Fiesta de Las Golondrinas

Close up view of the swallows nests

In 1776, while the English colonists were throwing down with the British in the east, Spain was having its way with the Acjachemen band of native Americans in the west, founding a mission in the place now known as San Juan Capistrano, California. San Juan Capistrano was the 7th mission founded in Alta California, and boasts the oldest structure still in use in California (the Serra Chapel). When the stone church was built (a departure from the adobe used in the other mission churches) it was one of the tallest structures in California, making its high walls an attractive substitute for the cliffs where the Cliff Swallows (Petrochelidon pyrrhonota) had built their homes for milennia. The swallows built their mud nests at the mission, flying off to the western coast of South America in the winter, returning again in the spring to procreate.

Ruins of the old stone church

The mission inhabitants noted that the swallows “miraculously” returned to the mission on the Catholic feast day of Saint Joseph (March 19) each year, giving the event divine significance. Not being naturalists, they failed to realize that the reason the pagan feather dusters returned on March 19 was not because of Saint Joesph, but because of the vernal equinox – spring. Yes, spring, when thoughts of procreation filled their pointy little heads. Swallows reuse their nests year after year (not surprising knowing the amount of time it takes to make them, one beakful of mud at a time), so returning to the mission or any tall cliff-like structure where they had previously built their dream home is a foregone conclusion. The odd fact is that the individual bird does not reuse the same nest; the colony shares the nests, and it’s first-come, first-served. Their aerial dance when choosing their nests is a sight to behold; solo pilots drop out of the swirling cloud to claim the choice real estate.

In the 1930s, the Swallows Day Parade evolved from a school festival (Fiesta de Las Golondrinas, or Festival of the Swallows) to the celebration it is today. The parade winds past the front of the mission, and normally features floats, equestrian riders and marchers that celebrate the mission’s Spanish and Native American heritage, and the return of the swallows. There are tents and booths set up inside the mission, with music, food and celebration – about the only thing missing is the swallows. Right about now, you’re asking, “What’s the deal with a parade and festival celebrating the return of the swallows without, um… swallows”. Good question. Well for starters, why ruin a damned fine party just because the guest of honor doesn’t show up? Where else are you going to see someone standing on the shoulders of a marching bull while doing rope tricks? You know you want that fresh native food they’re cooking inside! So go to the parade and fiesta and I’ll share a little secret with you.

Just plain nuts (so is the vaquero)

Around the turn of this century, work needed to be done on the mission to ensure it met earthquake resistant standards. During this process, the mud nests had to be removed from the tops of the mission buildings, and I think you and I both know “removed” means “destroyed”. So what’s the problem? The birds will come back, build new nests, and everyone goes home happy, right? When you get off the plane after a 6-month trip south to find your neighborhood gone, you think twice about rebuilding, so they simply went elsewhere. The mission tried all kinds of ideas to get them to come back, such as mounting ceramic nests, but to the swallows these were the equivalent of FEMA trailers. So here’s where I share my secret: go to the festival, have fun, and before sunset get in the car and take a short drive over to Saddleback College. Head over to the Technology and Applied Science building and park your lawn chair by the arched tower at the entrance, for this is one of the locations the colony now calls home. You can see the swallows here all spring, but the show they put on as they descend in a mass of moving feathers to claim their nests on their return is breathtaking. You can still see the world famous return of the swallows, and just for fun, bring something from El Pollo Loco to munch on…

Mission San Juan Capistrano
26801 Ortega Highway
San Juan Capistrano, CA 92675
GPS coordinates: 33°30′7.20″N 117°39′45.85″W

Saddleback College
Technology and Applied Science Building
28000 Marguerite Parkway
(College Drive East)
Mission Viejo, CA 92692-3699
GPS coordinates: 33°33′18.65″N 117°39′45.12″W

See more images from Fiesta de Las Golondrinas and the swallows at Saddleback College

Glass Beach

People scavenge for glass on Glass Beach

There are some places on earth that blur the distinction of what is natural and what is man-made; other places where mankind’s disregard for the environment results in the creation of a place of unusual beauty, where one man’s trash truly becomes another man’s treasure. One such place is Glass Beach, in California’s Mendocino County. In the 1940s, residents used this small stretch of shoreline as a dump, a practice unimaginable today. Household items were discarded into the sea, from bottles and dishes all the way up to old cars. In the 1960s, the dumping was stopped and the state closed the dump, making efforts to remove what large waste items they could – nature took care of the rest. Over the years, the surf rolled and pounded the trash against the rocks and tumbled them in the sand until there was not much more than pebble-sized items left. Since a great deal of the trash was glass, it is the primary component of the pebbles that cover the entire beach, giving the beach its recent name.

Stone and colored glass co-mingle on the shore

Remarkably, the ecosystem has rebounded and the sea life has put to use the larger objects that did not break down, much in the manner of artificial reefs. The high surf and proliferation of rocks makes underwater exploration difficult and dangerous, but the main draw is the beach itself. A thick layer of the glass pebbles intermingles with sand and stones, tiny pieces of pottery, metal, wood and various other substances worn down to objects of beauty. Since so much of the beach is glass, the sun shines through the wet beads, lighting the shore with a wide variety of colors. There aren’t too many pieces of jagged material left, but occasionally larger objects will break up when they hit the beach, so caution still must be exercised. Collecting is not officially permitted, although officials tend to “look the other way” as it brings tourism to the tiny seaside community.

Some of the color created by water, sun and glass

If you decide to visit Glass Beach, bring some decent footwear – although the beach isn’t very dangerous, you will need to maneuver down small hills to get to the beach, big rocks abound near the water’s edge, and walking through the pebble-strewn beach can be difficult in bare feet. While in town, consider a ride on the historic Skunk Train, originally established in the 1880s as a logging rail line between Fort Bragg and Willits, but now a passenger train using engines from the 1920s. As you take in the unnatural beauty of the beach, try not to disturb the local sea life, and if you feel compelled to take some of the beach home with you, you may want to consider using a container made of something besides glass.

Glass Beach
901 Glass Beach Dr.
Fort Bragg, CA 95437
GPS Coordinates: 39°27′9.77″N 123°48′47.52″W

The Skunk Train
100 W Laurel St.
Fort Bragg, CA 95437
GPS Coordinates: 39°26′43.61″N 123°48′24.91″W

Machine Project, Los Angeles, California

Cooking the wriggling superworms

Miriam-Webster’s Dictionary defines a worm as “any of numerous relatively small elongated usually naked and soft-bodied animals (as a grub, pinworm, tapeworm, shipworm, or slowworm)”. In my mind, I picture the night crawlers I used to get to go fishing in Barton Creek, but since the term applies to the shape of these invertebrates, it also covers the creepy crawly larval stage of beetles, butterflies and moths. When I heard that Machine Project (a storefront space that experiments in technology, science, and the arts) was holding an event entitled “Eat Bug Eat”, I was intrigued. Although it sounds like the title of a Japanese monster movie, the event was held to educate people in the culture and custom of eating insects. Although I’d eaten insects many times before, from the crunchy snack-like hormigas culonas to the grassy-tasting silkworm pupae, I succumbed to the come-hither of wax moth larvae tacos.

Machine Project in L.A., host of Eat Bug Eat

The space is well lit and sparse, a good place for shows, events and installations. Several tables were topped with insect displays, a two-burner hotplate, a food preparation area, insect “farms” and bowls of glistening mead. For those who aren’t familiar with mead, it is an alcoholic beverage made with honey (sometimes leaning towards wine, other times towards beer). The event featured Chaucer’s and Rabbit’s Foot mead, both light and white wine flavored, but close enough to being an insect product to be an acceptable beverage for the event. In various plastic tubs and steel bowls were the evening’s appetizers and entrees – live, wriggling insect larvae. There were three kinds of worms on the menu: mealworms (the larval stage of the mealworm beetle), superworms (darkling beetle larvae) and the larvae form of the Greater Wax Moth. Some bowls of the fried worms were prepared earlier to munch on while waiting on the tacos, but one of the folks staging the event demonstrated the preparation. This involved simply pouring the writhing insects into frying pans with a little oil, and let me tell you, like me and just about any other life form I can think of they do not like to be cooked. The chef explained that they die rather quickly, but the heat applied to their bodies flexes them, which makes it look like they’re still moving around. Although a few diners felt that this was somewhat cruel, the thought of what happens to a cow or pig when it gets butchered made this look like a mercy killing. There were also some locally made chapulines on hand, but they weren’t made on the premises.

Tearing into a worm-filled taco

While waiting on the tacos, some of the patrons decided to try the critters live; some did so on a dare, but others like the woman who goes by the name Aurora (a self-confessed insectivore and sideshow performer) ate the little wigglers with gusto. Patron Matt Hartwell also tried several handfuls of the live insects, but preferred the wax moth larvae to the superworm. Never having intentionally eaten live insects I had to give it a go, and I came to the following conclusion: the quality of experience is drastically improved with frying. I don’t say this from a taste standpoint; the children of the wax moth have a buttery, nutty flavor that is diminished with cooking, but because these insects wear their skeletons on the outside, it is equivalent to the difference between eating fried and boiled shrimp. Frying crisps the “shell”, making the worm easier to eat, but when eaten live they require considerable chewing. The tacos were made with fresh ingredients and handmade tortillas, but somehow the assembled thing buried the taste of the fried bugs. Most of the attendees resorted to snacking on the fried worms right out of the bowl, making them a great happy hour bar snack. I enjoyed the superworms fried – the taste was reminiscent of smoky chicharrón. The flavor of the fried wax moth larvae almost reminded me of French’s Potato Sticks, and it occurred to me that these would be a great high protein substitute for bacon bits on a baked potato.

After a few hours the guests began fluttering out into the night, and I was tempted to ask for a doggie bag, but I imagine the fried worms don’t have much of a shelf life. There’s not much to the preparation and the insects are easy to get online – in no time you can have yourself a worm ranch, providing you with a steady supply of protein. I wonder how small they make saddles…

San Diego Wax Worms
Mason Rd
Vista, Ca 92084
(you can get mealworms and superworms at larger pet stores)

Machine Project
1200 North Alvarado Street
Los Angeles, CA 90026-3127
GPS coordinates: 34°4′41.59″N 118°15′46.50″W

See more images of Val’s insect adventure at Machine Project in Los Angeles
Val attends a bug eating event at Machine Project in L.A.:

United States, Great Britain and Asia

Coffee jello at Durgin Park in Boston

Oh, poor misunderstood gelatin! Anything resembling gelatin has been given the name “jello” by Americans (“jelly” by the British), although Jell-O is actually a trademark of one brand of commercially available gelatin. Gelatin in its pure form is clear and practically tasteless; it is typically manufactured by boiling down the bones, connective tissues, organs and the hides of cattle, pigs and/or horses in order to extract the collagen (sounds tasty, doesn’t it?). Surely you remember as a kid when mom boiled that ham for a New England boiled dinner, popping the remains into the fridge – when that door swung open the next day, voila! – gelatin. Serving just the gelatin became popular way back in the late 1800s, although it required the aforementioned cooking down process or buying dried gelatin sheets and purifying and reconstituting them, which quite frankly was a pain in the gluteus maximus. Commercially available powdered gelatin made dessert preparation easier because of two men – Peter Cooper who patented the process of powdering gelatin, and Charles Knox who created and marketed a pre-granulated gelatin. Pearle Wait (who bought Peter Cooper’s patent) added flavoring to the powdered gelatin in 1897 and began marketing it as Jell-O; Knox became known for his unflavored variety. To this day Jell-O (which was manufactured by General Foods) and Knox are both Kraft Foods brands, with Jell-O so popular that the governor of Utah declared it to be the state snack (take that, Illinois, with your stinkin’ popcorn).

