On the way home from a Redwoods camping trip, our friends insisted that we stop in Gilroy (“garlic capital of the world”) to sample the garlic ice cream. These self-proclaimed “foodies” touted it as a culinary adventure and at the very least another food that they can claim to have tried. The garlic ice cream required a detour and a delay in getting home, so I wasn’t thrilled about the idea. But nonetheless, at 11am we were queued up at some roadside stand so our friends could partake in garlic ice cream, which was available in both the vanilla and chocolate varieties.
I’m certainly not the most adventurous eater. Most times, I don’t see the need to dine at an upscale restaurant, when a burger and fries would be more enjoyable. In fact, my default ordering process at any restaurant is to find the menu item that is the most philosophically aligned with a cheesesteak. Soup of the day? Hopefully they have french onion. You’ve got the bread, you’ve got the cheese, and if the broth was made with beef consommé–you’ve got liquid steak in there too. Salad? My former office was a stone’s throw away from Tin Leaf that featured a Tri Tip Steak salad with arugula, spinach, grilled onions, and gorgonzola blue cheese. So basically, a cheesesteak with onions or “cheesesteak wit” for those of you close enough to South Philly. So, for me, dining out is usually not the time to improvise.
With that in mind, may I present to you, a history of unadventurous, yet personally memorable meals.
Fruit Loops and Grape Kool-aid |Matsumoto Kitchen Table | Manlius, NY
Do you remember as a kid how some of your friends’ parents had great food at their house? Ours was 100% not one of those houses. What we lacked in Cool Ranch Doritos, we made up for in proximity to the high school. At just over a mile from Fayetteville Manlius High School high school, my house made for a convenient stop after school…and sometimes during school. There were marathon ping pong tournaments in the basement and the post-game recaps took place upstairs over sugary cereal. It’s as incredibly nerdy as it sounds: the ping-pong league had a name and the Kool-Aid was referred to as “12-molar” in some sort of AP Chemistry tribute. Good thing we had multiple versions of this classic Tupperware pitcher on hand.
Eggs, bacon, and fried bass | The Woodman House | Wolfe Island, Ontario, Canada
Some of those ping-pong players were part of mostly annual fishing trip that took place in summer in college and shortly after. My friend, Ted, is a master planner and orchestrated “The Fishing Trip.” Fishing is not really a personal interest of mine, but I enjoy drinking beer and BS-ing as much as the next guy, so I was always game. After driving from Syracuse to Kingston there was a ferry ride to Wolfe Island. Before the ferry ride, there was the prerequisite donut hole fight with Timbits from Tim Hortons. While the Timbits that weren’t chucked at each others’ heads were tasty, breakfasts were the memorable meals from those trips. After a day on the St. Lawrence River, we would wake up starving and and stumble downstairs for breakfast. In addition to the bacon and eggs, we were treated to fried fish, presumably the fish we caught the day before. Having never been much of an outdoorsmen, it was novel to make use of fish we caught and not just fish for sport. I do have a sneaking suspicion; though, they always had fish on hand for subpar anglers.
Mozzarella Sticks | Bull Run Inn| Lewisburg, PA
My college years might have have coincided with the apex of mozzarella stick culture. In subsequent years, deep-fried cheese may be been eclipsed by jalapeño poppers, lettuce wraps, and charcuterie boards, there was a time when fried mozzarella sticks were as big as LA Law, Icky Woods, and Richard Marx. Thursdays were bar nights at Bucknell and “The Bar” meant the Bull Run Inn. On their menu were these really big Mozzarella sticks. They were much more logs than sticks and close to the size of a expensive cigar. In addition to the traditional marinara, they were also accompanied with a mustard sauce, like you’d see with eggrolls. They were the prefect late night snack after downing five dollar pitchers of Rolling Rock. Just thinking about Bull Run Thursdays make me want to carve my name into our dining room table with a butter knife.
Half-Chicken with Roasted Potatoes and Bean Salad | George’s Roasters & Ribs | Princeton, NJ
This was one of my go-to single guy meals in my late 20s/early 30s. I use the phrase “single guy” because the word “bachelor” to me assumes that you’re dating and actually have a social life. Sadly, there were Saturday nights were the big night life decision on Nassau Street was Georges Roaster & Ribs or Hoagie Haven. Still, while many of the roasted half chickens were consumed over the sink or watching tv, it doesn’t diminish the quality of the meal. Chicken roasted to juicy perfection with great sides to accompany it. The potatoes and bean salad were my standard choices. Later I met another single guy, Matt, and we discovered our mutual fondness for Georges. He taught me the trick of immediately soaking your bread in the chicken/potato drippings and then enjoying it at the end of the meal.
Fish Tacos | Side of the Road Makena Alan | Maui, HI
Since Jenni and I have been together there’s been lots of celebratory meals. From marking our engagement in Cape May, NJ to an anniversary dinner in the sand in Southern California, we’ve had plenty of “money’s no object, sky’s the limit, it’s a special occasion” meals. For life the of me, I can’t remember what I’ve had to eat at any of those meals. I do, however, remember the fish tacos by the side of the road on our honeymoon. We were staying in South Maui and a hotel staffer tipped us off to this truck that appeared at lunchtime. So one day, we walked past the valet, down the road, with the Pacific Ocean on our right. We found the modest brown trailer with steam coming out the top and ordered. These fish tacos were more burrito-like in construction but delicious all the same: perfectly grilled maui-maui sitting on top of brown rice. The kicker was this space of combination of sour cream, salsa, and spices that for years Jenni and I tried to recreate in our own kitchen. But it was never as good as it was on that Maui afternoon.
Nachos | Angels Stadium | Anaheim, CA
This were not your average ballpark nachos. Jenni and I were celebrating our twelve anniversary with a baseball game. Jenni grew up in Anaheim and has remained a dedicated Halos fan ever since. We splurged for some of the best baseball seat I’ve ever had, rows behind the catcher. Our seats also came with the access to the cocktail bar behind home plate. While sitting at the bar, Jenni and I had best nachos we’ve ever had. In place of the usual accompaniments, these topped with chorizo, pickled red onions, and creme fraiche. They were salty, spicy, sweet, and sour all at the same time while still remaining true to the beloved cheese and chips combination. I sat across from my bride and lovingly negotiated who got the last few bites. A great day at the ballpark.
Chocolate Eclairs | Club Med Ixtapa Pacific | Zihuatanejo, Mexico
In middle school, I had three years of home economics as a part of our elective rotation. Equally split between sewing and cooking, we always enjoyed classes that ended in us eating something. So one day in eighth grade, I worked with my kitchen teammates to make cream puffs. I’m not sure how constructing profiteroles fit into essential life skills, but man were they good. While we received a passing grade for our cream puffs, I haven’t retained that skill in how to make them. But I’ve always had real soft spot for chocolate eclairs. So much so that when I see them on a dessert buffet, my survival brain thinks “We can’t find those at home, we should probably eat a dozen of them now because you don’t know when you’ll come across those again.” Of course on this trip, the chocolate eclairs were available at every meal and I think I’m gaining a few pounds just remembering the food on this vacation.
So there you have it–an incomplete resume of a life spend eating less than adventurously. While the settings change, what doesn’t is the presence of good friends and family. At its very best, food provides a common experience and a time and place to create memories or springboard into intimate conversations. Tis the month of November and I probably could have filled this list of different Thanksgiving meals, but there’s only so many ways to describe how fluffy mashed potatoes are. Our “foodie” friends (the ones from Gilroy) traditionally come to our house for Thanksgiving; we just don’t let them bring the ice cream.
