the road | the food | a new direction
Upstate New Yorkers love their fish fry, especially on Fridays when every restaurant of every type, from diner to tavern, Chinese restaurant to Indian buffet, offers up some version of fried fish and potatoes. Given the local love it’s a little surprising that there aren’t more restaurants around here that specialize in the fish fry. Perhaps it’s that very ubiquity which makes the fish fry specialist so unnecessary. One exception is Doug’s Fish Fry.
We ordinarily restrict ourselves to the liquid refreshments at brewpubs. It’s not that we think brewpub food is bad, per se, it’s just that there’s usually more interesting things to eat elsewhere. We’re glad to have broken free from our usual habit at Buck Hill, however, as we were afforded the opportunity to indulge ourselves with the Fat Buck Fries. This poutine cousin tops fries with beer-braised brisket, cheddar and mozzarella, and beer gravy. Not only does it supply you with your minimum daily requirements for calories for the day, it’s also dizzily delicious.
Signs of life in downtown Utica! Craylee’s, just down the street from the old Hotel Utica (now a Doubletree) has been open for three years, serving breakfast and lunch till 2PM everyday except Monday. Breakfast at Craylee’s is a Utica highlight, especially on Sundays when the off-the-menu fried dough is offered. We tried to nab a serving but, damn, they’d just run out. Almost every other table had a basket of these sugared, roughly hewn doughnut cognates; we were tempted to beg sweetly from a neighbor but thought better of it.
We love church suppers and we love enduring culinary traditions, but the annual autumn dinner hosted by the Carversville United Church of Christ, in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, is in another category altogether. This year marked the 148th edition of the oyster and pork feast. They missed a year for various reasons here or there over the centuries (a church fire, a pastor who didn’t like the tradition), so we’re not certain of the date of that first church dinner but our quick math puts it soon after the Civil War. How’s that for enduring!
“Which way EJ?” That’s the question, perhaps apocryphal, Italian immigrants were said to have asked when they arrived at Ellis Island in the early 20th century. Word in Italy was that there was work to be found in Endicott, NY at Endicott-Johnson, the shoe manufacturer. By the start of the new millennium the company was gone but Little Italy, on the north side of Endicott, remains.
When you’re in Smithfield, Virginia you’re in the heart of ham and peanut country. Sure, times have changed, as they always do – the giant pork processor in town, Smithfield Foods, is now Chinese-owned, and the last Smithfield ham smokehouse in town was shut down last year. Hogs no longer graze on harvested peanut fields to fatten up, but the law still requires the hams to be produced, and smoked, within the town limits to be called Genuine Smithfield Hams. (What Smithfield Foods plans to do is still up in the air; they have a large backlog of aging Smithfield hams available to carry them for a while.) Continue reading
We’re keeping our fingers crossed. Restaurants like this rarely open in our neck of the woods, and even more rarely do they stay open very long. Yet 12 Farms, the farm-to-table eatery in Hightstown, has been up and running for over four years and, as far as we can tell, is thriving. Yippee! Continue reading
Ice Cream on Grand is one unique ice cream shop. All the ice cream is homemade, using fresh fruits and quality ingredients, but it has none of that preciosity you find in those urban ice cream sanctuaries found in city neighborhoods populated by 20-somethings. There are crowd-pleasing flavors and colors, like at Baskin-Robbins, but unlike BR, this ice cream is really, really good. Continue reading
We’d heard good things about the ice cream at Buttonwood Farm, but it was a dreary, drizzly evening as we motored through the rural Connecticut countryside. Surely we’d be their only customers when we arrived, if they were even still open. Perhaps on this most uninviting day for ice cream they decided to close up early. Turning in to Buttonwood from the country road, we were astonished to see an ice cream stand and parking lot bustling with activity. What were they all here for? Was there some sort of event we were unaware of? Continue reading
Kohr’s Frozen Custard, The Original… Kohr’s Frozen Custard Inc. … The Original Kohr Bros. Frozen Custard … those are just three of the many Kohr’s custard stands you’ll find up and down the east coast, mostly along boardwalks in New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia. Are they the same company? Are they related in some way? Continue reading