Cold or hot, you cannot beat coffee

Gelatin on its own hardly seems like a trippy food (at least to Americans and the British), but ingenuity has taken this simple food to a whole new level. Boston’s Durgin Park has been operating as a restaurant since the 1830s (named by John Durgin and Eldridge Park who bought it in 1827). Through the 1980s the restaurant had the reputation of being rude to the customers, which customers assumed was a gimmick much like Ed Debevic’s in Chicago or Dick’s Last Resort, but when I remarked to the waitress that she was actually quite polite, she stated that the former wait staff were “just plain grouchy”. The story goes that sometime during mid-1900s, frugal proprietor James Hallett got tired of seeing the day’s coffee being poured down the drain and hit upon the idea of creating a desert from it, namely “coffee jello.” The desert is served topped with real whipped cream, which adds just the right amount of sweetness (the gelatin and coffee combination is unsweetened). The coffee component tastes homemade using a good quality brew, and the black, shiny cubes topped with the frothy, white whipped cream makes it a sight to behold.

Jellied eel - yummy!

Jellied eels are a British specialty that dates back to 1700s London. Freshwater eels (traditionally right out of the Thames) are boiled with nutmeg, lemon juice and diced vegetables like onions and carrots, then cooled creating a gelatin in the same manner as with the pork or beef variety with the cooking process releasing the collagen. The cooked eels have a similar consistency and taste to herring (perhaps a bit firmer) with tiny brittle bones like sardines. Jellied eels are generally available at pie and mash shops in London’s East End, but I tried them at a small alleyway stand in Greenwich. The eel was served cold and delicious, requiring some deft tongue work (one of my hidden talents) to work the flesh off the bones. As long as I was there, I had a small cup of whelks with vinegar, which were chewy but flavorful, and pie (meat) and mash. I won’t spend much time on them since the article is about gelatin, and quite frankly the pie and mash were substandard; a fellow patron stated that the flat, soggy and chewy pie tasted like it was frozen and then microwaved. I’ll have proper pie and mash on my next visit to London.

A hand made gelatin flower

The recently popular trend of artistic gelatin is producing deserts that look like flowers in Lucite but are completely edible. The Wilton School offers classes specific to this culinary art, which requires patience, concentration, and a variety of syringes, with the output almost too beautiful to eat. A friend has started producing these, bringing one to a recent party. The dish is a treat for multiple senses, especially since the multiple colors used have different complementary flavors that blend together perfectly. At the aforementioned party, we asked her to serve it for us as none of us wanted to be responsible for ruining her masterpiece.

Grass jelly is a special Asian treat that is included here even though it is not technically gelatin. It is traditionally made by boiling stalks of the mesona chinensis plant (a variety of mint, also called xiancao, sian-chháu, or leung fan cao) with potassium carbonate and some starch and then refrigerating. The result looks like a lighter version of Durgin Park’s coffee jello, with a refreshing taste similar to an unsweetened mint tea. It is sometimes served as a gelatinous drink by itself or mixed with soy or evaporated milk, although for me it makes a nice dessert after cramming my bowl filled with whatever is available at the local Mongolian BBQ.

The next time Aunt Millie brings out the Jell-O mold with embalmed fruit bits suspended in it, explain to her how gelatin is made and it may get you a bye at having to eat it. Just don’t expect a nice knitted tie at Christmas…

Durgin Park
340 Faneuil Hall Marketplace
Boston, MA 02109
GPS coordinates: 42°21′37.38″N 71°3′18.57″W

G. Kelly’s Eel and Pie
526 Roman Road
Bow, London, UK E3 5ES
GPS coordinates: 51°31′57.48″N 0°1′48.65″W

See images of Val eating gelatin-based foods

Monarch Day

No expense spared to herald Monarch Day

Europe has its crowned heads, and North America has is own monarchs – the Monarch butterfly. Probably the most recognizable butterfly in North America (or at least a close tie with the yellow and black tiger swallowtail), the Monarch’s reign ranges from the southernmost parts of Canada in the summer to Mexico. Unlike other American butterflies that can survive the cold weather, the Monarch migrates south to Mexico and in the west congregates north through California along the coast. One particular vacation paradise for the Monarchs is the Pismo Beach Monarch Grove, located in a thick stand of eucalyptus at the south end of the North Beach Campground. The Monarchs begin arriving in October, and the height of their population is at the beginning of February, prompting February 5th to be declared Monarch Day by the California State Legislature (California Western Monarch Day Bill/SCR 66).

Tens of thousands of butterflies cover the trees

Although the Monarchs can be seen in the grove throughout the winter, Monarch Day is somewhat of a celebration at the grove, if only on a small scale. The event gets news coverage, and several activities are planned (usually targeted at the youngins), but it also draws naturalists, photographers and others who want to see the mass clusters of the beautiful winged creatures at their peak. Towards the end of February, the Monarchs begin heading north in search of their trippy food of choice, milkweed. The milkweed and Monarch butterfly have a unique relationship – the toxic plant is avoided by other fauna and flutterers, but actually provides a defense mechanism for the Monarch since the toxin stays in their bodies and makes them an unattractive meal to birds (much like the McRib sandwich).

A male and female Monarch do the wild thing

If Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” made you nervous, you may want to stay near the entrance to the grove, as they will land on you and any other semi-solid object they can find. If this disturbs you, resist the urge to snuff out its fragile little existence as it is highly discouraged and since they are a protected species, getting booted out of the grove may be the least of your worries. It requires a conscious effort to avoid trampling them, but if being surrounded by an orange and black-winged cloud of feather light pilots sounds like your idea of fun, it is well worth it. The City of Pismo Beach goes all out, decorating their “World’s Largest Clam” (at a modest 7 or so feet tall) with the Monarch butterfly’s signature black and orange striped pattern. The city actually has two “World’s Largest Clams”, one at the entrance to the city and the other next to the Chamber of Commerce, a Trippy Food trippy destination on its own. Pack up the family and make a day of it, checking out downtown and the pier, the beach and the dunes but a word of advice if you bring the kids – you may have to tell little Timmy that the butterflies aren’t fighting. How you explain the insect love-fest is up to you.

Largest clam dressed up for Monarch Day

Pismo Beach Monarch Grove
State of California, North Beach Campground
Highway 1
Pismo Beach, CA 93449
GPS coordinates: 35°7′44.13″N 120°37′57.70″W

See more images of the Pismo Beach Monarch Grove on Monarch Day

A quick history of Sandy the sandhill crane

In the race to build the superlative beast, it appears that the contest for world’s largest sandhill crane is down to a field of one. The 40-foot tall sheet metal avian (“Sandy”)  stands watching for tasty cars passing by on Interstate 94 (North Dakota’s big beast highway) in Steele, North Dakota. Easily visible from the highway, Sandy seems to have nested in an unlikely location. Unlike the fanfare for her bovine and bison counterparts, there are no billboards or gated parks that indicate her home. Sandy stands at the end of the giant gravel parking lot of the Lone Steer Motel Restaurant and Lounge, a place that would look at home in one of those movies where the car breaks down and you have to spend a creepy night. Sandy’s grassy plot is not conspicuously marked – there’s no entrance booth or path, just a couple of wooden kiosks describing the life and migratory habits of the sandhill crane. The park is populated with local plants, bushes and trees that were donated or purchased through a grant from the North Dakota Forestry Department.

I would be a quick snack for a real crane of this size

Sandy is relatively young – she was built by James Miller of Arena, North Dakota between 1998 and 1989 in a shop where he does ironwork. The crane looks like a crane was required to assemble her – she (he?) was built in sections (head and neck, body and legs) and then welded together and placed on a flatbed. Sandy appears to have a strong secure foothold, an important feature for a top-heavy 4 1/2 ton metal sculpture. She is accurately painted, a fine representative of her species. Although much smaller than Sandy, sandhill cranes can attain a height of 4 feet with a wingspan of almost 7 feet, and live to the ripe old age of 25. Cranes have evolved very little over millions of years – they are the oldest birds identified from fossil records.

Sandy stands at an approximately even distance to the world’s largest buffalo in Jamestown to the east and Salem Sue, world’s largest cow to the west in New Salem. You can spend the better part of the day driving across North Dakota to see the beasts in the land of the giants, ending the adventure on the Enchanted Highway, a stretch of road populated with huge metal sculptures. They say everything’s bigger in Texas, but it’s obvious that North Dakota puts the burden of proof on the Lone Star State. C’mon guys – you have some catching up to do.

World’s Largest Sandhill Crane
615 Mitchell Avenue North
Steele, ND 58482
GPS Coordinates: 46°51′41.96″N 99°54′47.43″W

Mon Land Hot Pot City, San Gabriel, CA

Fresh rooster testicles

Although I’ve never seen a rooster strutting around the barnyard “balls-out”, I was surprised to learn that they actually have testicles. As a food adventurer, it occurred to me that after having had just about every part of the chicken, I was missing out on this delicacy. Desperate to find them locally, I turned to friend, writer and fellow blogger Eddie Lin who had the balls to suggest Mon Land Hot Pot City in San Gabriel, California (and no, this is not the last of the puns). I enlisted Josh (Trippy Food’s webmaster and usual partner in crime), as well as a few friends to join me in San Gabriel for a sack lunch (I warned you).

Mon Land Hot Pot City - we sat outside

Since it was a warm, sunny day we opted for the patio and were seated at a table with a stone top, a circular opening neatly cut into it (reminding me of a Korean BBQ). Instead of the familiar grill, our waitress placed a heating unit under the table and into the hole a huge metal bowl partitioned in the middle in the “ying/yang” style of Yunnan Province. One side was filled with a milky, beige broth and the other with a menacingly red one. These were heated to a rolling boil, and the steam coming off the liquid was pure, intoxicating, aromatic bliss. The red broth was spicy, with what appeared to be Tien Tsin chilies drowning in the oily abyss; both sides were flavored liberally with garlic, cloves, ginseng, ginger, goji berries and other unidentified spices. We had ordered our dishes from a pick list, and I was transfixed by the vapor when our food started to arrive.

Mild on the right, spicy on the left

We had ordered fish balls and shrimp balls (the shape, not the sexual organs), which were dumped readily into the pot. Plates of beef and chicken (frozen so that it could be shaved to almost translucent slices) were brought out and we dunked them in the broth with our chopsticks, cooking them almost immediately. Chunks of pork kidney and rings of pig intestines were brought out next, which cooked up beautifully – the kidney was mild, with hardly a hint of pungent taste usually associated with it. The scallion pancake was like a thin, crispy pizza, and the lamb dumpling reminded me of a juicy lamb burger encased in a dough overcoat. There were three sauces for dipping (a pinkish sauce made from fermented tofu, a spicy brown oily sauce, and a bland, light colored sauce – these could be mixed to add a combination sweetness, spiciness and saltiness). As captivating as all this food was, all activity came to a halt when the guest of honor arrived at the table – the chicken fertilizer. These were listed on the menu as “chicken nuts” (most likely to avoid confusion with the shrimp and fish balls), although they looked more like tiny, pale kidneys. At the waiter’s suggestion, these got dumped into the broth, although we had to drag the river for them since they declined to rise to the occasion as our waiter informed us they would. The scalding broth turned the flesh white and swelled them so that they looked like tiny hard-boiled eggs (possibly the source of their nickname, “rooster eggs”). If your weren’t aware of what they were, the image wouldn’t be even slightly disturbing.

