Road Trip Lunch c/o Penn Alps

What is it about certain places? How do they manage to lodge themselves into our minds as meaningful, as beautiful, as timeless? And how often can those places ever measure up to whatever strange hold they've had on a person's brain? I ask these questions because when I started planning my drive to Columbus in order to celebrate Cuz K.'s engagement I did not struggle very much in making the counterintuitive decision to drive south before west and north. This is not the first time that I have driven to Ohio and made a stop at Penn Alps. The first was pretty much three years ago. I drove to Ohio on the way to go down to Tennessee to be with my parents for became my mother's second and last extended stay in a hospital. That was the drive that began a reality that ended with my mother's death less than a month later. When I was driving there and while I was actually eating and walking around Penn Alps and its rather remote Grantsville, MD location, however, it was not entirely apparent that that was the circumstance. I haven't actually re-read what I wrote about the last visit. I know that I was generally reflecting on the same ideas of place and time and nostalgia. And that I was non-plussed by the change to the entrance and to the gift shop, both of which were expanded and made slightly less quirky and more in line with the 'tourists stop here and we sell them things' vibe that I don't totally love. The funny thing is that as I knew I was going to stop at Penn Alps, I also started thinking about another location that I'd been to a few times in my youth that strangely stuck with me in terms of shaping some element of something that I care about. It seems. Hancock, Maryland is a second example of a place where I never spent much time, but that I visited a few different times throughout some formative time in my life.

I took no photographic evidence of my last minute decision to peel off the highway and drive down Hancock's main strip. I hadn't actually been sure that the place in my memories was Hancock, but when I saw the roof of and sign of the orchard/farm market literally just off the highway, I was pretty sure it was a place I had been. I don't know when. As a four year old. As an eight year old. As a nine year old. As a 12 year old. I simply don't know if I've been to that town three times or ten. At least three, that is for sure. In any case. It was a surreal thing driving down Hancock's Main Street and having at first a moment of feeling like I was totally mistaken. If it wasn't that apple/farm building market thing, then what town was it? I was driving the same route that my mother would often take when we drove to Ohio, but I had never remembered any of the roads. It's a strange thing to see things you've already seen but not entirely on purpose or realizing you are about to do so. Hancock is like that. I remember the market. I remembered a diner that I kept thinking was going to be just a little bit farther, and then I started to think that it didn't exist, and then it suddenly appeared and was exactly as I thought it would be. I remembered a General/Discount store with some weird mix of cheap toys and groceries and asundry things. The kind of place where there really is dust on some of the merchandise. I remembered going entirely through the town and turning right and going who knows how far to a place to park in order to then hike a while to get to a cabin with my parents that was along the Appalachian Trail.

So this town is just a location I somehow saw a number of times up until the time I was about 13. It is 17 years later and I am still drawn to it. And why? It's just a pretty small town with no huge anything that I could tell. Just strangely fragmented memories of being there. Being struck by the small town-ness of it. Struck by perhaps the run-down-ness of some of the people I saw. I don't know and I've just gone on a considerable tangent when my main point is that I revisited an entirely different place that I totally associate with driving trips with my mother for the first time since she died. That may not be my main point, but it certainly is part of the fabric of the situation.

In any case. I got to Penn Alps around 1 after hitting just terrible traffic on 95 south. I went directly to the hostess stand (past the still weird-to-me cashier plaza) to get a table. I was seated in an area I'm not sure I'd been to before. Though there is an especially cobwebbed part of my mind that feels like the answer is yes, and there was hot chocolate with whipped cream involved. But I could be wrong. In any case, I knew that my meal the last time hadn't been a runaway success so I tried to choose more carefully this time around. I went with a sweet tea that totally won. And enjoyed taking a look at the place mat - or should I say place map? With its nicely illustrated landmarks and routes as well as a pretty interesting slogan...the photographic evidence of which is only on my phone. Oh man it was funny, perhaps in part because of its spacing. It went:

Come once & see what we 

have yet, still

That shit is deep. 