Pizza, cheesesteaks, frozen custard, Italian sausage sandwiches – that’s been our Jersey boardwalk menu for as long as we can remember. And that menu has served us well. Today, however, the honor roll will have to make room for a fifth member of the fat and salt brigade. The pork roll, egg, and cheese sandwich at Jersey Roll, towards the north end of the Seaside Heights boardwalk, is not only worth saving precious boardwalk stomach real estate for, but can compete with any in the Garden State. Continue reading
Even if you’re not a tea drinker, we urge you to step inside Churchill’s Fine Teas in Cincinnati’s Findlay Market, for at least a moment or two. The heady aroma of tea leaves, spices, and herbs is fairly intoxicating, and the shop is an oasis of calm amid the bustle of the market. Look around, admire the tea sets and tea cups, all the while inhaling, inhaling, free of charge. Continue reading
Cincinnati has a number of signature foods, but perhaps the most exotic and regionally focused of them is goetta. First things first: it’s pronounced as if the o wasn’t there, i.e., getta, and it has German roots. OK, so what is this goetta? It’s a sausage-like loaf of meat and oats that is sliced and fried in a pan, usually for breakfast. Continue reading
Think of a Southern state known for fried chicken. Yep, we thought of Kentucky as well, for the same wrong reason. Truth is, Kentucky DOES have excellent fried bird, despite the stuff that sends the good Colonel spinning six feet under. Want first-hand proof? Come to Fort Mitchell on a Monday or Tuesday for family style fried chicken dinner as served by the Greyhound Tavern. Continue reading
We sat next to a family who drove in from Kansas City, only to see their beloved Royals take a 17 – 0 drubbing from the hometown Twins. Why, at the end of the second inning it was already 10 – 0. The kids were devastated. Dad was working overtime giving them a Philosophy of Baseball lesson, there’s always tomorrow, on any given day any team… something that’s instilled in Mets fans like ourselves at birth. What do Americans do when the going gets tough? Eat! They couldn’t have been in a better place for that. Hope Mom & Dad have well-paying jobs. Continue reading
Bridgeman’s roots go back to 1883, when Henry Bridgeman sold fresh milk door-to-door in Duluth. His sons, Chester and Roy, went into the ice cream business 53 years later. Over the next 81 years, Bridgeman’s became a familiar name around Minnesota. There was a time when you could count on getting Bridgeman’s ice cream at your local drug store counter and, later in its history, stop in for malts at one of the many Bridgeman’s stand-alone ice cream shops. Continue reading
Everyone in the restaurant business these days has an angle – you know, artisan pizza, or 23 ways with mac and cheese, or Korean/Spanish fusion. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se, but it ends up being all about the food or the novelty. There’s no soul, unless it’s in the food itself, which is very often quite good. We happen to be partial to restaurants with a history, cafes that grew up with the communities they serve. Enter Wilbert Cafe. Continue reading
After 15 years of earning his culinary bona fides downtown in the deli that showcases his incomparable smoked fish and meats, Eric Goerdt, with his wife Lynn, felt it was time to sit at the grownups table. The result is Northern Waters Restaurant, up in the Chester Park neighborhood close to the University of Minnesota Duluth. Continue reading
Sometimes it’s the dog, other times it’s the garnishment. Garlicky, snappy-casing New York City franks are so good they need no adornment. Midwest coneys, however, are all about the package in toto: the franks themselves are rarely anything special, nor do they need to be. Success depends on how the dog, bun, meat sauce, mustard, raw, chopped onions, and, maybe, shredded cheese work together. It’d be pointless to order a coney with, say, just mustard. Continue reading
Walk along the Lake Superior waterfront in Duluth and you’ll inevitably find yourself glancing up at the hills to the north. You can’t help but notice, at the very top of one of the hills, silhouetted against the bright sky, what looks to be some sort of stone tower. What is that? What’s the story behind it? And therein lies half the makings of a perfect Duluth afternoon. Continue reading
© 2024 Left at the Fork
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