Tag Archives: Food

TG ’24

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I did it again. I dunno, maybe I’m in a rut. I see that last year I had thoughts of Thanksgiving dinner at an Ohio or Indiana state park but waited too long to make reservations. I wrote that only the meal, and not an overnight stay, was actually considered for Ohio so maybe the lodges had already priced themselves out of contention. They certainly had this year, which made me drop them from consideration for the meal so quickly that I can’t say whether or not I would have been too late. But I did pick an Indiana park and I did make a call only to learn that the meal was sold out. Thankfully, Kentucky was there for me once again. BTW, one way of producing a washed-out photo such as this is to grab a camera last used for shooting in the dark and start snapping away without so much as a glance at sensitivity settings and such.

I again picked a park I had never been to in a part of the state that I was pretty unfamiliar with as well. Buckhorn Lake State Resort Park lies about 75 crow miles southeast of Lexington. I decided to reach Lexington on a semi-official Dixie Highway alignment, then head to the park on new-to-me back roads. I feared that the Log Cabin Inn would be closed on Thanksgiving Day but it was serving breakfast and had a sold-out dinner planned for later. Today I learned that the dog-trot cabin that forms the oldest part of the restaurant was moved here from Bardstown in the late 1800s. There’s a giant fireplace in each half of the original cabin and some good advice over the bar.

I called this section of Dixie Highway that passes through Falmouth, KY, while connecting Cincinnati and Lexington, “semi-official” because it was included as an alternate path then the Dixie Highway Association disbanded before an official choice was made between it and the original alignment through Florence, KY. Most of the route has been taken over by KY-17 and US-27 and become quite modern looking but some still looks much like it did when it was the DH. Some of the locals seemed mildly interested in my passing, though others could not care less.

That 75 crow miles between Lexington and Buckhorn Lake State Park became a little more than 110 road miles most of which looked like this. I thoroughly enjoyed the drive but there was near-constant — mostly quite light — rain and I did not take many pictures.

My scheduling was far from precise but at one point it looked like I was going to reach the park with nearly an hour to spare. Then I missed a turn. By the time I realized it and backtracked, all my cushion was gone. I reached the lodge at 3:31 for my 3:30 — last of the day — seating. The girl at the desk correctly guessed my name and I hurried downstairs to the dining room. The platters weren’t overflowing but there was still plenty of turkey, ham, and catfish plus most of the trimmings. Stuffing, it seems, had been depleted before I got there. I avoided a more significant disappointment with a preemptive strike. The dessert area was in full view from my table with the pie table filled with pumpkin and pecan pie when I sat down. At some point, I looked over to see the pumpkin pie side still well populated with just one piece of pecan left. I altered my plans just a bit to park that piece of pecan pie beside my plate while I finished the rest of my meal.

I now had time to check into my room in the lodge. It included a balcony which I’m sure offered a very nice view during warmer months. In late November, it simply let me verify that the pool was closed for the season and so too, apparently, was the lake.

Of course, it was too cold to sit on that balcony and really too cold to explore the park. I did return to the lobby to grab a shot of the Christmas tree and a clearer view of the lake at “low tide”.

As I headed out in the morning, I did a little exploring in the warm dry car which suited me much better than on foot in yesterday’s cold and damp. I’ve assumed that the low lake is an annual thing but don’t really know that and wish now that I had asked. I did not see any black bears but did read the instructions. I did see some other visitors. Only a few rooms were occupied in the lodge last night but a whole bunch of cabins had at least one car parked nearby. State parks are a pretty good place for families to spend holidays.

Then it was quite a few more miles of the sort of road that finished up yesterday but without the rain. One of these pictures was taken inside the Daniel Boone National Forest and the other just outside it. Hard to tell the difference, eh?

Breakfast was in Hazard at France’s Diner. Good food, good people, and a little local history on the walls.

I finally made it to the Mother Goose Inn in Hazard. It was built as a market and has been a store, a B&B, and a private residence but I couldn’t tell you what it is now.