The first attempt at rooster testicles

So what of the taste? Well, I daintily maneuvered one of the little guys into my mouth with the chopsticks, took a bite and experienced the Mount St. Helens of testicles. Scalding hot liquid filled my mouth, but since it wasn’t blistering I took the time to examine the taste. It was creamy and smooth, with a taste like egg mixed with a dash of chicken liver – it didn’t taste like chicken, but like it came from a chicken. I learned a valuable lesson after the first one, and allowed each subsequent one to cool slightly on the plate. Since only one or two of the six lunch guests cared to try one (and only one), the task of finishing off the last of them was left to yours truly. The broth was so amazing that I had them pack it up for me to take home and use for cooking, knowing that I would be better off straining it first to get rid of the twigs and seeds.

Chicken testicles aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but as part of a greater feast are a nice touch. In some places they’re deep fried, but I recommend them in hot pot for a full appreciation of their flavor. Call me nuts, but I could handle grabbing testicles for lunch at least once a week. OK, now I’m done.

Mon Land Hot Pot City
251 W. Bencamp Street
San Gabriel, CA 91776
GPS coordinants: 34°4′43.82″N 118°6′10.34″W

See more images from Val’s trip to Mon Land Hot Pot City

Video of Val and friends enjoying rooster testicles in hot pot

Marmite - Love it or Hate it

Over the years, I have had the pleasure and opportunity to savor unusual food from across the globe. I have enjoyed guinea pig at at a table where the other diners didn’t like the way the entree was looking at them; I have delighted in the rich, buttery taste of the spiky and odiferous durian, while others were gagging in the bushes. To this day people wonder what is my kryptonite, my gastronomic achilles heel. Surely, there is some food-like substance that has the power to ruin my breakfast. Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, let the record state that for the murder of my taste buds, I find the defendant – Marmite – guilty as charged. I’m sure I am going to catch some flak from some of my British counterparts for this, but this is to be expected. In fact, the official Marmite web site is split into two sections accessed from the home page – one for folks who love it, the other for those who hate it. Hate seems like a harsh term, but it adequately describes those who intensley dislike this crime against nature disguising itself as food. Marmite is a spread for toast that is the by-product of beer production; it is a sludge-like substance made from yeast extract. It has the consistency and stickiness of molasses and the taste of salted crankcase oil from an engine run for 100,000 miles. I don’t really have a point of reference here, never having salted crankcase oil, but I’m willing to bet I’m right.

I give Marmite the old college try

Marmite has been a breakfast staple in Her Majesty’s realm since 1902, originally sold in earthenware jars (presumably to keep the evil at bay). Because the source is the same, it is similar to the famous Australian Vegemite (thank you, Men at Work) but with a unique taste (since the manufacturing process is slightly different). When mentioning to my friends in the UK that I have tried Marmite for breakfast I am greeted with either a “Dear God in Heaven, why?” or “Heavenly – I love it!” The conflict between love and hatred of the spread has even prompted a classic commercial for the product that perfectly demonstrates the two sides; I will only say that it needs to be seen to be appreciated. As with any allegedly edible substance, I have given it the old college try numerous times. My first encounter with uni (sea urchin) was less than desirable, but it turns out that sampling sushi in Michigan for the first time may not be the best approach – a second attempt in California was enough to win me over. Sadly, I have tried Marmite approximately 5 times now, each with the same result. Since the traditional application is to slather the goo on toast, I’ve even tried it with artisan breads hoping to improve the experience – ever seen a loaf of bread commit suicide? At each sitting I completely eat the slice of toast, hoping that some subtle undertones or mysterious aftertastes come into play, but the result is always the same. The heady aroma of fermented yeast, paired with the saltiness and glue-like consistency always results in something like an episode of FOX TV’s “When Breakfast Foods Attack”. A freind had sent me a bag of Marmite cashews – roasted cashews lightly coated in Marmite – but for some odd reason the taste was not overwhelming and I was able to finish the bag.

Marmite cashews, a good entry point

Whenever I am sampling something for the first time, whether with family members or friends out dining, I always impart the same advice – do not say it’s disgusting until you try it. Have a nibble, a sip, and if you don’t like it, you’ll never have to eat it again. I do not wish to discourage anyone from trying new and unusual foods, and my opinion is just that. To those of you traveling to (or living in) the UK, I advise you to at least try some at breakfast and decide for yourself, but I strongly caution against the investment of a large jar should you decide to make a trip to the market. Personally, I believe in the manifestation of evil on Earth, and for me, Marmite is proof of that.

Marmite
Available at most UK groceries and import stores in the US

See video of Val eating Marmite
See video of Val and friends eating Marmite cashews
See hilarious commercial for Marmite

Burns Night Supper

The guest of honor - the haggis

Few events celebrate both a famous poet and a national dish quite like the Scottish celebration that is the Burns Supper. The event is traditionally held on the birthday of “Scotland’s favorite son” and national poet, Robert Burns. Burns was born on January 25 in 1759 and on that night it is not uncommon throughout Scotland and other parts of the United Kingdom to gather to memorialize not only Burns, but also haggis, the national dish of Scotland he made famous. The annual Burns Supper generally follows a particular structure, with the dish immortalized in Burns’ “Address to a Haggis” being the guest of honor. A true Scotsman would either be touched by Burbank’s Buchanan Arms holding a Burns Supper, or recoil in horror of having Americans give it a go for olde Rabbie Burns.

The oddly named cocky leeky soup

The event appeared to be advertised primarily by word of mouth – it was nearly impossible to get in. Buchanan Arms have been staging the event for years, and the proprietor mentioned that they get the same people in attendance year after year. It was difficult finding a Scottish accent in the place, but many of the men in attendance favored a kilt over pants. Friend and fellow blogger Eddie Lin wondered if a Catholic school uniform skirt could pass for a kilt, but I believe it would only give the impression that one was planning a night out in San Francisco’s Castro District. I opted for a green plaid scarf, hoping I wasn’t going to start a brawl for wearing a tartan pattern from a disgraced clan, figuring I could excuse my ignorance by stating I was cold. The event was standing room only, and I had negotiated seats at the bar, which actually gave me a good vantage point for the festivities. Traditionally a grace is given (usually the Selkirk Grace), but at this shindig the food was served without fanfare. The meal started with either a salad or cocky leeky soup. There was no way I was about to turn down a dish with a name like that, so I requested the soup. Cocky leeky (alternately cocka-a-leekie) is a simple soup made with chicken, leeks and rice. The rice was cooked down to a porridge-like consistency, which made it hard to identify, but the soup was flavorful and satisfying.

My second go at haggis

For the main course, guests could choose from five options: fish and chips, chicken, bangers and mash, roast supper with Yorkshire pudding or haggis. Being a party in celebration of said haggis, this was my obvious choice, although Claudia selected the fish and chips. She stated that it held up to the standard of what she had in England, but I noticed it was served with whole peas rather than mushy peas (which she preferred since she likened mushy peas to baby food). At a true Burns Supper, the haggis is served as the main course after the address, but since everyone else was eating, I wasn’t complaining. The haggis was served in traditional style, with tatties and neeps (mashed potato and parsnips respectively). It was quite a departure from the store-bought haggis I wrote about in a previous blog article – since haggis still cannot be imported into the United States, Buchanan Arms made their own from sheep offal and cooked it in a synthetic substitute for the lamb stomach. The taste was remarkably different than Macweens – the sheep parts outnumbered the oats, imparting a very strong, earthy flavor with less of the sweetness. Claudia compared her small bite to a cross between ground beef and liver. The strong taste was cut considerably when mixing forkfuls with the potatoes and turnips, but the trio perfectly complemented each other.

After the plates were cleared away, the pomp and circumstance began (actually “Scotland the Brave”) as a bagpiper lead the procession in true form, a massive two foot-long haggis on a silver tray taking up the rear (wow, that sounds wrong). The mini-parade wound its way through the pub to the stage, where the thick-brogued Moira Stewart addressed the haggis to a hushed crowd. In dramatic fashion, she read Burns’ “Address to a Haggis” aloud, slicing the behemoth open on queue like a Scottish Jason Vorhees. The traditional toast of Scotch whiskey followed the address; for the toast I had the barkeep supply me with a wee dram of Glenmoranie Original (which she “guessed” was 12 years old). She initially suggested Crown Royal, but it didn’t have the appropriate ring to it. Dessert (trifle) was brought out; there are an endless variety of ingredients and methods to make it. Buchanan Arms had prepared theirs with Jell-O, blancmange and some sort of crumbly cake, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. It was every bit as sweet as it sounds. The band (The Ploughboys) continued to play Irish and Scottish songs for the remainder of the evening until the revelers began to filter out.

I believe you should accept every opportunity to try a new dish coinciding with a celebration, and a Burns Supper is a good way to do both and participate in age-old tradition at the same time. Just don’t do imitations of Star Trek’s Scotty or you’re likely to end up in the haggis.

Buchanan Arms
2013 W. Burbank Blvd.
Burbank, CA 91506
GPS coordinates: 34°10′49.83″N 118°19′59.96″W

See more images of Val attending a Burns Supper
See video of Val eating haggis
See video of the address to the haggis

The sprawling cluster of buildings that make up Wall Drug

Have you ever been in traffic, maybe in Boston, Chicago or Atlanta and noticed a Wall Drug bumper sticker on one of the cars in front of you? Perhaps you’ve wondered, “What is this Wall Drug, and why does a drug store have bumper stickers?” The fact of the matter is that Wall Drug is a variety of things, least of which is a drug store. Part of its mystery and allure may come from the fact that it’s pretty far from anywhere. To find Wall Drug you’d have to either plan a trip out through the badlands of South Dakota or just happen to be passing through on Interstate 90. It’s impossible to ignore the signs along the highway for hundreds of miles in either direction, beckoning like The Thing on Interstate 10 in Arizona. Since there’s really nothing else around for miles, it almost makes sense to stop, which is exactly what Nebraskan pharmacist Ted Hustead and his wife Dorothy realized when they bought a little drug store in Wall, South Dakota back in 1931. What took a little time was to figure out how to get the lines of people heading down Interstate 90 to see the relatively new Mount Rushmore to stop in their little town. It was Dorothy who hit upon the idea to offer travelers free ice water, and as the saying goes, if you build it they will come. Billboards on the highway attracted travelers and business got so good that they grew from a storefront drug store to what amounts to a rustic, western-themed mall and entertainment complex encompassing an entire city block.

Wildlife keep watch over the restroom

If Aunt Edna needed her heart medicine before hitting Rapid City some 50 miles to the west, you could get it at Wall Drug; the problem would be figuring out where to look. As you wind your way through the 76,000 square foot labyrinth of interconnected buildings you see Western clothing, souvenirs, jewelry, furniture, art, and a restaurant that features Western art. Out through the back is Wall Drug’s Backyard, featuring concrete and fiberglass creatures including a Sinclair apatosaurus and a gigantic jackalope (dwarfs compared to the behemoths found throughout North Dakota). In the center of this madness is a water dispenser where you can still have your fill of free ice water. I visited in February, when the high temperature was in the upper 40s, but when in Rome, drink the free ice water. Winter is a great time to visit this Gene Autry version of the Magic Kingdom as you don’t have to worry about long lines of people waiting to see the animatronic roaring T-Rex (just an upper body peeking over a fence). The restaurant is decent, but not outstanding – it does, however have the drawing power of an $8 buffalo burger and a 5-cent cup of coffee.

