Midwest Specifics

Found in Fargo Magazine

Only in the Midwest.

Confession:

I didn't even know what a rhubarb was until college; I still don't quite get it, but I do know that they are delicious.

Midwest Specifics

More Midwest Breakfast!

One of my favorite customers bestowed upon me a pair of Kiwanis Pancake Feed tickets. The 56th annual Pancake Feed was held at the august Fargodome. There were Disneyland-like lines, enough security for Air Force 1 and rotating pancake griddles. Preston and I noshed buttermilk and buckwheat pancakes while listening to the  Phantom of the Opera medley played by a pianist perched in the center of the dome. The Kiwanis men and women fed over 8,000 Fargonians, and two misplaced Californians on an icy Saturday morning.

stowed away peanut butter is the only way to pancake breakfasts

Missing Pieces

A Hole in the Story

Perpetual frozen fingers and ice cold nights delayed a few Midwest updates. The crown jewel of my missing Midwest experiences was finally finding Fargoian donuts, well almost Fargoian. Donuts are an odd paradox in North Dakota. One would think that the land in love with all things fried, carb-y and sugar drenched would have a grand promenade of donut shops. But this is not the case. Fargo is completely donut free. With one exception.

Donuts Here & There

Grocery stores are the only place to locate the round precious confections. And as a general life rule* I avoid grocery store bagels and donuts. They never live up; such circular treats require an artistic precision that only specialized bakeries can create. Even foreign countries know the importance of a good donut. Thailand, a general place of all things unexpected, had a donut parlor in the center of Bangkok's immigration complex.  I highly advocate government donuts; the doughy sweets ameliorated the bureaucratic torture of attempting to extend our visas. Clearly a food of high esteem in the south east Asian county, Thailand even created a franken-food artistic interpretations.

Donut-Burgers in Chang Mai

*Another general life rule insists that I never don outfits that combine brown and black, I am not an earth tone person.

West Fargo Wanderin'

Beyond Wal*Mart lies West Fargo's city limits. West Fargo is a fast growing and rambunctious place. Bits of prarie lie fallow between gaudy housing developments and run-down duplexes. Yet, the nouveau riche and working class break bread, well donuts, together at Sandy's Donuts. The one issue with Sandy's donuts is that it closed on Sunday. And what is Sunday other than donut day?!!

Donuts, Donuts, Donuts

My new work schedule finally freed up a few Saturdays in my life.  Giving Preston and I the opportunity to make the trek to deliciousness. Once at Sandy's I ordered a cherry donut and a blueberry Bismark (aka jelly donut). Preston engulfed a sour cream chocolate donut as well as a raspberry Bismark.

We drank coffee from "kitchen cabinet" mugs and enjoyed a peekaboo view of the Sheyenne river bank. The decor was homey and the bakery buzzed with overlapping laughter. Our morning conversation spanned from the Wisconsin Blue Grass Band we had seen the night before and Preston's sadness that his donut wasn't filled with sour cream. A sadness I did not share. Because really, a donut filled with sour cream sounds like a horrendous tastebud exercise.

Thesis

My theory on Fargo's missing donuts stems from a hashtag entitled #winterwoes. My belief asserts that the six months Fargo spends below freezing each year, has seriously affected the citizen's ability and drive to "dash" out to collect a pink box of donuts. Without a willing customer base, Fargo's donut shops have perished. But despite the lack of shops, the undying American spirit that loves all things pure, free and tasty survives the terrible tundra, like a permafrost beneath the snow. Thus an indefatigable Fargo-following pilgrimages to West Fargo each and every day for a little something covered in glaze; a following Preston and I have joined.

MIDWEST POINTS

Getting a Bismark = 2 MIDWEST POINTS

Hibernation

Cozy Cold

A few weeks into January, a few weeks into -20, I stopped fighting the cold. I gave in, and tucked in. Candles are lit and books are read in our little hobbit-hole apartment. Cayenne and garlic billow about our galley kitchen as winter dinner creations are invented. And the heat is always on.

Deciding to do as the North Dakotans do has been liberating. Giving in to the indoors doesn't take long to enjoy. A bath each night to ward off the commute cold and four blankets piled high above our Christmas quilt have become routine. And while I dream about beers drank on summer patios and a return of my sandal tan-lines, I am doing my best to enjoy my final months of winter.