I backtracked just a little from Hazard to pick up the Hal Rogers Parkway and head back into the Daniel Boone National Forest. I left it at London to head north on the Dixie Highway. Following one DH alignment to Lexington to start the trip then taking the DH back to Lexington and following another alignment back to Cincinnati seemed rather natural to me but it makes that Kentucky Thanksgiving rut I mentioned a little more obvious. Two years ago, I didn’t even do a Thanksgiving meal but spent the day driving this pair of DH alignments in Kentucky. The blog entry is here.

I paused to take a picture from the Clay’s Ferry Overlook and another at the 1871 bridge below. I contacted owner Jay Webb when I realized I would be coming by the overlook and, although we did not connect today, I do think we will be meeting here around Christmas.

Just a few miles north of the river, a large brontosaurus stands alone in an empty field watching traffic. About a quarter mile away, a smaller version uses a shed as a viewing platform. I assume they are somehow connected but what they are watching for is a mystery.

When I drove these two Dixie Highway alignments in 2022, I did them in the reverse order but that’s not the only difference. I could not cross the Roebling suspension bridge southbound because it was closed for a foot race that has since relocated to TQL Stadium. I did not cross it northbound because a slight detour prompted me to abandon the DH in the dark. This year, it was the historic Dixie Highway and the even more historic John A. Roebling Bridge both going and coming.

Goetta Again

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GoettaFest is that eight-day festival that is spread over two four-day weekends with a gap in the middle. Two years ago I made it to the first day of the first weekend. This year I made it — just barely — to the first day of the second weekend. I knew of the festival’s opening last week but had other things to do. When I did get around to thinking about this week’s itinerary, the predicted weather did not seem a very good match for outdoor activities. Several days of rain were predicted with possibly severe thunderstorms arriving just about the time of the festival’s opening. But, as opening time approached, those storms and even the rain were still marking time in Indiana. I decided to give it a try.

The Ferris wheel is new this year and “The World’s Only Goetta Vending Machine” might be too. I did not try it and now regret not studying it closer so I could describe it here. I believe this is the world’s only Goetta festival so one Goetta vending machine might be enough.

I have previously explained that the Cincinnati area has a near monopoly on Goetta and that Glier’s Meats has a near monopoly on Goetta in the Cincinnati area. The festival is officially the Glier’s GoettaFest. Next to the vending machine, there is a tent filled with Giier and Goetta information. The tent is a Goettafest fixture and I’m sure that the “Goetta Guy” has been here before but this was our first meeting. The “Goetta Guy” is Dan Glier, President of Glier’s Meats since 1977 and the second generation to run the company. Dan’s a very friendly fellow who is there to answer questions or just chat and that’s what we did. I was well aware that Glier’s Meats is located sort of across the street from Anchor Grill where I’ve consumed a fair amount of Gliers Goetta. Today Dan pointed out that the two began in the same year (1946) and have always been neighbors.

Here are a couple of other things that I had not seen previously but which may very well have been here before. I didn’t see anyone riding the mechanical bull while I was there but it was early and the bourbon bar was pretty much idle too. I suspect the two work well together.

Full-time music was happening on both of the festival’s stages with the Billy Brown Band opening on the west end and Red Hot Riot opening on the east stage. They would be followed by Vinyl Countdown and the Kevin McCoy Band.

Of course, there were plenty of food booths offering a variety of creative Goetta-based treats.

I opted for a Goetta Bun Link which, despite the word new on the sign and the fact that I’d never had one, were introduced in 2000. It was quite good and I even have a pseudo-drone shot for the truly curious.

I had every intention of riding that Ferris wheel and, now that I was fed, I turned my attention to it. There was no line but as I was about to approach the ticket booth, I felt the first drops of rain and noticed the breeze had picked up a little. I thought it over only briefly before heading for the car. I was inside the garage before the rain became steady and inside a nearby bar with a $2 PBR before it really cut loose. There was water running in the street when I left but the rain had slowed to a light drizzle.

I am disappointed that I missed my chance to ride the big Ferris wheel on Thursday but just seeing it reminded me of a time when giant “dueling” Ferris wheels were proposed for both sides of the Ohio River. It was just a few years ago that Newport, KY, had plans to build a 230-foot tall wheel on the flood wall near where GoettaFest’s 90-foot wheel was placed. At the same time, Cincinnati had plans to build a 180-foot wheel near the north end of the Roebling Bridge. In a sort of trial run, a 150-foot tall (137-foot diameter) wheel did operate at that point temporarily and I did get to ride that one. Read about it here.