Colossal critters roam through the Wall Drug Backyard

This mecca of cowboy kitsch isn’t going to drop your jaw in wonder, nor will you likely pack up the Buick with Indian blankets and faux Fredric Remington sculptures but it’s a fun place to stop if you happen to be cruising through that part of South Dakota to see Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse Monument, Deadwood, Sturgis or even the stark beauty and desolation of The Badlands. You certainly get your money’s worth of entertainment value – there is no fee to enter; just don’t forget Aunt Edna’s heart medicine on the way out.

Wall Drug
510 Main St
Wall, SD 57790
GPS Coordinates: 43°59′34.62″N 102°14′29.30″W

See more pictures from Val’s visit to Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota

The taste sensation sweeping the nation - fried Twinkie

How can something so wrong be so right? Just the thought of eating a Twinkie sends a chemically-induced sugar rush up the back of my spine, so what would prompt me to brave the cellophane-wrapped snack that looks like Sponge Bob’s coffin? The opportunity to have it deep-fried. There was still a high degree of risk, but I wanted to see what the frying process did to make this foam brick from Hell edible (or more inedible). The invention of the deep fried Twinkie in 1992 is said to be attributed Shea Apple, a transplant from Great Britain who opened a chip shop in Brooklyn, New York (appropriately named “The Chip Shop”). Unlike your neighborhood chip shop (or “chippy” in the UK), The Chip Shop batters and fries everything that will survive the Frialator including pizza, macaroni and cheese, and Mars Bars. After experimenting with various snack items, he found the Twinkie to fry up quite nicely. They use the same batter used for frying fish (for the fish and chips); it is served sliced lengthwise, dusted with powdered sugar, sitting on a berry sauce-drizzled plate.

Golden goodness right out of the fryer

Since the initial hot oil bath in 1992, the deep fried Twinkie has grown in popularity to take its place beside its corn dog cousin as standard county and state fair food. Apparently following John B. L. Soule’s sage advice, a take on the deep fried Twinkie found a home on the west coast at no less an appropriate location than The Rose Bowl. On a recent trip there (for the swap meet – football and I don’t understand one another), I happened upon a food booth (The Dessert Factory) with the magical words “Fried Twinkie” on their sign; they also advertised fried cupcakes, but the Twinkie is the item that had piqued my curiosity. The preparation is slightly different than The Chip Shop’s – the Twinkie is unwrapped and dipped unfrozen in funnel cake batter (making it the perfect carnival food), then held in the fryer with a pair of tongs. Straight out of the fryer, it is placed on a paper plate where it gets a light flurry of powdered sugar snow and then a choice of sauce toppings (including strawberry, berry and chocolate). I opted for the strawberry, applied in spin art fashion. Unlike its photo on the web page, the Twinkie did not have a wooden stake through its sugary little heart.

Somebody call the EMTs and bring the defibrillator

3 dollars later, I was poised to sample the hot confectionary dish knowing that it would probably taste better because I was outside. Anyone who has bought a pretzel, hot dog or bag of chestnuts from a New York City street vendor or a burrito off an L.A. taco truck will back me up on this. The plastic spoon went in and I tasted my first bite in utter amazement. Everything that I hate about Twinkies was purged through the miracle of hot oil. The cellulose sponge quality was gone – the batter was soaked up into it and fried into a light crispy texture that wasn’t greasy. The sugary center, usually having a grainy, paste-like quality was just at the gooey, melted stage without being liquid. Although not as sweet as baklava, it is still a dessert you wouldn’t want more than one of – it is a major sugar rush. This qualifies as a fun dessert to eat when out at an event, but it’s not going to have me running into the nearest 7-11 for a Twinkie fix or even tempt me to try making it at home – I’ll leave that to the trained professionals.

The Dessert Factory (at The Rose Bowl)
1001 Rose Bowl Dr.
Pasadena, CA 91103
GPS coordinates: 34°9′35.19″N 118°10′2.04″W

The Chip Shop
383 Fifth Ave. (at 6th St.)
Brooklyn, NY 11215
GPS coordinates: 40°40′14.90″N 73°59′5.07″W

See more images of Val eating a deep-fried Twinkie

SPAM, wonderful SPAM

What do you mean, “Ech”? I’m not sure where Spam gets its bad reputation; perhaps it’s because it comes in a can. Food snobs turn their nose up at it, likening it to the meat version of Cheez Whiz. Even the great food explorer Andrew Zimmern expresses his disdain for it. You know a food is feared when people prefer blowfish to it, but Spam also generates somewhat of a cult following. We’ll talk about where Spam gets elevated to cause célèbre status, but first let’s discuss its humble origin. Spam was originally made by Hormel Foods of Austin, Minnesota way back in 1937. Although alternating versions of the name attribute it to an alliteration of “Shoulder of Pork and hAM” or the simpler “SPiced HAM”, Hormel maintains that the name is an adjective, and insists that it is spelled with all upper-case letters. One of my personal favorite plays on the acronym is “Something Posing As Meat.” The ingredients state it is chopped pork shoulder with added ham meat. It gained a surge in popularity during World War II, especially in Hawaii where fresh meat was difficult to come by. American soldiers ate it with most of their meals, and it continues to be eaten by more Hawaiians that anywhere else on earth per capita. As I discovered on a trip to Austin, Minnesota (for non-Spam purposes), you can smell it throughout the town (those of you living near Heinz in Pittsburgh or General Foods in Woburn, Massachusetts know what I’m talking about).

SPAM sculpture at Spamarama in Austin TX

Blogging about a canned food item found in grocery stores worldwide doesn’t seem particularly trippy, but here my friends is where we talk about Spam being the cause of celebration and the creative ways it is used. Let’s start with the yearly celebration that has taken place in Austin, Minnesota’s namesake city of Austin, Texas annually since 1976. Spamarama has been a no-holds barred festival of potted pork, incorporating games into the festivities. Regular events include a Spam tug-of-war (across a pit of Spam gelatin), a Spam-eating contest (not for the faint of heart), and my personal favorite, the Spam Toss. Picture the old fair staple of the egg toss; now substitute the egg with a can of Spam, freshly opened and still glistening with gelatin. One winner grabbed the pork projectile and clasped it safely against his chest like a football, essentially ruining his T-shirt. The Spam cook-off has produced items such as Spam brownies (I am not joking) and Spam ice cream; judges are required to sample all the items in the competition. In a nearby tent, the Spam sculpture contest is held with most looking like a bizarre autopsy. Sadly the economy has taken its toll on the festival – it was not held at all in 2008 and it looks like since corporate sponsorship from Hormel has been greatly reduced that 2009 saw no Spamarama either leaving its future in doubt.

Enjoying SPAM musubi at Spam Jam in Honolulu HI

Fret not if you are looking for the ultimate Spam party; you can still find it in the capital of Spam consumption – Honolulu, Hawaii. Since 2003, the free Spam Jam has been held on a closed-off section of Kalakaua Avenue just off Waikiki Beach. As opposed to Spamarama, Spam Jam is generally held at night with booths selling Spam merchandise and local restaurants who try their hand at creating interesting takes on the canned meat. Spamghetti and meatballs, Spam pizza, you name it, they’ve tried it. Rather than compete the foods in a contest, the concoctions are sold to the festival attendees. Several stages feature live music, while the center stage crowns a king and queen of the festival. One of the treats being sold is a Hawaiian favorite – Spam musubi. Think Spam on sushi rice with the obligatory seaweed wrap and topped with a teriyaki-like brown sauce. Odd as it sounds, it’s quite delicious. The Spam is cooked (sorry to disappoint the sashimi lovers) and the meat provides the flavor to the rice with just a little kick from the sauce. It’s larger than your typical sushi, so eating it can get messy, but it’s worth it. Stateside, you can find Spam musubi as a staple in most Hawaiian BBQ joints (such as L&L Hawaiian Barbecue, Ono Hawaiian BBQ and even the Waikikie Hawaiian BBQ in Atlanta), although there are few east of the Mississippi.

Long regarded as a prop for a Monty Python sketch or a word to strike fear in a young child’s heart at breakfast, Spam is an unreasonably feared and maligned food that deserves a try. I wouldn’t eat it every day like the G.I.s, but I’m still dying to try the Spam saimin. On the off chance that you don’t like it, don’t cause a fuss. I’ll have your Spam. I love it. I’m having Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, beaked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam!
 
Spam Jam
2324 Kalakaua Ave.
Honolulu, HI 96815
GPS coordinates: 21°16′38.98″N 157°49′38.33″W

See more Spam-related images

Greetings from sunny Hell

What could give your bragging about having been to Hell and back more street cred than a trip to Hell, Michigan? Think about the joy of having a point of reference the next time someone says, “It’s hotter than Hell today”, or to truly know what a snowball’s chance there is. Don’t let the name fool you – although it would be fun to provide pictures of Death Valley or Kilauea and let you believe this is what Hell looks like, this couldn’t be farther from the truth; I would liken parts of nearby Detroit as more befitting the name of Hell. The tiny town is about 20 miles from Ann Arbor as the crow flies (you can substitute a raven if you’d like) and as is true of much of that region of the Midwest it is relatively flat. The drive takes you through picturesque green rolling pasture and farmland, and while the road to Hell is assumed to be paved with good intentions, I am sorry to report that it is smooth, well-kept asphalt – not even brimstone!

The road to Hell is paved with asphalt

The origin of the name is up for debate – the general consensus is that original settler George Reeves was asked what the new town should be named and replied, “You can name it Hell for all I care” and so it has been since 1841. The town’s primary source of income appears to be tourism, aside from the small local farms. The town’s population had dwindled over the years down to a modest 50 people back in the 1990s, but its lure as a place to say you’ve been to has boosted the recent population to over 250. A single green “Hell” sign on the highway lets you know you’re headed straight to hell; it isn’t until you drive into what can roughly be called “downtown” that you know you’re there. There are three buildings of note, each next to each other. The first is a general store with a tiny post office in the back. You can buy souvenirs here, including T-shirts from the fictional Dam University (yes, they read “Dam U”) and postcards which can be conveniently sent from the general store post office with a Hell, Michigan postmark (although they are served by the post office in adjacent Pinckney).

The dam on Hell Creek

Walking across the parking lot there is a tall post with signs showing the direction and distances of major world cities; at the end is the Screams Ice Cream parlor. The outside wall facing the parking lot is a favorite photo opportunity – since being converted from a liquor store they have changed the artwork to a more flame-oriented logo, still providing the perfect backdrop for those lovable family photos. Unfortunately in the renovation they also removed the freestanding “Welcome to Hell” sign that stood out front. Moving down the road is the Dam Site Inn, a small restaurant on the banks of Hell Creek with a view of the creek and it’s infamous dam. Suffice it to say the dam on Hell Creek is one of the town’s main attractions and the place to determine exactly when Hell freezes over.

The townsfolk are friendly and eager to serve (you, not Satan) and take a lighthearted approach to the town’s name and reputation, a veritable yearlong Halloween party. It isn’t the kind of place you’d want to stay for a few days (you would suffer boredom long before fear), but if you’re in the area it’s worth a visit. Take my friendly advice and when in the Ann Arbor area, go to Hell!