More thinking led to a far better choice in meal. Though I don't usually order Reubens (in large part because the sandwich reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's eating tendencies), this seemed like the place to get even more over something that is so far in the past as to be the kind of thing that shouldn't influence my eating habits. It wasn't the thickest of sandwiches, but the country style bread (I requested non-rye b/c that is just the truth of my preferences) really did add something to the mix. And what I believe was truly homemade sauerkraut was absolutely not your standard stuff. It was deep and dark in taste and not crunchy, which to me suggests it really did ferment and pick up a lot of flavor before landing in my sandwich. I really don't know enough about corned beef to say how it ranked, but I will say it was thicker than some of the Reuben sandwiches I've seen in my time. I also ordered a side of mashed potatoes and gravy even though the sandwich came with homemade potato chips that I shamefully ignored. The potatoes had some nice lumps that suggested being made not out of a box. And I liked the gravy regardless of its providence. Providence? Provenance?

And then it was time to take a stroll through Spruce Forest. I, again, somehow found myself too shy to actually go into any of the workshops. Honestly I think as a kid I never did go inside. I just loved all the little cottages and the idea of creation happening within.

In this instance even if I wanted to go in I couldn't "due to a weekend workshop in feather carving." Because THAT IS A THING THAT HAPPENS!!!!!!!

Then I went to the bridge/Casselman River to sit for a moment. The ground was a little wet so I didn't really do what I thought I might, which was take off my shoes and put my feet in the river. This was in part due to the squishy-ness of the ground and one part the fact that there didn't seem like there was a really perfect place to get in there. Also, I'm not sure if there are rules against putting your feet in a river right by a crafts village and don't want to be banned.

Yup. I haven't read what I wrote, but I have looked at the photographs. It's kind of terrible. It demonstrates an entire lack of creativity. I keep getting stuck wanting to capture the same exact view or a very similar one, which doesn't capture any more of the feeling or thoughts that I may have been trying to capture. How can you capture the feeling of just being a kid being slightly interested, slightly mesmerized and slightly bored by a place?

In the end I basically took the same exact photographs that I took the last time, only fewer of them. After my meal and stroll I continued heading west. For a while I was on a pretty solitary/small road, which provided me many a beautiful vista of the hills and mountains around me. I am still not entirely sure what the mountains would have been, but my car definitely enjoyed the challenge of driving up and down a few of them. Also: coal propaganda is the worst.

Breakfast Sandwich c/o One Shot Coffee

A few weekends back I drove over to L.'s neighborhood, picked her up, then we drove on to the main Northern Liberties strip for coffee at One Shot Coffee. Except I ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on a house made cheddar cheese and chive biscuit as a meal, and an earl grey latte as my drink. So no coffee for me. Coffee for L. though. It was nice to catch up. L. has had a number of quite big life things happen over the last month or two, and between our schedules we haven't had much time to actually see each other and talk about all the big things.
The sandwich was good, though I wondered how they made their eggs. I still, from time to time, remember how we made egg sandwiches at the coffee house I worked at during college, and shudder (it involved plastic and a microwave).
A good catch-up and meal, I particularly enjoyed the earl grey latte.

Umbrella Drinks c/o

L. and I did plenty of things on Saturday, but I don't really recall what they were. This was not a result of alcohol consumption. We went to brunch and then we hung out? And then we met up with N. for a drink at Zombie Hut. L. really wanted a drink on fire but I was not convinced. I ended up having their alcoholic peach iced tea drink, which was super duper way crazy sweet. I don't know what's happening to me, either I'm losing my taste for sugar (doubtful) or the world's drink makers (well at least some of them) are rededicating themselves to the cause of cavities for all. What?
Though the drink was sweet, that didn't stop me from enjoying its presentation: mason jar and blue umbrella. Blue is my favorite, so this worked out quite well for me.

Iced Tea and Sandwich c/o Julia's Fine Foods

After catching up with the ladies, I caught a ride with D. and K. back to the homestead. Shortly thereafter Dad and I went to Julia's Fine Foods for lunch. It seems very strange that they have iced tea, but not sweet tea. But I won't bemoan that point.
I decided to go with the Cuban panini and was rather taken aback by the lack of panini-ness of it. It was, perhaps, toasted...but not pressed and grilled in what I consider the accepted fashion of a proper panini. Too much bread and not enough meltiness. I like the idea of Julia's and the options are definitely a bit more interesting than most food establishments around Sewanee could offer. So I'm all for them succeeding, and remember enjoying their true-blue paninis a good deal whenever it was that I had them. Go to this place because I don't want it to go under, but perhaps try to choose more wisely than I did.
Thanks to Dad for the meal, regardless of my gripes.