Wassup, Big Boy?

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Frisch’s Big Boy restaurants have been in the news quite a bit recently. In fact, when I sat down to write this article yesterday, a pointer to this photo essay was waiting in my email. It seems likely that the essay, like this article and my Friday outing, was inspired by not particularly cheerful reports such as this one from a few weeks ago. It was that article and other news of restaurant closings that prompted me to finally check out the museum that opened in 2018 inside Frisch’s Mainliner.

The Mainliner, Cincinnati’s first year-round drive-in, opened in 1942 and was named for an airplane. Several sources, including the Mainliner’s own signage, identify that airplane as a tri-motor but I think not. The plane that those sources are almost certainly referring to is the Ford Trimotor which was produced from 1922 to 1933. Boeing’s DC-3, which United Air Lines actually called the Mainliner when launched in 1937, would have been the most well-known passenger plane when the restaurant opened. The plane on the iconic Mainliner sign certainly looks a lot more like a DC-3 than a Ford Trimotor, and, despite the nose being a little extra pointy, I’m not aware of it ever having more than two propellers. At present it has none. I do, however, have a short video of the sign “at speed” from a few years ago. I’m sure there are more and better videos online.

The Mainliner was remodeled when the museum went in and has the latest generation of the Big Boy statue standing by the door. There are pictures here and here of previous generations on display a few miles away at the American Sign Museum. A cool mural greets customers right inside that door.

I sat at the counter and placed my order before walking over to the museum area. Only then did I realize that it contained what appeared to be some quite usable classic seating areas. There were people at one of the museum tables when I left.

In addition to the throwback seating, there are several signs and cabinets filled with artifacts in the museum. Among the artifacts was a reminder that once upon a time people might look for something to help them “dial the right number every time”.

I was probably still using a dial telephone the last time I had a Big Boy but it seemed the right thing to order today. Has corporate ownership brought a decline in quality that others say they see? Maybe, but maybe not. The sandwich was pretty much as I remember it although my memories aren’t very recent. I sensed the same slight understaffing that I feel in just about every restaurant I visit these days. No more. No less.

As I wrote this, it occurred to me that Frisch’s has been in my life longer than any chain restaurant. Although it’s no longer there, a Frisch’s restaurant sat at the edge of the seat of my home county. It was the place where, maybe once a year, the band bus would stop on the way home from an away game. When my friends and I began driving, it marked one end of our Saturday night cruising route. An A&W rootbeer stand marked the other. When I got my first co-op job in college, a Frisch’s was just about the only place within walking distance for lunch. The one at right is within walking distance of my current home and I stopped there on my Saturday afternoon walk. Rather than a Big Boy statue, this door is guarded by one of the Mr. Redlegs sculptures that were placed around the area as part of the Cincinnati Reds 150th Anniversary Celebration in 2019. Inside, a localized (Mason hosts the Cincinnati Open ATP Tournament) mural hangs on the wall. A big reason that I had not had a Big Boy in so long was not that I never patronize Frisch’s but that when I do I almost always have a fish sandwich. On Saturday I reverted to form.

I’m certainly no fan of corporations taking over privately held businesses. Maybe it was a decline in quality or some accountant’s idea of improved efficiency that led to those closures. Personally though, I’m more concerned about those missing props on the Mainliner sign.

CincItalia 2024

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It looks like CincItalia came into being in 2010 so it is not an ancient Cincinnati tradition I need to feel guilty about not attending in years gone by. But it was something I was aware of and thought sounded interesting so I was kind of pleased when things worked out for me on Friday. Yes, it is a church fundraiser and that is something I’m trying to cut back on but I realize that my flesh is entirely too weak to completely avoid a little backsliding now and then.

One of my first stops at the festival was in a large building where some presentations take place and where a couple of culturally significant items are displayed. One is a Sicilian Festival Cart from Palermo, Italy, described by the sign propped against it. The other is a plaster cast used in replacing a bronze statue stolen from Cincinnati’s Eden Park in 2022 as summarized on a nearby sign. A fuller telling is here. A photo of the currently displayed statue is here.