Hell, Michigan
Post Office / General Store
4025 Patterson Lake Road
Pinckney, MI 48169-8739
GPS Coordinates: 42°26′3.87″N 83°59′6.94″W

See more images from Hell, Michigan

Stinky tofu, no further description needed

Think of the gleeful cries of joy when you tell the kids to get in the Wagon Queen Family Truckster for a road trip to get some stinky tofu just like momma used to make. I know, the wave of excitement is indescribable, after all, who wouldn’t want to try the Taiwanese taste treat without having to fly there? If this sounds like you, then I have the answer to your culinary prayers at Lee’s Garden in Alhambra, California. Lee’s Garden is in a storefront of a strip mall that you might drive past several times without realizing it’s there. Hui, a friend who turns us on to some amazing and unusual Chinese cuisine told us about the place and mentioned that they had other food unusual to our Western sensibilities that we might enjoy. The sign is slightly smaller than its next door neighbor, Dr. Lee’s Family Dentistry – I’m not sure if there is a link between the two but I feel not knowing in this case makes me a happier person. Inside is a testament to simplicity – no cork sculptures or laminated panels on the wall here, just tables, chairs and a hand-written menu on a big whiteboard that changes daily. We knew we wanted an order of the stinky tofu (which was listed on the menu as “fried odor bean curd”, a delectable title to be sure), but when I saw pork blood soup and chitterlings with garlic sauce I was sold.

Hui escorts us to Lees Garden in Alhambra

The soup was brought out first, a stark contrast to my premonition of a dark red cauldron of bubbling brew. The broth was relatively clear, allowing a look at the various ingredients including lemon grass, chunks of coagulated pig’s blood and the extra added bonus of chitterlings. The blood didn’t really have the usual metallic taste – it was smoother, like a sweet blood Jell-O, which tasted good with the broth. The chitterlings added more texture than flavor, making it a nice, well rounded soup choice. The chitterling appetizer had a firmer texture than the pig guts in the soup, with garlic and chilies being the predominant flavors. I imagine the intestines were cleaned well, since there was no insidious aftertaste or bad intestine juju vibe sneaking in from underneath. Both were good enough to finish off and still leave room for the pièce de résistance, the stinky tofu.

An epic battle between man and stinky tofu

The tofu was an adventure for the senses. Bringing one of the spongy cubes up to my mouth exposed me to a whiff of the pungent, funky odor that gives the dish its name. The tofu was served with a brown, spicy sauce to the side, but I wanted to try it naked. A little sauce snuck its way into the first bite, and as soon as it hit the tongue, a wide range of things started happening. The tofu was hell hot, and quick reflexes prevented me from burning my tongue. The frying at high temperature locked in the funk, which was released on the first bite, wending its way up into my nasal passages from the back of my mouth. The spice from the brown sauce acted as a tease and a diversion, but the strong smell of the tofu itself demanded the most attention. It is such a curious dish that you find yourself eating it slowly to get all the different subtleties of flavor and aroma.

On the whole, the food adventure was a success, and I was happy to be able to take in three new tastes (and smells) at one sitting. Stinky tofu is not a dish for the faint of heart or an acute sense of smell, but it is something the family will be able to talk about on the way to the House of Mud in Liberal, Kansas.

Lee’s Garden
1428 S. Atlantic Blvd
Alhambra, CA 91803
GPS coordinates: 34° 4′37.73″N 118° 8′1.18″W

See images of stinky tofu, blood soup and chitterlings from Lee’s Garden in Alhambra CA
See video of Val eating stinky tofu
See video of Val eating pork blood soup and chitterlings with garlic sauce

The fork in the road at the fork in the road

The road to life often forks, leaving you to wonder which path to take. At the intersections of Pasadena Avenue and St. John Avenue in Pasadena, California you can only go right, but you may want to linger for a bit to admire the fork itself. Local artist Ken Marshall erected an 18-foot tall steel-reinforced wooden fork at the intersection of the two streets as a prank for the birthday of The Ice House founder Bob Stane’s 75th birthday during Halloween in 2009. A permit is required when erecting public art in Pasadena, but men dressed as CalTrans workers erected the sculpture surreptitiously in the middle of the night. Pasadena’s mayor has expressed no desire to have it removed, noting that it brings people to the area and has a positive impact on the community, but the traffic island is under the jurisdiction of CalTrans and may eventually have to be removed. The fork is painted silver, but the fact that it is made of wood may make it temporary anyway.

You can eat a lot of meat with this fork

The fork is not the first of its kind, nor is it the largest. In 2000, artist Stephen Schreiber created a 31-foot tall fork from steel and aluminum, also located at a fork in the road in Milan, New York. A giant steel fork in Springfield, Missouri stands outside an ad agency – it was originally in front of an Italian restaurant but purchased and moved when the restaurant went out of business. Although probably the largest fork in the world, it is disqualified here since it not only doesn’t stand at a fork in the road, but also is hidden behind the building. The Pasadena fork can safely be called the largest wooden fork in the world. Recently a food drive was successfully conducted at the site of the fork, and with all the positive publicity it will probably be around for awhile, or at least until they’re told to get the fork out of here.

Forks in the Road:
Intersection of Pasadena and St. John Avenues
Pasadena, CA 91105
GPS coordinates: 34°7′51.81″N 118°9′17.27″W

Intersection of New York 199 and New York 308
Milan, NY 12571
GPS coordinates: 41°58′13.52″N 73°49′15.23″W

Large fork:
2215 W Chesterfield Blvd.
Springfield, MO 65807
GPS coordinates: 37°8′43.49″N 93°19′23.81″W

The world-famous Hibachi Drill Team

What if you lived in Pasadena, California and woke one Sunday morning on New Year’s Day to take in the annual tradition of the Tournament of Roses Parade only to find out that it wasn’t being held? This isn’t unusual, since the parade is never held on Sunday when New Year’s Day falls there (it is held January 2nd). In 1978, that exact situation occurred, and several friends who were regulars at a now-defunct bar called Chromo’s took advantage of the situation to present what would amount to the anti-Rose Parade, the Doo Dah Parade. Although the Rose Parade is something everyone should do once in a lifetime (and probably only once), there’s only so much flowers, happiness and joy you can take while nursing a Gran Patrón Platinum hangover. Sometimes you just want Rickey Rat instead of Mickey Mouse, and when that happens, the Doo Dah Parade is your ticket to paradise. For the Doo Dah, there’s no need to do the overnight street camping required for a good free seat at the Rose Parade, but you also don’t need to worry about getting covered in eggs, tortillas, shaving cream and Silly String (if only I were making this up). The worst that could happen is getting dragged into the action on the street or getting hit with a meat projectile (more on this later).

The marching Character Actor Stunt Group (with Santa Claus)

Before you plan your New Year’s Day festivities around the Doo Dah, understand this: it isn’t always held on New Year’s Day (unlike its similar cousin, Philadelphia’s Mummers Parade). In the past it has been held in November and late January; in 2010 it is slated for May 1st. The parade starts at Pasadena’s Memorial Park (on the corner of Raymond Avenue and Walnut Street), and if you get there early you can see all the wackiness unfolding as parade entries build floats, practice their drills, pose for photos and try to recruit for their wacky causes (such as legalizing ferret ownership in California). Prior to the parade kick off, the best spots are along Raymond Avenue between Holly Street and Colorado Boulevard (where the parade turns); here you get the best chance of seeing the action before batteries wear out, flimsy costumes and floats self destruct and flame jugglers run out of fuel (which of course does not detract from the insanity).

Claude Rains and several of his invisible friends march in the Doo Dah

By now I’m sure you’re wondering what differentiates the Doo Dah from the Rose Parade; to illustrate this, let’s talk about some of the regular participants. The Doo Dah has its share of individual entries: clowns, pirates, Abe Lincoln, male ballerinas in tutus, an adult male diaper-clad Cupid, Fester Adams (complete with bubble machine and mouth-illuminated light bulbs), etc. Regular group participants include The Bastard Sons of Lee Marvin (complete with a wheeled coffin containing a cigar smoking “Lee Marvin” skeleton); the Men of Leisure Drill Team (who carry pillows and do formations ending with them dropping to the ground and napping); Ferret Freedom (featuring a rideable giant ferret float); and many more. Some have to be seen to be believed – The Claude Rains Memorial Invisible Man Marching Drill Team features a clothed, bandaged Invisible Man carrying the center of a huge banner with the gloves of 20 “invisible” men carrying the ends. My favorite, and an annual parade staple is The Barbeque and Hibachi Marching Drill Team, a full-out assault on the senses. The procession is usually preceded by a piloted motorized hot dog, followed by backyard grill chefs wheeling grills down Raymond Avenue while they cook. The drill team itself follows – attire usually includes empty Kingsford charcoal bags worn as chef’s hats and colorful aprons. Smoking hibachi and Weber kettle grills hang from their neck like marching toms as they grill up hot dogs while doing parade formations. As soon as the dogs are done, they are handed to roving hot dog fusiliers who stuff them into bazooka-like devices and fire the foil-wrapped wieners into the crowd. I personally witnessed some of the hot dog cannons overshooting their targets and dropping their payload on awnings and low rooftops. If the crows and Pasadena parrots don’t get them, it makes for a fragrant few weeks.

A giant rolling ferret is part of the Ferret Freedom parade entry

The parade is somewhat kid friendly, but there is a risqué air to it. If you sit close to the street, there is an excellent chance you will be accosted by some of the participants and possibly dragged out to the street to participate as well. I like to think of it as if the participants of the Rose Parade couldn’t make it so the committee went to South Congress Avenue in Austin, Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco, L.A.’s Venice Beach and Greenwich Village in NYC to recruit fill-ins. Similar Doo Dah parades in Ocean City, New Jersey and Columbus, Ohio have been inspired by the Pasadena original, and also are held on different days, but share the joyful insanity. The bottom line is: you will be entertained. You may even walk away with your dignity intact. If you ask Clark Griswold (the original trippy tripper), he’ll tell you you’re “gonna have so much fun you’ll need plastic surgery to remove your smiles. You’ll be whistling ‘Zip-A-Dee Doo-Dah’…” Actually, he’ll phrase it slightly different, but I’ll leave that for you to look up.
 
The Doo Dah Parade
(start) Walnut Street and North Raymond Avenue
Pasadena, California 91101
GPS coordinates:  34° 8′55.74″N 118° 8′52.71″W

See more images of Pasadena, California’s Doo Dah Parade

No need for a sign to see the giant buffalo

As you may have gathered from the article on Salem Sue (world’s largest Holstein cow), North Dakota truly is the land of the giants. This becomes apparent in Jamestown, North Dakota, a mere 90 miles west of Fargo (oh, jeez!) when you catch a glimpse of the world’s largest buffalo from Interstate 94. You could be content to pull off to the shoulder, exclaim, “That IS a big buffalo” and head back on your merry way to see the world’s largest sandhill crane, but why not stop and see what makes Frontier Village interesting? Fight the urge to turn around at the gates, even though it looks like you’re about to enter Walt Disney’s version of F Troop. Ignore the wind vane decorated to look like a Native American headdress and pull all the way down the road to the parking area. From the parking lot you will have no problem finding the world’s largest buffalo – nothing stands between you and the behemoth except a dirt path. Normally by this point in the article I would have been using the beast’s name (e.g., Betsey the lobster, Sandy the crane, Salem Sue the Holstein, etc.), but for some unknown reason he (yes, the buffalo is anatomically correct) doesn’t have one. For the sake of this article we’ll call him “Bill“.

The sign helps if you are not sure where the largest buffalo is

As you approach “Bill”, the magnitude of his size becomes apparent. Although shorter than Salem Sue (at 26 feet high by 46 feet long), the buffalo outweighs her since he was made from the best giant beast material available in 1959 – reinforced concrete. At 60 tons, no one is going to be backing their Ford F150 up to steal the sculpture any time soon. Because of the degradation of the materials, “Bill” needs occasional grooming – on my visit he appeared to be sporting a recent coat of paint. The sculpture was created by artist Elmer Paul Peterson at a cost somewhere between $4,500 and $8,500 and dedicated by Nelson Rockefeller. The sculpture actually preceded Frontier Village, which was built with the existing statue as its centerpiece. Walking back up from the statue and past the parking lot takes you into “the village”, a collection of old and historic buildings moved there from elsewhere and assembled on both sides of the drive. Some of these are open to the public during the height of the summer tourist season, having been converted into mini-museums or shops, but personally I’ll take elbow room over living dioramas any day of the week.