Beverages A'Plenty c/o Infusion

Last Sunday I had a lot to do. That is not really true. I had very little to do. Or maybe I did. I can't quite recall. In any case, on my agenda was finishing reading the second Suzanne Collins book after having devoured (figuratively) Hunger Games in a literal 24 hour period of time. Also on the 'to-do' list was visiting Infusion Coffee and Tea, which isn't really in my neighborhood. So I wended and wound my way up to Germantown/Mt. Airy to take a look at the place. I have a bit of an 'in' with the owners, which led to discounted (free) beverages. I had an iced hazelnut latte and then was offered an Earl Grey milkshake. Both drinks were delightful, though my taste buds thought the Earl Grey tasted more like peaches than anything else (this happens from time to time). I also finished the book. If you are a reader, just submit to the waves of people telling you to read the books. Just submit to it I tell you. They're far better than Twilight.

Soup, Tofu and Seaweed c/o Su Xing House

After my return to Philly, I met up with my new friend G. for lunch. We went to Su Xing House, which was a first for me. I would just like to point out that the first line of the restaurant's description on its website is: "Go vege for a healthy life, an ad on the subway trains indicates going vegetarian is the single best thing that we can do for a healthy life." Because if it says it on a subway sign, it's gotta be true. I respect vegetarians up to a point, but I don't think that there's any 'single best thing' for almost any problem. What? I like what this woman says about her return to carnivorous ways. Anyways. The restaurant does have quite the lunch deal: tea, choice of soup, choice of rice, choice of entree and choice of side for about $8.
I started with the hot and sour soup, which was better than some I've had of late.
G. recommended that I try the General Tso Veg, which still featured tofu. I went with the seaweed side, which made me feel like my blood was getting stronger while also making me happy.

I tried some of G.'s Shredded Bean Curd & Shredded Bean Protein in Garlic Sauce and found its sauce to be quite nice.
Always nice to find a new place. One might ask whether they deliver. It'd be a nice addition to our work rotation during the busy season.

Keurig Crazy

While Mom was in the hospital, Dad and I stayed in the same hotel we'd stayed in during her last hospital stay and a few subsequent out-patient visits to Nashville. One of the things about the floor on which we stayed was the 'executive lounge,' which included this Keurig machine (actually the first time it was a different machine) and a plethora of options in terms of drinks to make in the machine. I like to say I'm not a coffee drinker, and I think it's not entirely untrue...but it's not really true either. I'm not a coffee drinker in my day to day life because I don't make very good coffee and I'm too lazy to really go and get myself a cup of coffee each morning. That, and I'm pretty happy with my Earl Grey caffeine fix most mornings. That said, if it's easy, flavored and free, I'll happily consume coffee. I especially liked the Keurig hot chocolate option, which isn't coffee at all, actually. It was a step above the usual not homemade without actual milk stuff you get most everywhere. I could have lived on it. Ish.

Mug Crack

Over the last couple of weeks I have noticed that my favorite mug in all the world, which has done right by me since 2005, has sprung a crack. When I pour my morning's hot water into the waiting mug, a small torrent of water escapes via this imperfection. Now, on a scale of one to ten of things that I should worry or care about in my life these days, this is a three. But, that said, it still makes me sad. It's the perfect height and volume for my tea consuming ways, and aesthetically pleasing as well, and yet I know this mug's days are numbered. L. suggests glue, but I worry that if water can come out from the inside, then the heat of the water could loosen the glue and invite it in to the tea, and I just can't have that. So every day, I fill my mug with a shiver of fear that that day will be the day that the heat expands the crack and my Earl Grey tea bag and heaping teaspoons of sugar in the raw will explode all over the place. I do not look forward to it, but I know it's coming.

Break That Fast

I brought a grapefruit with me when I went to the country. Mainly because it needed to be eaten or else it was going to go to waste. A. suggested squeezing it and having juice. I liked that idea very much; the juice was sweeter than I expected but with a tad of tart.
For breakfast we had eggs and bacon.
And really delicious Earl Grey Tea. Each morning I was there I drank an entire pot all by myself. For the longest time I didn't get why one would want to put honey into Earl Grey...but the combination of really good honey and really good tea, well, now I get it.