I was here for my evening meal and thought of it as essentially just another dining-out occasion and not so much as a wild festival. With that in mind, I made one “browsing” pass through the area identified in the opening photo as “Little Eataly” and then selected my three-course meal.

Toasted ravioli made a great appetizer and lasagna was perfect for the main course. That’s CincItalia Pils, brewed by West Side Brewing especially for this event, in the cup. Mini-cannolis were three for the price of two. I forced myself.

Plus there were plenty of food and beverage choices that I did not get around to.

No self-respecting Cincinnati church festival would omit several raffles and other games of chance but that’s another thing I did not get around to. I did poke my head into one of the cooking demonstrations but it was full and I’m pretty sure it would have been over my head anyway.

I definitely enjoyed the many “Leonardo’s Fun Facts” that I spotted but I know that I missed a bunch.

Even though I was there, as I’ve said, only for the food, I did stick around for a bit of the Naked Karate Girls show. These guys are definitely entertaining and one or two of them may even know some karate. If so, that would mean their name isn’t a complete lie.

The festival is a three-day affair with Saturday and Sunday presented as family-friendly events. I assume that means, among other things, that the carnival-style rides I saw parked around the edges will be operating. Saturday runs 3:00 to 11:00 and Sunday runs 1:00 to 9:00. Friday’s 6:00 to 12:00 run was billed as adults only but I’m not sure whether that meant a wild Bacchanalia throughout the grounds, some dirty jokes from the bandstand, or old folks nodding off at sundown. I left before I found out and before I nodded off.

ADDENDUM 2-Jun-2024: These photos were not part of the original post but, after tagging a Facebook link to it with the line “There’s a party on the Buddy LaRosa side of town.”, I thought them appropriate. Yes, LaRosa’s Pizza had a trailer there and San Antonio Church had a booth. That’s the church where Buddy sold his first pizzas using sauce made from his Aunt Dena’s recipe.

A Secular Season of the Fish

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Partway through last year’s Lenten season, I decided that I no longer wanted to support the Catholic (or any other) Church by patronizing their Friday Fish Fries. I explain that decision at the end of Another Season of the Fish. I still like fish and therefore still like fish fries and I am more than happy to support the many non-religious organizations that take advantage of the season by operating their own piscatorial-powered fundraisers.

Between the first and second weeks of Lent 2024, I discovered a Cincinnati Fish Fry app, similar to the one I recently used for Inaugural Cincinnati Chili Week. My unaudited count of the listed sites identified 54 churches, 16 commercial operations, and 17 others. The “others”, of course, were my targets.

I began the 2024 season at American Legion Post 513 in Mt. Healthy, Ohio, where catfish and cod were both available. I went with the catfish. This tasty meal was $11 plus $2.25 for the Yuengling draft.

The second week’s fish was a bit more expensive than last week’s but the meal included one of the biggest pieces of cod I have ever seen. Everything in the picture plus a piece of chocolate cake was $17 at Cincinnati Shriner’s.

Plans for the evening ruled out a week three fish fry dinner so I decided to do lunch at a place I’ve frequently thought of visiting in the past. This is the McDonald’s location where the first filet-o-fish sandwich was served. It is also Ohio’s first McDonald’s and my only stop at a commercial restaurant this year. Although the location was listed in the Cincinnati Fish Fry app, the app refused to let me check in here. That original filet-o-fish sold for 29¢. My tab was $9.48 but I did get fries and a drink.

My second Americal Legion visit this year was at Post 318 in Anderson Township, Ohio. The pie added $2.50 to the total. Without it, my only baked fish (cod) meal of the season would have been an even $12 including the drink (iced tea).

Week number five had me venturing across a state line to the Wilder Fire Department in Wilder, Kentucky. Fish, shrimp, and chicken were available with no options other than white or rye bread (which I declined). The entire meal, including the green (because it was almost Saint Patrick’s Day) beer and an unphotographed piece of cake with green (because… you know) icing, was $14.

For the second week in a row, I was in Kentucky and drinking Bud Light. Last week’s green Bud was only $1. This week’s yellow Bud was $2. The rest of the meal at Newport Elks Lodge #273 was $13 and it just might be the best of the year.