White Cloud, the first white buffalo of the herd

To the south of the village is a fenced in area featuring a herd of approximately 30 live buffalo. As you admire the herd, your eye may catch something unusual – a white buffalo. White Cloud was born in 1996 as a true albino buffalo; since joining the herd she has had several calves, one of which is also albino. They have also recently added a third albino buffalo calf to the herd, bringing the number to three (outstanding when you consider that albinism occurs once in every 10 million births, and there are only 350,000 buffalo in existence). Continuing along the fence brings you to the gift shop and National Buffalo Museum – for $5 you can browse through the museum, but everything else on the premises is free of charge. Just seeing the world’s largest buffalo, the live herd and the white buffalo is worth the trip, so if you’re in the mood to learn more about the buffalo and its history in North America, drop the $5 and check it out.

For the seeker of all things gigantic, North Dakota’s I-94 corridor offers a veritable utopia, nowhere quite as evident as at Frontier Village. With all that walking around, you may just work up an appetite for a thick, juicy bison burger, easily attainable in The Buffalo City. Tell them Bill sent you…

World’s Largest Buffalo / white buffalo
Frontier Village
404 Louis L’Amour Lane
Jamestown, ND 58401
GPS coordinates:  46°53′21.00″N  98°41′54.80″

See more images from Frontier Village in Jamestown, North Dakota

This is a kangaroo taco - you could accidently eat this

With Pasadena’s Luigi Ortega’s being located directly across the street from Pasadena Community College, you would expect to see a noisy, college hangout. Sandwiches and pizza come as no surprise, nor does the East Coast atmosphere. What usually causes a double-take is the Exotic Menu; a separate menu offers dishes such as Gator Pie (a pizza topped with garlic-marinated alligator) and Ostrich Quesadilla (exactly what it sounds like.) For a nominal fee, you can also substitute ostrich, kangaroo, alligator or turtle for meat items on the regular menu (think cheese steak sandwich with kangaroo.) The concept is simple – blur the lines between a Philly or New York pizza and sub shop with a California taco stand. The logo features caricatures of what we can assume to be Luigi and Ortega – Luigi looking like one those ceramic Italian chef utensil holders and Ortega being a throwback to the politically incorrect days of the Frito Bandito. One of the house specialties is a foreboding-sounding “Dr. Death’s Suicide Pie”, a jalapeño pizza topped with 6 whole habañero peppers ( a good late-night drunken dare menu item).

Eddie Lin and me in front of Luigi Ortegas in Pasadena CA

I invited fellow food adventurer and blogger Eddie Lin to join me for lunch, and after describing the Exotic Menu to him he accepted my offer. The vibe inside is confusing – there are a plethora of wide-screen flat panel screens each showing a separate channel (including The Travel Channel); old 8 by 10 reproductions of historic newspaper front pages were pressed between the wooden tables and glass table tops. The walls were papered in enlarged signs, maps, and photos with old scenes from East Coast cities. A huge blue hand straight out of Yellow Submarine pointed to the counter where the food is ordered. Naturally, I ordered from the Exotic Menu, deciding on grilled turtle on a stick and a kangaroo taco. Eddie ordered the exotic meat sampler, with a skewer from each of the four food groups (alligator, kangaroo, ostrich and turtle), but also wanted to try their Philadelphia-style cheese steak sandwich. After ordering, we were each handed a plastic slice of pizza that lights up and vibrates when your order is ready – these are placed in a handy rack on the table with v-shaped slots for the pizza lights. The staff sees your pizza light up and voila! Dinner is served.

I don’t recall seeing my “slice” light up, but it seemed to take a long time to get the food. This was a bit unusual since there were only patrons at two other tables. I imagine that if it took that long when the restaurant was empty, you’d better not be hungry when they’re at full capacity. The kangaroo taco arrived first; to the naked eye it appeared to be your run of the mill open-faced (soft) taco with lettuce, cheese and tomato (with a sprinkling of cilantro thrown in there just for fun). The kangaroo looked like a light-colored beef, but had the slight taste and consistency of lamb (albeit chewier). Although it was somewhat bland, it provided the benefit of not taking away from the taste of the kangaroo.

Enjoying a turtle kebab at Luigi Ortega

When the turtle skewers arrived, there were four sticks arranged on a plate with a little plastic tub of peanut dipping sauce. A fingertip of the sauce revealed it to taste like Thai peanut salad dressing; it wasn’t horrible or spectacular, but I decided to try the turtle au natural. I have had the turtle burrito here previously, and “snapper” soup at Bookbinder’s in Philadelphia, but I don’t recall it being as tough as the kebabs were. They required some chewing, and unfortunately were cold (they may have been left sitting before being brought to the table). The taste was similar to pot roast, but with a muddy sort of undertone. They were tasty, but probably would have been more enjoyable had they not been cold. I’m thinking that ordering the skewers may require some sort of preparation that is unnecessary when adding the meat to a standard menu item, but you run the risk of the taste being subdued by the other ingredients (as was the case with the aforementioned burrito). What would keep me coming back is the atmosphere, the novelty of being able to get exotic meat and the wacky sense of humor and kitsch displayed, but more cold food in the future may trump that.

It’s definitely worth the experience, and a fun place to hang out, but whatever you do, DO NOT PRESS THE RED BUTTON in the rest room. Just don’t do it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
 
Luigi Ortega’s
1655 E Colorado Blvd
Pasadena, CA 91106-2131
GPS coordinates: 34° 8′46.09″N 118° 6′58.27″W

See more images of Val and Eddie Lin at Luigi Ortega’s in Pasadena, California
See Eddie Lin’s blog article on Luigi Ortega’s at Deep End Dining

Herbie, mascot of The Gilroy Garlic Festival

There are several urban legends about Gilroy, California: that you can smell the town before you get to it, and that you can marinate a steak simply by hanging it from a clothesline. Although neither of these is true, Gilroy is renowned for its claim of Garlic Capital of the World, and its annual Garlic Festival. Held the last weekend in July since 1978, the Gilroy Garlic Festival is the brainchild of Dr. Rudy Malone, president of Gavilan College. After hearing about a French festival that drew 80,000 people, Dr. Malone was determined to wrest the title away from the French and bring it to Gilroy, nestled in the green hills of southern Santa Clara County in California. Although they are not the world’s leading producer of garlic, they are probably the most famous, presumably because of the Garlic Festival.

Gilroy Garlic Queen (center) and her court

Should your love of all things garlic convince you to attend the festival, keep in mind that it draws in people from all over the world – it is best to get there early, and when I say early, I mean when the gates open. Local hotels sell out fast, but the drive into Gilroy is picturesque farmland and wild scrub, and not far from the rugged California coast making the journey worth the destination. Admission to the festival is currently around $12, worthwhile just for the sights, sounds and smells. Don’t worry too much about following directions to Christmas Hill Park, for as soon as you get into Gilroy you will hit traffic being diverted to festival parking. The entrance is a short walk from the parking area, but as soon as you arrive you are hit with the smell of food being broiled, fried and otherwise cooked with varying degrees of garlicness.

My advice to you is to hit the garlic ice cream booth first. Trust me on this, by noon the line wends its way across the park and they have been known to run out. There are several booths featuring garlic ice cream, but only one that hands out free garlic ice cream in tiny cones. For some, this is the main draw to the festival – you can get garlic ice cream year round at The Stinking Rose restaurant in either Beverly Hills or North Beach in San Francisco for about $7 bucks, but spend the extra $5 for the Garlic Festival and enjoy the other festivities as well. For you vampires that the mention of garlic ice cream strikes fear into your hearts, fear not – it is truly delicious and worthy of being called dessert. As you bring the soft-serve delight up to your mouth, you get the slight aroma of garlic, but it is not overwhelming. The first bite (or lick) is creamy, smooth and sweet, and after about a minute the light flavor of garlic creeps in, but blends so well with the sweetness that you can’t help finishing it and going back for another.

At the most popular booth, small samples of garlic ice cream are free

Two large centrally located areas of the event are dedicated to vendors’ tents, selling a variety of cooking items and garlic-themed products. Christopher Ranch (one of the biggest sponsors) sells fresh garlic from their booth, and at 25 cents per bulb, you’d be wise to stock up.  At three different stages, live bands perform all day and into the evening; the festival also hires roving performers such as ragtime bands, barbershop quartets, accordion players and other acts worthy of an outdoor festival. The festival historically has been a fundraising event, and a big, metal garlic bulb shoots flame from its top and displays how much money has been raised for charity.

In a small area surrounded by bleachers, chefs challenge each other with garlic-themed cuisine at the Garlic Showdown. The audience gets to watch the teams prepare the food while an MC gives the play by play. Unfortunately the cuisine is judged by a panel, which gets to taste the entries leaving nothing for the spectators. At several other tents with smaller bleachers, chefs perform live cooking demonstrations with liberal amounts of garlic that the small crowds do get to devour with great gusto. Running through the center of the festival is Gourmet Alley – a variety of food is prepared inside a huge tent, with specific items available from booths on either side. At the south end, the Pryo Chefs prepare the food in a manner that is as much about performance as skill. These chefs don’t get the moniker “Pyro Chef” for nothing – their “flameouts” are truly a spectacle to behold, cooking the food over a ball of flame that looks like a small nuclear detonation. Gourmet Alley serves up standard garlic fare such as garlic sausage, chicken and shrimp scampi, stuffed and marinated mushrooms, calamari and garlic bread. For the more adventurous, vendors on the outskirts serve up delicacies such as garlic corn on the cob, popcorn, oysters, crawfish, French fries, alligator, venison, frog legs and tacos. I opted for one from Column A and one from Column B; the garlic stuffed mushrooms from Gourmet Alley were broiled to perfection, being cooked through yet still having “pop” and rich, garlic flavor. The alligator tail chunks from one of the vendors were marinated in garlic, lightly breaded, skewered and fried. They were crisp, slightly chewy and thoroughly delicious. Although many who try alligator state that it “tastes like chicken”, I find the taste and texture closer to veal.

Garlic-marinated alligator on a stick - yum!

After leaving the festival I thought I would check out downtown Gilroy. Monterey Street runs through downtown, but sadly many of the historic structures remain abandoned, some condemned. Many of the Victorian-era homes on the side streets have been beautifully restored, but downtown is in need of rescue. Some of this is in progress – the beautiful 1905 old City Hall building has neared completion of its renovation and will soon host an Asian fusion restaurant, maybe not a fitting fate, but welcome if it keeps the history alive. I stopped off at the house of a cousin who was grilling in the back yard, and said, “I wish I had some garlic!” One of the bulbs from the festival provided the perfect kick for grilled oysters by the pool.

I highly recommend the Gilroy Garlic Festival for the atmosphere (which will have the distinctive aroma of garlic.) Just make sure you bring someone willing to kiss you afterwards!