That's Some Sweet Tea...With Bourbon

So back when I visited L. in Brooklyn, I had the opportunity to have a bourbon with sweet tea. At that point I decided that the beverage would be my summer drink. Yet I never quite got around to making the simple syrup that (omg, as I was typing I saw not one but two pileated woodpeckers!) is integral to the effective making of sweet tea, nor did I buy any bourbon. Once I got down here I had similar plans to enact this summer drink but at first I did not win because I couldn't find my parents regular sugar. It was sad, I cried a little. But then! Then I emailed the parents and they directed me towards the sugar and then it was on for real. I made enough simple syrup for the tea and a hummingbird feeder. I took three Lipton tea bags (two peach flavored, one regular) and steeped them in some water. Then, with magic in my heart, I filled a pitcher (it wasn't really a pitcher but I can't think of the right word for what it is) with the simple syrup and ice before pouring the tea in it and stirring. Once that feat was complete I took a jigger of bourbon and put it into a glass then poured the sweet tea on in, plopping in a few ice cubes to boot, and garnished with a lemon.
The bourbon and lemon cut the sweet just a little, which was good since it was some sweet, sweet tea. Mmmm, mmm.

Now That's Some Sweet, Bourbony, Tea

After returning to L.'s we hung out a bit with Fat T. before heading back into the night. We went to 4th Avenue Pub to meet up with C. and K. and K.'s bf R. as well as a slew of C.'s architectural buddies. We were actually the first to arrive and began amassing what became quite the empire of seating. I tried the chocolate stout they had but it wasn't all that great (that Rogue stout may have undone me for all others). The pub serves free popcorn (which is more impressive if you particularly care for popcorn) and has a back patio area to make up for the limited seating inside. It began to rain so this outside area was not so useful. But we still had a few rainy photographs to take.

L. and I left first and met up with Fat T. at Commonwealth, where I had a sweet tea and bourbon. Um, summer drink hello!
It was delicious. But we were tired so we went back to their place and called it a night.

Holiday

Last Tuesday I left work and drove to Dewey Beach, Delaware, a beach town near Rehoboth where my parents had rented an apartment/condo for the week surrounding Christmas. On Wednesday I had to wake up and go to work like always, driving to a Starbucks in Rehoboth and using their internet for hours on end while paying for one cup of tea, maybe two. Earl Grey tea, the go-to morning beverage. I do love Earl Grey Tea, really sweet and cut with enough milk to change its color to a light beige caramel and taste noticeably silkier. Mmmm. It's best at home, not in a cardboard cup you have re-used four times. Lesson learned: bring your own cup. I don't bring my cup because I'm terrified of breaking it. It is one in a series of great cups I've had tea with. Except that it, unlike most all the others, isn't broken. Changing the scenery of a cup too many times is destined for badness. My green tall cup that I took with me from the condemned apartment in Tivoli broke as I was reaching for my keys to unlock my porch door after a day at the farm. Crash! That poor cup. I try to sequester my current mug, which I purchased at a Filene's Basement in Chicago within the first weeks of moving there - an attempt to find a routine and make a home is always helped by a great morning mug. I also bought a pair of shoes, maybe, they have not fared as well. If I wear them, these worn out clog type shoes, I get blisters on my heels. Who needs that? The point is not shoes or mugs. The point is that this is a picture of the view from my parents' apartondo on Wednesday morning.

Tea

I'm kind of fascinated by this. It's a weird thing, though, the idea of a see-through teapot. And I wonder if I would like the taste of the tea. Watch the video, it's kind of neat. Just imagine you could have an artistic cup of tea. Artistic? Sculptural?

Bloomington Farmer's Market

After breakfast She-Who and I strolled through the ridiculous heat and then meandered through the farmer's market. Look, it's a line for sweet corn. This was not the only stall to sell sweet corn...but it's the only one that had a line.
The pretty flower brigade was out in full force.
As were the Mennonites...or maybe Amish...but I think Mennonite.
She-Who couldn't resist the little plums available. They were super duper lovely sweet with hardly any tart...which is how I like my plums...and not how She-Who likes hers.
Full force I tell you.
Pretty!
I also ordered myself a sweet tea. Mmmm, that's some sweet tea.

Tea

Earlier this week I made a motherload of iced Earl Grey tea. Above you can see what one serving size, with milk added, looked like on a rock. The back rock.

Ugh. I got up this morning with a certain amount of chutzpa(h?) to go to the library and apply to a million zillion jobs. But I get so easily waylaid and bogged down. I've applied for two jobs. Neither of which is really an exciting possibility nor filled with much probability of coming true. Sigh.