Lent officially ends on the Thursday preceding Good Friday. Many institutions wrap up their fish fry operations before the Easter weekend is reached but enough don’t to make a seven-week season of fish easily accomplished. I finished my 2024 seven-week run with this $12 meal at Gaily VFW Post 7340. Food is ordered at a central location then hand-delivered so you need to find a seat before ordering to supply a table number. A couple sitting alone welcomed me to their table. A lady in a wheelchair soon occupied the spot to my left and she was immediately greeted by several locals who were delighted to see her. I never did catch her name but learned that she was 100 years old then learned through personal experience just how peppy and friendly she was. She told me she had been coming to the post since its founding in the 1950s. I admitted that this was my first time there but promised to come back to see her next year. Now I have something to look forward to.

Inaugural Cincinnati Chili Week

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Today, February 25, 2024, is the very last day of the very first official Cincinnati Chili Week. With all the noise that has been made about this iconic Cincinnati food over the years, it is really hard to believe that this did not happen long ago. While waiting, I had my own “Chili Week” in 2013. Because I was in control, I synchronized it with this blog’s schedule and got in visits to seven different chili parlors for Chili All Week and It’s Cold, Too. With the official Chili Week week running Monday through Sunday, one day remains when the Sunday morning post is published but that also means it can include only six days of chili.

Eleven years is a long time ago. Of the dozen chili parlors covered in that 2013 post and a follow-on 5 More 4s second chapter, four have closed and another has relocated a block away. Three of the closures were of a brand’s only location and three brands that were part of my 2013 dozen have chosen not to participate. The result is that exactly six of the dozen chili brands I wrote about in 2013 were candidates for visits during the six days of Cincinnati Chili Week preceding this post. Coincidence? Perhaps, but, despite being saddened by the closures, I’m happy to be spared the need for tough choices for the official version of my unofficial Chili Week.

Monday: In 2013, the Monday of my full week of chili saw me at one of the two Empress Chili parlors that remained. That location has since closed so this year I headed to Empress Chili in Alexandria, KY. Other restaurants in the area serve Empress brand chili but this is the only place where the restaurant itself carries the Empress name. Their slogan, “The first edition of a Cincinnati Tradition” comes from the fact that Cincinnati-style chili originated in the Empress Chili parlor on Vine Street in 1922.

Tuesday: An article that mentioned Price Hill Chili was the seed that led to the 2013 week of chili and it is where I ate on the Sunday that got that week rolling. That was my first time ever at the restaurant but I’ve been back multiple times since then and was happy to make it my second stop for the first official Cincinnati Chili Week.

Wednesday: The spread of Cincinnati chili across the region began when an Empress Chili employee set up shop in an 8 by 30-foot space across the river in Newport, KY. The original, but greatly expanded, Dixie Chili location is still in operation and two more restaurants have been added. Today, owner Spiros Sarakatsannis ate lunch (chili & salad) and conducted a little business at a nearby table while I enjoyed my third 4-way of the week.

I went overboard on Wednesday and indulged in dessert while in Kentucky. In the same spirit that area sweet shops have served macarons and beignets disguised as hamburgers during Burger Week, Frosthaus, in Covington, served this sundae disguised as a 3-way. I had no idea that spaghetti ice cream even existed but apparently, it is fairly common in Germany and it’s the perfect basis for a Chili Week dessert.

Thursday: Cincinnati Chili Week is wrapped around National Chili Day and this is it. I celebrated the doubly special occasion at Blue Ash Chili. In April 2021, the store where it all started in 1969 was closed and the operation moved about 500 feet away to this strip mall location. It’s not as photogenic as the standalone building was but it looks great on the inside and the chili is just as good as it ever was. My standard order is a 4-way with onions but that’s a stock 3-way in the picture because that’s their Chili Week special.

Friday: There’s a lot to like about Camp Washington Chili including the fact that it is just a few blocks away from the American Sign Museum which makes it the perfect stop before or after a visit to the museum. I followed my fifth Chili Week check-in with a stop at the museum where I could hear sawing or grinding on the other side of the wall as work on the expansion area continues.

Saturday: Even though Cincinnati Chili Week promotional materials say there are 50+ Gold Star locations taking part in the event, I had my sixth and final 4/3-way of the week at the same one I visited for that 2013 blog post. At around two miles distance from my door, it’s the closest.