Gilroy Garlic Festival
Christmas Hill Park
7050 Miller Avenue
Gilroy, California 95020
GPS coordinates:  36°59′49.52″N 121°35′3.86″W

See images of the Gilroy Garlic Festival in Gilroy, California

The largest spiny lobster returns to the Florida Keys

North Dakota is home to a fair number of the world’s largest beasts (at least in sculpture form), but Florida vies for runner-up status with several oversized local carnivores. Two of the more impressive are separated by almost 300 miles of U.S. Route 1 – Betsey (a contender for the title of world’s largest lobster) and Swampy (undeniably the world’s largest alligator).

Betsey was originally commissioned by a Florida restaurant in the 1980s and sculpted by local artist Richard Blaze out of fiberglass and metal. The restaurant went out of business prior to the work being completed, but was purchased by Tom Vellanti for his display outside his Treasure Village shops in Islamorada. Treasure Village itself had an interesting history – it was formerly Art McKee’s Treasure Museum, a place where diver and shipwreck recovery expert Art McKee displayed the treasures reclaimed from the sea. Betsey had stood guard for several decades until Treasure Village’s owner died in 2007; shortly afterwards Treasure Village was converted to a Montessori school and Betsey was dismantled and stored for sale on eBay.  Early in 2009, Mike Forster (owner of The Rain Barrel Artisan Village across from Treasure Village) purchased Betsey and began rebuilding her across the highway from where she formerly stood. At 35 feet long 25 feet tall, Betsey is a competitor in the category of World’s Largest Lobster, but faces strong competition from a lobster in Shediac, New Brunswick made of reinforced concrete. Although the Shediac lobster is the same length and shorter in height, they may be counting the sculpture’s base in the total size. Regardless, it is safe to say Betsey is the world’s largest spiny lobster, since the Shediac lobster is representative of an American (alternately Maine) lobster. Betsey’s visibility along U.S. Route 1 in the Florida Keys is assured for at least another decade, so don’t start heating the swimming pool and melting a bathtub of butter quite yet.

Swampy the Gator (largest alligator in the world)

Swampy has little competition for title of the World’s Largest Alligator – the second place entry from Kissimmee’s JungleLand comes up 74 feet short of Swampy’s impressive 200-foot length. Swampy’s birth appears to be shrouded in mystery – Jungle Adventures states he was built in 1992, but some structural alterations were made when JungleLand sued, stating Swampy bore too close a resemblance to their gator. More of a building than a sculpture, Swampy houses Jungle Adventure’s ticket window and offices – tickets for the park are purchased by braving Swampy’s open, toothy mouth. The park has wild animals on display on an island and around the perimeter of a pond filled with alligators. At $20, admission to see animals that can attack you for free in the Everglades may seem a bit pricey, but if your goal is to see Swampy, don’t fret – he stands guard over the parking lot and can be accessed free of charge. Swampy and the park are located in Christmas, Florida, approximately 30 miles east of Orlando, but while you’re there consider visiting the post office. The post office is famous for processing postcards and letters with a “Christmas” post mark – they also have stickers and will ink your hand with a Christmas stamp on request. Seems like the ideal place to mail your postcard of Swampy from.

It is always Christmas at the Christmas, Florida post office

When considering a trip to Florida, consider an alternative to the Disney World / Universal Islands of Adventure tourist prison camps and take a driving trip across the real Florida. Stop to see the roadside oddities along the way, have some fried alligator and conch chowder and return home with something besides mouse ears and an empty wallet.

Betsey the Lobster
at The Rain Barrel Artisan Village
86700 Overseas Hwy.
Islamorada, FL 33036
GPS coordinates:  24°57′32.87″N 80°34′16.56″W

Swampy the Gator
at Jungle Adventures Nature Park & Zoo
26205 East Colonial Drive (State Road 50)
Christmas, Florida 32709
GPS coordinates: 28°32′17.51″N  80°58′37.81″W

U.S. Post Office
23580 E. Colonial Drive
Christmas, FL 32709-9771
GPS coordinates: 28°32′9.62″N 81° 1′10.45″W

A delicious Macsween haggis from Waitrose supermarket

Although I had been to the UK many times before, I had never tried haggis; I seriously felt I was missing out on something. I was in Slough, UK to interview a candidate for an open position in the company I worked for at the time, and mentioned the omission in my list of unusual food after offering him the job. To get to the Slough office, I boarded the Number 81 bus, passing through the Brunel Bus Station (just like on the opening of the British version of “The Office”). For anyone who has not been to Slough, it is a city just east of London that has been appropriately replaced in the NBC version of “The Office” with Scranton, Pennsylvania. William Herschel, the astronomer who discovered Uranus was not born there, but he did die there. It was deemed such a miserable city that the BBC did a mini-series as a social experiment called “Making Slough Happy.” Slough is like a small Midwest industrial city trapped in the 1970s – there’s a Slough Museum on High Street that could take up a tidy little 10 minutes on your lunch break. It is probably best known for the bleak John Betjeman poem, “Slough.”

The infamous bus station from "The Office"

On one particular day I encountered a gentleman wearing full kilt and regalia while boarding the bus. Looking like an expert in all things Scottish, I asked if he knew a good place in the area to get haggis. Unfortunately he was from Scotland, on his way to Windsor Castle to be honored by Queen Elizabeth on St. George’s Day, and was unaware of where to get haggis locally. I wondered silently why someone on his way to Windsor Castle to be honored by Queen Elizabeth would be taking the Number 81 bus, but I assumed there was a valid reason. We discussed the taste treat on our ride; haggis is traditionally made by mixing ground sheep organs (lungs, liver, heart, etc.) with oatmeal, onions and light spices (particularly black pepper) and then steaming it in a lamb’s stomach (possibly the same lamb who donated the organs). It is designated as the national dish of Scotland (immortalized by the famous Robert Burns poem, “Address to a Haggis”); however, it can be found all over the UK. It is eaten in mass quantities during the Burns Night supper celebrations on January 25 annually. The traveling Scotsman suggested that if I truly wanted to have haggis in traditional style, it should be eaten with “neeps and tatties” (turnip and potatoes, although I won’t even tell you what I was thinking that meant). He also suggested I “take a wee dram” (a small glass of fine Scotch) alongside, but the trick at hand seemed to be finding the elusive haggis. I don’t recall if he suggested wearing a kilt while eating it, but I left mine in my other suitcase.

Haggis - a taste from the pastures of heaven

By the end of the week I was convinced that my search for haggis was not going to bear fruit (or meat). On Thursday I planned lunch with the UK staff, and the new hire joined us. Nigel (what a great British name) arrived at the office with a bag from the Waitrose supermarket and handed it to me; inside were two haggis (haggi? hagisses?) that were pre-cooked and ready to microwave and enjoy. The company that makes the haggis (Macsween) cooks it traditionally, but in a non-organic skin rather than a sheep stomach. Although a haggis in an artificial skin heated in the microwave sounds like the farthest thing from traditional, it was a close as I had the opportunity to try. The taste was amazing, rich, earthy and flavorful. It was like a stout liver meatloaf, and I mean that in the best way. The strong flavor of the sheep organs were slightly subdued by the sweetness imparted by the oatmeal; the onions, pepper and spices gave it just the right amount of zest. It was a meal that brought to mind images of home and hearth, eating by the fire in a windswept Scottish cottage. I wanted to stand on the roof of the office tower and yell, “Freedom!” for all to hear (ala William Wallace), but I thought the citizens of Slough might think I was leading a helicopter exodus.

Just the name “haggis” conjures up images of some creature emanating from the murky depths of some Scottish loch, and the description doesn’t do the taste justice. If you have the opportunity to try it, overcome your fear and scoop up a rich forkful of Scotland’s favorite. If you like dirty rice, picture that flavor with four legs and multiply by 10, and you get somewhat of the idea of how haggis tastes. An old Scottish saying states, “He was a bold man who first ate a Haggis” – be the bold man (or woman) that gives it a try.

Waitrose Supermarket
37 King Edward Court
Windsor, Berkshire, SL4 1TF, UK
GPS coordinates: 51°28′54.87″N  0°36′38.75″W

See more images of Slough, UK and haggis

Read blog article of Val attending a Burns Supper

A chicken eye view of the pie judging in progress

Friend and fellow food blogger Eddie Lin posted on his blog (Deep End Dining) that he was going to be one of the judges of the 1st Annual Good Food Pie Contest (an all around optimistic title.) The nature of the contest wasn’t completely clear – visions of sugarplum pies danced in my head, then were hurled into someone’s face; I also envisioned a pie eating contest (always fun if a contestant overdoes it and causes a chain reaction of sympathy blowing of the groceries.) After reading through the information I deduced that this was a pie making contest and the only ones who had the potential of projectile vomiting were the judges, including food writers, bloggers and chefs. The real draw for me was the tantalizing come-hither of free pie (the crowd gets to devour the winners and losers). I could only imagine the diversity of pastry oddities contestants might come up with.

I could grab a pie and be past The Gap before they noticed

When I arrived at the Westfield Topanga Mall’s food court, a huge crowd was gathered around the velvet ropes, paper plates and plastic forks in hand. The contest had already started, and so I joined the crowd in eager anticipation of the names of the winning pies (who cares who baked them – tell us about those rich, decadent pies!) Judging was already underway, and it looked like the bakers, judges and crowd were all having a great time – hopefully KCRW will be able to pull off a 2nd Annual Good Food Pie Contest next year. I watched the slow process of tasting and judging – Eddie was taking sips of water in between forkfuls, presumably to assist in the pie consumption. I said a brief hello, but his face gave away that he was more stuffed than the animals mounted on the wall at the Buckhorn Exchange in Denver. I stood in eager anticipation while the winners and their creations were announced in different categories by Evan Kleiman, Master of Ceremonies and host of KCRW’s Good Food program and blog. I kept waiting – where was the durian pie? Certainly someone made kidney pie? Oh, the horror! Apple, pumpkin, chocolate cream, Boston crème – no! This can’t be (well, they did look good)!  My ears perked up at chicken tarragon, but that was as risqué as it got. Finally the winner (Barbara Treves) was announced – for her apple pie.

As promised, once the awards were given out, the flood gates were opened and a swarm of plastic fork-waving villagers stormed the pies like the general admission crowd at a Cincinnati Who concert. To be fair, the pie vultures were civilized and polite; I scanned the tables for something off the beaten path (or had been pulled off of it dead), but pie after luscious pie seemed to be made with the most traditional of ingredients. My reputation would not allow me to have a thick, sweet slab of prize-winning strawberry rhubarb, regardless of how mouthwatering delicious and flaky it looked, so I stood on the sidelines and caught up with Eddie. I asked how he was holding up and he said he felt like he was going to burst, adding that drinking the water in between helped keep all that pie down.

The sweet, meaty goodness of duck pie

We talked for a few minutes and a friend of his walked up with a pie covered in foil. She stated that nobody seemed to have an interest in it, and that she was taking her duck pie home. I had to confirm what I heard; “Excuse me – did you say DUCK pie?” I sheepishly extended my paper plate and asked for a slice. She suggested I take a slice from the un-mangled side of the pie, and there it sat on the plate, layers of orange, tan and brown sandwiched between a golden crust like some beautiful sedimentary rock formation. In went the fork and then a complex wave of flavor hit me. Duck can have a strong, almost sour taste, but the waterfowl in this pie was ground and took control of the bottom layer without the strong taste normally associated with duck. I deduced that the orange layer was sweet potato (it didn’t have the consistency or taste of pumpkin) and it added a sweetness that perfectly contrasted the duck. I thought to myself that this would be the perfect pie to serve on Thanksgiving – you could have your meal and desert at the same time. Come to think of it, warm, tart cranberries on top would be a nice touch. I was totally in my comfort zone, quietly enjoying this unusual pie, and I complemented the baker on her creation. 

