”, and I can almost smell the spicy Roma sauce that Meg & Ma Habel spend hours stirring in a sweltering kitchen atop Harmar Hill.  “There’s only two things that money can’t buy – and that’s true love and homegrown tomatoes”. 

By this time we’ve been through three jars of Grandma’s Strawberry jam that mom and I hand mash and boil to perfection, topped with paraffin and sealed tight to last all year.  And then there’s the sweet corn…you won’t find that in Alaska.  What’s better than celebrating corn harvest with truck loads of corn on the town’s main street? “A corn festival?” he asked.  “No” I said, “A SWEET corn festival”.  Boiled, buttered, salted…ohhhh, and that pop!  I must have a dozen pictures of my son with sweet cream butter rolling down his arms and a wide summer smile.  I’m not sure I appreciated all of these things until recent years but now as I think about my Alaskan friend (who’s never been east of Colorado), I think he must not be complete. 

I do believe the wildness of the west is an amazing thing. I sometimes envy the life he leads as a wildlife guide, and continue to be amazed by his photos of grizzlies and snow white foxes that wander into camp.  But, for now I will soak up the Ohio sunshine and tend to my maters, patiently waiting for that perfect sweet corn pop.  Oh, how I wish I cold send him a sweet ear of corn and a juicy B.L.T.!

Come celebrate our summer harvest at this year’s Marietta Sweetcorn Festival – July 16 & 17.  Maybe the Mayor will play that famous Guy Clark song if you ask real nice…

It's true, when you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with....you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible :)

Been house hunting the last few weeks and I'm seriously weighing the pros & cons of "move in ready" vs. "fixer-upper". Haven't fallen in love with a place yet and I just wonder if it has to have my touch to love it??

my favorite hat

“You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.”
-Woodrow Wilson

I sent brother Duke this quote on what happened to be a particularly frustrating day at the office and asked of him, “Where are the poetic leaders of our day?” To which he responded...

“Oh we are here...we are just called to other less public endeavors. We still choose fewer words to accomplish greater tasks, but we don't hang our hat on them at the end of the day. Because of course...it's our favorite hat”.
-John A. Wharff III

It now hangs on the wall in my office alongside quotes from the likes of Thoreau, Les Wexner, and Mark Bradley...Thank god for brothers.