Skyline Chili is the 140-store gorilla that’s not in the room. According to event organizers, “They opted not to participate as they did not want to discount or offer a $5-$7 special.” I doubt the absence does much harm to the company and it did simplify my schedule for the week. C’est la vie.

TG ’23

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At one time, possibilities for Thanksgiving dinner included an Indiana state lodge with an overnight stay and an Ohio state lodge without. I dithered just a little too long, however, and both were completely filled before I made my calls. So I hastily put together a Plan C which involved an overnight stay in a Kentucky state lodge. That ‘C’ could stand for “cave” or “Carter” or both. Carter Caves State Resort Park was my destination as I crossed the Ohio River. 

Most of the miles I drove in Kentucky were on KY‑9 which roughly parallels the Ohio River although it is usually at some distance. It’s a pretty nice-looking drive but the low morning sun and the mostly eastern bearing were no help at all in photographing the scenery. After just under a hundred miles of KY-9, Garmin had me turn south on KY-2 where the sun was less intrusive and the scenery possibly even better as the road ran along Buffalo Creek. After a few miles of KY-2, the GPS directed me onto KY-7 and then, barely a mile later, onto Sutton Road. Sutton Road soon became gravel. With my destination just a few miles away, I saw no reason for concern…

…until I reached a T. The road to the right was marked with a “DEAD END” sign. To the left was a low water bridge with not much that I could see beyond it. Garmin assured me that Carter Caves Park was just a few minutes away on the other side. While I contemplated the situation, I checked the GPS to see if it was really in “Faster” mode and not in “Shorter” or “Adventurous” mode. It was. I have gone straight ahead in similar situations in the past but on this day I wasn’t in adventurous mode either. After turning around and traveling a short distance, I could look back and see a road heading off on the other side of the stream. I was tempted but continued on the prudent path.

I entered the park about half an hour later after a drive of 20, rather than 2, miles. Even so, I was there way ahead of my scheduled dinner time and assumed it was also too early to check in. I explored the park in my car and found every possible parking spot near the lodge/restaurant filled. The feeding frenzy was in full swing. There was a reasonable mix of cars and open spaces at the visitor center so I pulled in to take a look.

Once inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find that cave tours were taking place that day and even more pleasantly surprised to learn that a tour of X‑Cave was starting in just five minutes. X‑Cave is not very large but it does have a lot of interesting formations. It gets its name from two passageways that intersect to form an ‘X’. Tours travel through one side of the ‘X’, step outside, reenter, and travel through the other side. On the first pass through the intersection, the tour guide shared the cave’s very own Daniel Boone story. It’s extra appropriate on Thanksgiving Day.

While hunting one day, Boone spotted the largest turkey he had ever seen. He inexplicably missed his first shot but saw the turkey enter the cave  He hurriedly lit a torch and followed. Reaching the underground intersection, Boone saw the turkey down one of the passageways and fired. In his haste and weak light, the frontiersman had overloaded his rifle with powder and the blast threw him backward with such force that the imprint of his foot can still be seen. The turkey was missed once again by the shot but was so badly frightened that it instantly turned to stone.

Things were still busy at the lodge but I was now able to find a parking spot. I was even able to check into my room where I relaxed until dinner time. There is a salad bar behind me and a dessert-filled table just beyond the ham carving station. I helped myself to turkey and stuffing and more but decided against the ham when I reached it. I think that was because I had also helped myself to that other traditional Thanksgiving entree, catfish, when I filled my plate. After dinner, as I again relaxed in my room, I decided to get on board with the popular Elf on a Shelf craze.

When I left the lodge on Friday, I was only slightly surprised when the GPS directed me to turn left rather than retrace the way I’d arrived. Even though the road name didn’t register immediately, it did eventually, and as Sutton Road became narrower and more gravely, I knew exactly where Garmin was leading me.

This is the other side of that low-water bridge where I turned around Thursday. On Friday, having seen both sides, I had no qualms about splashing right on through. In fact, I was quite happy to do so and erase some of the guilt I felt about not splashing through the day before.