Perhaps I’ll enter a pie next year, if for nothing else to hear a judge say, “Excuse me – are those ears sticking out of the crust?”

Westfield Topanga Mall
6600 Topanga Canyon Blvd
Canoga Park, CA 91303
GPS coordinates:  34°11′24.13″N 118°36′12.32″W

See more images of KCRW’s 1st Annual Good Food Pie Contest

See Eddie Lin’s Deep End Dining post on the pie contest

Centennial Bulb, shine a light on me

In 1901, U.S. President William McKinley was assassinated, succeeded by Theodore Roosevelt; Guglielmo Marconi made the first transatlantic radio broadcast; the first Nobel Prize was awarded; and, oil was discovered at Spindletop in Beaumont, Texas. Also this year, a hand-blown, 4-watt electric light bulb was installed in the ceiling of the firehouse at L Street in Livermore, California. What makes the installation of this bulb noteworthy is that it is still used today, over 108 years later, making it the longest burning bulb in the world. On its 100th birthday it was dubbed “The Centennial Bulb.” Finding it is a little tricky; essentially you have to be on your way somewhere else to get to it. As historic as it is, it is best attempted as a side trip, perhaps on a trip between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Livermore is relatively large, with Interstate 580 running right through it. A couple of turns off the interstate and you are there, at Fire Station 6. This is the bulb’s third and presumed final home (and yes, it was off while it was moved). The station generally isn’t busy; if the garage door is open where the fire trucks are housed, walk right in – they’re expecting you. You will likely be greeted with “You’re here to see the light?” The crew is friendly and helpful, but if you hear alarm bells, it would be prudent to get out of the way. 

Me and my wife Claudia beneath the Centennial Bulb

The bulb hangs near the right wall high up on the ceiling; at 4 watts, it’s barely as bright as a night light. A small American flag is attached to a pipe just below in case you’re having difficulty identifying the clear glass bulb amidst the rows of fluorescent fixtures. The firemen on duty are quick to tell you that depending on which way you stand, the lit filament spells out either “ON” or “NO” – for maximum impact, go for the “ON” view. You are encouraged to sign the guest book (which I doubt is over 100 years old) on a shelf below plaques and certificates confirming the bulb’s authenticity. The firemen will even take your picture when requested with the bulb in the background (a difficult task given the height of the ceiling). 

A timeline shows events in the first 100 years of the bulb

A similar bulb in Fort Worth, Texas just hit the 100 year mark itself, but the Centennial Bulb still maintains the record and is the first bulb to break the 100 year mark. From a historic standpoint it is worth the diversion, but be sure to go during normal hours as you may not be able to get access after hours (although you can see it through the window). There is also a doorbell you can ring to get someone’s attention, but keep in mind it is a working firehouse. Unless you show up at a ridiculous hour of the night or the crew is preparing to respond to an alarm, you will most likely be cordially invited in. You can rest assured, like Motel 6, they’ll leave the light on for you. 

The Centennial Bulb
Fire Station 6
4550 East Ave
Livermore, California 94550
GPS coordinates: 37°40′48.69″N 121°44′22.14″W

More images from the Centennial Bulb in Livermore, California

Eating a scorpion pop with my I Ate A Bug Club button on

Nothing bugs me worse than offering someone a tasty insect snack, only to have them cry out in disgust before they even taste them. Throughout history, eating insects has not only been a means of survival (they are generally low in fat and high in protein), but also a rare, expensive or hard-to-find delicacy. Deciding what types of insects to eat and where to find them can be tricky business. Regardless of whether or not they are poisonous, insects found in the city are generally not a good snack choice, since they are besieged by pesticides and exposed to biological material of questionable origin or quality.

A can of silkworm pupae, or fish food, or bird feed - whatever.

Before you hang your head in sorrow and call off your planned dumpster dive, rejoice! Edible insects can be easily purchased if you simply look around. I will briefly talk about the insects I mentioned previously but will share my culinary adventures with each in separate articles. Don’t go Roger Maris on that bee hive hanging from the neighbor’s tree; it will hurt a lot and I doubt you’ll be happy with the result. No doubt you’ve seen tequila with a maguey worm (actually a moth larva) in the bottle; in parts of Mexico, in the Oaxaca region, these are roasted and eaten without the tequila, a delicious and nutritious source of protein. The “worms” found in those tequila-flavored lollipops we all know and love are actually mealworms, the larva of the darkling beetle and staple for reptile pets across America. A co-worker had offered me a handful of BBQ flavored roasted mealworms, and after crunching down on them for a few moments, I decided that I would devour a bag of these little critters before I ever touch another Cheeto. They were crunchy and slightly salty, and would complement a nice oatmeal stout perfectly. Get out the credit card, I’m buying in bulk!

Not very daring - this was probably my 60th ant

 The Colombian leaf cutter ants are hard to come by in this country, but these, too, would be an ideal bar snack. Their size makes them a little intimidating, but the taste is worth getting past the fear factor. For the squeamish, the ideal entry-level ant snack is chocolate covered ants. Surrounded by chocolate, they almost taste like raisins and are readily available on-line. Also available on-line and covered in chocolate are crickets. Fluker Farms specializes in raising insects for zoo animals and pets (predominately reptiles and amphibians), however they also sell individually wrapped chocolate covered crickets. In each plastic bag is a gold foil-wrapped piece of milk chocolate with an individual roasted cricket inside. Also in the bag is a button that lets everyone know you’ve joined the “I Ate a Bug Club” – be sure to wear it proudly. The crickets seem to lose their taste entombed in the chocolate, but the sensation of getting the tiny legs stuck in your teeth provides that jolt of reality. Since the cricket’s taste is muted, they’re pretty easy to eat, but personally I found the chocolate not to my liking. Perhaps they should give Godiva a ring and work something out.

Scorpions and silkworm larvae can be scary food. Scorpions are readily available encased in lollipops like their slithering caterpillar nephews and available on line or at gift shops “out west”. I had to endure artificially green apple-flavored maltitol candy to get to the object of my affection – the little brown scorpion. Being a purist, I tried to get all the candy off the arachnid before savoring it. I can’t begin to tell you how difficult it is to suck all the candy off, leaving the scorpion intact. Despite my success, either the fake green apple flavor killed the taste of the scorpion it or was simply a tasteless crunchy center. At a Oaxacan restaurant I had scorpion mescal, which had scorpions floating in the bottom of the bottle. The drunken arthropods had a somewhat bitter taste, and I’m assuming the mescal did them no good at all. Silkworm larvae are another story completely, and so I’ll leave you to read through the drama of devouring these moth feti in the article devoted to them.

Just a forkfull of insects helps the Oaxacan go down

After desperately trying to find chapulines (grasshoppers) without having to fly to Oaxaca, Mexico, I finally found a restaurant that serves them up in generous quantities.  The taste is a world apart from crickets, but you’ll have to read the blog article for the full story. I’m always on the lookout for other insects to try, so if you hear of any, let me know what the buzz is all about.

See more of Val’s images of insects as food

See Val’s blog post on eating hormigas culonas (leaf cutter ants)

See Val’s blog post on eating crickets and scorpions

See Val’s blog post on eating beondegi (silkworm pupae)

See Val’s blog post on eating chapulines (grasshoppers)

House of Blues welcomes 80s legends Stryper

When you’re planning a trip, how often can you make the destination the 1980s? Stryper’s 25th Anniversary Tour afforded just such an opportunity. Stryper entered a genre (glam metal) better defined by sex, drugs and rock and roll than Christianity, but they took it and made it their own. Their videos were put in regular rotation on MTV (does anyone remember when MTV used to play music videos?) alongside the likes of Mötley Crüe, Poison and Ratt and enjoyed airplay and record sales, quite an accomplishment for a band with a religious message – they paved the way for a wider audience for Christian music.

Kenny Lewis (good friend and former drummer for several bands I sang with in the 1980s and early 90’s) informed be that he was going to be in Southern California as soundman for the Stryper tour, and I took the opportunity to spend some time with him and bother him while he was working. House of Blues in Anaheim seemed like the logical place to see the show – a glam metal band, playing in a venue that’s supposed to look like a giant Deep-South roadhouse, at “the happiest place on earth®” (where old Walt apparently invented illusion) – definitely falls under the ‘trippy” category. Keep in mind that you will need to take out a small loan for parking unless you pay attention. Parking at Downtown Disney is $6 per hour (charged in 20-minute increments) up to a maximum of $36 (which is easy to attain if you show up early and stay until the end of the show), but read the fine print – the first three hours are free, and the next two are free if you get validated (which House of Blues does.) I showed up very early – so early, in fact that Will Call didn’t have my tickets ready. Kenny came out and got me and brought me in to wait at the sound booth until the ticket window opened. The fun part of this was watching how a show gets set up; I tried not to bother Kenny too much while he did the sound check, and I certainly wasn’t going to touch the board. Michael Sweet, guitarist and lead vocalist did an extremely thorough test of all the microphones, monitors and speakers – the rest of the band appeared to do a cursory check of their instruments in a fraction of the time.

Me and friend, drummer and soundman Kenny Lewis

After sound was done they let fans in that had paid extra to meet the band, get pictures and autographs, and be treated to a run through of a couple of songs with the band in their street clothes. I wondered if they would be shaking the dust out of their signature yellow and black striped Spandex outfits for the show, but I’d have to wait to find out. The sound check sounded good, but Kenny told me that Michael Sweet was feeling ill and was going to have a difficult time singing – I have to take his word for it since it’s his job to know how to make the band sound good. After the last fan left, I walked out behind them to get my tickets, still wearing my camera. Important safety tip – unless you dropped some serious cash and signed away your life in blood for a media pass, you are not going to get into House of Blues with a professional-looking camera; it just isn’t going to happen. After dropping my camera off at the car, I waited in line for the doors to open and reunited with Kenny at the sound booth.

80s glam metal band Stryper performing in street clothes

Stryper eventually took to the stage with a more updated look – gone was the big hair (with the exception of drummer Robert Sweet), and the Spandex of old (although they still dressed in black and yellow.) Sweet connected with the audience which resulted in an overwhelming show of support. The house was packed, hot and sweaty, but I felt safe from a stampede behind the sound board. The band was tight, and excelled in vocal harmonies (everyone sang except the drummer, and a guy named Charles played keyboards and sang backing vocals from offstage.) Sweet had a few rough spots where he let the audience sing some lines, but still showed a strong range. The band did a wide range of music from their 25-year history and added a metal version of Boston’s “Piece of Mind” that was a departure from the original version (Sweet filled in for the late Brad Delp on the last Boston tour).  Of course it wouldn’t be a Stryper show if the audience doesn’t get pelted with mini-bibles; oh yes, it’s all in good fun until someone loses an eye.
 After the show, Kenny gave me a wrist band that would give me backstage access; I used it to help the road crew break down and load out, which I have to say was a great experience. The whole crew was great, and everybody treated each other with respect and welcomed me as if I were a regular crew member. I had donated an afro wig to Shaggy (the bus driver) by request of some of the crew, and he not only got called out on stage to put it on, he wore it for most of the time we were loading up the truck. It brought back memories of loading out back in my rock days back in Boston, but when all was loaded at 1 AM, I just wanted to go home and sleep. My car was the only one left in the parking lot – I drove out of the open gates, and although it might not have been the happiest place on earth, it sure was a lot of fun.

House of Blues
1530 S Disneyland Drive
Anaheim, CA 92802-2319
GPS coordinates:  33°48′34.35″N 117°55′22.90″W

See more images of Stryper at House of Blues in Anaheim, CA