Another Season of the Fish

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I like fish and therefore like fish fries. During Lent, I try to patronize some of the Friday fundraisers although I rarely manage to check off every week. I doubt that was even possible during the COVID-19-ravaged years of 2020, ’21, and ’22. Even without a pandemic’s interference, going 7-for-7 isn’t always easy. I thought I’d accomplished it a couple of times but maybe not. 2014 is the only year that I’ve boasted about in this blog so maybe it’s the only perfect run I’ve ever accomplished — until now.

Lent, and the seven weeks of fish fries, ends with Easter. That 2014 boast was my Easter Day post for the year. I wasn’t completely confident of my ability to manage a fish fry every week this year and I had another Easter post ready just in case. When another 7-for-7 run began to look likely, I started thinking that I’d have to scrap that other post. Then I noticed that my calendar identified both an Easter Sunday and an Easter Monday. Easter Sunday got an Easter post and Easter Monday gets a fish post. 

The first week of Lent somehow caught me by surprise. I worked in a stop at nearby Saint Margaret of York on the way to something else. I’ve eaten here at least twice before. I do like to try new places but this is convenient and I like their baked salmon.

I did find a new-to-me place for the second week. At Saint Gertrude, I again had salmon but it wasn’t just any old salmon. This is “Roasted Lemon Dill Salmon”.

There is reason to think my choice for week three was a cheat but I think I can justify it. The Crow’s Nest is a commercial establishment and I did go there to see a musical performance (Ricky Nye) but the kitchen has been temporarily closed for renovation and food was not regularly available. A cooking tent has been set up in the courtyard for the duration of lent and fish is available for a few hours on Fridays. Only fish and only Fridays. Just like the churches.

Do you like Kolping? I don’t know. I’ve never Kolped. I found that silly joke, originally referencing author Rudyard Kipling, stuck in my head as I ate some really good baked fish at the Kolping Center on the fourth Friday of Lent.

During Lent’s fifth week, I went to Saint John the Evangelist in West Chester for baked tilapia. The meal, including drink, was only eleven dollars but the two-dollar pie pushed me to the teens.

There was no baked option at American Legion Post 484 so, for only the second time this year, I did not sully the name “fish fry” when I placed my order in week six.

Of course, the internet and online lists play an important role in all fish fry scheduling but it was extra important in locating a fry that I could work into a road trip without going too far off course. The event at American Legion Post 737 in Lake Milton, Ohio, met my Good Friday needs perfectly.

This may not be the last year with a “fish season” post but I expect it to be the last one with a set of stops like these. On the way home from one of the churches, I listened to a report on the boarding schools of nearly a century ago that were part of the effort to erase Native American culture. It told of physical, mental, and sexual abuse in which the United States government and the Catholic Church were involved. The report reminded me of a news article I’d read just the day before about a Cincinnati priest being sentenced on nine counts of rape going back decades. Arrest and prosecution had only recently occurred despite his “upsetting and alarming” behavior having long been noted. The specifics were new but the basics of the stories were not. When I started going to church-sponsored fish fries, I thought my patronage was harmless and was possibly even doing some good. Reflecting on these stories and the many others they reminded me of caused me to think otherwise. I may continue to frequent springtime fish fries but in the future they will be at fire stations, VFW and American Legion halls, and Irish pubs with closed kitchens and a grill setting outside the back door. So long churches, and thanks for all the fish.

Mo’ O’fest

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Last week I went to the largest Oktoberfest in the country. This week I went to the closest. And maybe the newest. Several Loveland, Ohio, businesses have been celebrating the occasion for several years, and last year the city itself decided to get involved. Somewhere a town or city might be holding their first ever Oktoberfest but the second ever Loveland Oktoberfest is still something pretty new and an indication that the first one was enough fun to make it an annual event.

As I did with Oktoberfest Zinzinnati, I targeted Friday shortly after opening. In this case, that was 4:00 when I was again able to avoid the larger evening crowds.

Not only did my timing allow me to enjoy a little open space, it allowed me to hear this new-to-me band. Alico does not deliver typical Oktoberfest fare. There isn’t an accordion or tuba anywhere on the stage. The young and talented duo perform rearranged covers mixed with originals that left me quite impressed. I thought the drummer looked kind of familiar and have since learned he is Joe Nasser who was once with Erin Coburn’s band. Spencer Anthony handles guitar and vocals.

City-sponsored parts of the event were concentrated in Nisbet Park and along the bike trail but several businesses had their own activities going on as well. I skipped the biergarten and grabbed a Lovetoberfest Marzen at the trailside Narrow Path Brewing Company.

Then I headed over to Cappy’s Wine and Spirits for their Stein Hoist competition. Several businesses held contests for both men and women with the winners moving on to a Saturday Night city-wide event. The opening photograph shows the final two women contestants toasting each other before one arm faltered to decide the winner.

I didn’t stay for the men’s competition but headed off to Hometown Cafe for dinner. This picture of the cafe was taken shortly after my arrival. It was significantly more crowded when I picked up my schnitzel and spaetzle and walked down the trail to eat it accompanied by dinner music from the Schnapps Band. 

Three in a Row

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Life seems to always get busier as autumn approaches. That’s no doubt partly pure perception as we try to pack as much as possible into the last days of summer but it’s also partially real. Maybe event schedulers once avoided some conflicts by delaying things but there is a limit to how late in the year outdoor activities can be moved without a high risk of cold weather. This week found me participating in blog-worthy outings on three consecutive days. On Thursday, it was the Open Doors: Camp Washington- The Home of Makers walking tour. On Friday, I made it to the first day of Oktoberfest Zinzinnati and on Saturday, a friend and I attended the WACO Fly-In where the photo at right was taken.

The first stop on the Camp Washington tour was at the Crosley factory. An effort is underway to convert the place where radios and appliances were once manufactured into apartments but it has a long way to go. Camp Washington was once filled with factories, meat processing plants, and some oil storage. The 1937 flood damaged many buildings and most of those on Spring Grove Avenue were destroyed by a fire fed by oil floating on the flood waters. The middle picture is of the tallest building in the area to survive. The third picture is of the surviving office building of one of the meatpacking firms.

The only building we entered on the tour was the former hotel and bank that most recently housed US (Uncle Steve’s) Chili. It is now owned by the Cincinnati Preservation Association and slated for renovation. I’ve eaten breakfast and 4-ways here but had never been beyond the first floor. The tile (Rookwood?) fronted fireplace is on the third floor and I also got a shot of a neighbor from that floor. One of the things I remember about US Chili was a large petition calling for removal of the disrespectful (to George) mural seen in that overhead shot and from ground level here.

The tour had started at the American Sign Museum and would technically end there but it more or less disbanded at Valley Park where a farmer’s market was wrapping up for the day. I have driven by the park quite often and have noted its WW I monument but this was the first time I’d actually approached it.

Besides being the host and an interesting Camp Washington building in its own right, the American Sign Museum pulled signs from a pair of former Camp Washington businesses from the attic and offered up some musical entertainment. As marked by a reproduction sign on a parking lot wall, the museum building was once home to Fashion Frocks. I was well aware of that but had never seen any of their products. Tonight the museum had a frock and some advertisements (“Value Priced $7.98”) on display.

My guess that things might not be too crowded on Friday afternoon proved more or less correct. I grabbed a sausage sampler at Mecklenburg’s, a smoked mettwurst at Mick Knoll’s Covington Haus, and a Festbier from the “World’s Oldest Brewery”.

I caught lots of good German music but I didn’t catch any of the performers’ names.

I didn’t catch this guy’s name either but if it’s not Cincinnato Batman I’m going to be really disappointed.

 
 

My completely unqualified impression is that the WACO Fly-In had fewer total planes than usual and that a higher percentage of them were non-WACO but that a higher percentage of the WACOs were the real thing rather than modern reproductions. I also had the more reliable impression that the weather was perfect for the event.

The fly-in is a wonderful place to get up close and fairly personal — no touching — with some beautiful aircraft.

We had semi-intentionally timed our visit to include the Parade of WACOs which meant we got to see quite a few airplanes take off and land and sometimes pause for directions.

And cruise by at fairly low levels, too.
 
 
The WACO story is definitely an interesting one.  An onsite marker tells an extremely brief version with a whole lot more available at the museum website. Or you could probably learn a bunch chatting with this fellow at his color-coordinated airfield campsite.