A Hibernation Documentation

Books Read & Re-read:

Gone With The Wind*
Drop Dead Healthy
City of Dark Magic
Cowboys Are My Weakness
Oris A.P.E
A few chapters of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**
Greek Myths 
Wild

*ceased reading in New Orleans, in order to give Rhett and Scarlett a chance at a different ending
**read by Preston, listened to by Kailynn

Culinary Creations

Hot & Sour Chicken Stir-Fry
Pasta Carbonara, a la Cayenne
Vegetarian Bacon BLT's
Sweet Potato Fries
Grilled PB&J's
Cayenne Fried Chicken & Waffles*

*Chef Preston's masterpiece

Candle Scents

Bahamian Breeze
Ocean Mist
Tangerine Cloud
Spas of Thailand

Movie Dates

American Hustle
Labor Day
Frozen Sing-A-Long
Rushmore

Ground Hog's Day

With the promise of spring, coming one of these far off-days, Preston and I have began to venture out of the den. We have blissfuly dined on Fargo's finest sushi, bopped along to Wisconsin Blue-Grass and even attended a free drinks happy hour. Reaffirming our in it to win it mantra we sketched a plan to tryout every downtown restaurant and bar. As soon as it thaws a bit. 

Midwest Specifics

...que?

Midwestern Spanish at its finest.

PS Whale of a Wash is my 2nd favorite sign in Fargo

Denny's: Love or Obsession?

L-O-V-E

Preston and I love Denny's. Our strong ardor for Grand Slams and endless coffee is the glue that bonds us together. Additionally, our mutual and respect for one another may also be a key component. But anyways, back to Denny's. 

Denny's is perfection. It offers breakfast ALL DAY LONG. It is constantly dreaming up new ways to meet their customers' ever-changing pallet, potachos anyone? It is always there for you, no hour is too late or day too sacred. And it's EVERYWHERE.

POTACHOS!!!!
Source: www.buttermilkpress.com

Absence Abroad

No matter your destination endless pancakes and "Moons Over My Hammy" will meet you there. Everywhere that is, but Australia*. We should have know that this very fact was a clear omen that the land down under could never be our permanent home. A pancake puppy-shaped void existed in hearts last year.  Slices of Ozzie fruit cake and pounds of Thai bananas were unable to fill such an abyss. During layovers and long bus rides Preston and I would dream up fantasy feasts. And before we went to sleep each night we'd pray for a safe return to "America's Favorite Diner".

*But, Tokyo does! We passed a glorious yellow sign during our four hour layover in Japan. Unfortunately it wasn't our stop; fortunately we were just twelve hours from 'Muurrrica. 

Devoid of Denny's=Devastation in Laos

Remarkable Times at a Remarkable Place

Our summer return ushered in a new era of Denny's passion. A mid-morning celebration for our three year anniversary opened this new chapter. But this isn't the first time that Denny's has been a backdrop for my grandest moments.

Best Moments at Denny's:

• The annual breakfast spot before childhood trips to Disneyland
• My victory dinner after I was elected middle school Vice President 
• During said victory dinner my mom surprised my sister and I with tickets to Disney World
• A whole wheat pancake frenzy at the beginning of my sophomore year of college 
• Celebrating New Year Eve's in style with an orange themed three course meal
• A snowy double date during my first visit to Washington
• Concocting my Honors Senior Thesis with old friends over endless cups of coffee
• The day that Reno taught me that Denny's serves beer

Denny's Date

Midwest Best Moment

                                    Experiencing the Middle Earth Second Breakfast Menu

Best of the Best!!!

Twins!

Check Out the Smaug Burger

Life Mantra

Radagast's Red Velvet Pancakes Puppies

The Hobbit Hole Breakfast & a peak of Honey Cake French Toast

Denny's Second Breakfast Menu has changed my life. I now realize that is so much hope and goodness in the world. And I encourage/command everyone everywhere to go and bask in its breakfast glory. CARPE DIEM. YOLO.

And from a less biased source:
According to my mom, a Tolkien disciple, the only thing missing was ale. Luckily I know this Denny's in Reno... 

Sunny Day

Unlikely Favorites

I have a thing for the under-dog days of the week. Friday and Saturday are fine by me. But it's Thursday and Sunday that win my heart.

Thursday Totality 

I love the happy anticipation of Thursdays. Historically, my childhood confirmation classes were held on Thursday. Which meant that my three best friends and I (and our respective crushes) were together for two and half giggly hours. High school thursdays were spent studying history in the living room with my dad. Weekend planning and day early cocktails took place during my undergrad years. Midwest Thursdays translate into YMCA yoga and culinary adventures in the realm of Chile Colorado and Seared Lime Chicken. By principle, Thursdays are never busy. The week's diminuendo rises and falls from dawn to dusk; it song is sung dulce. 

Surmising Sunday

Sunday has a less fixed persona. It's character flux stems from its dualistic position. According the bible-fearing folk it is the final day of the week, a day for rest. Yet calendars place it in the number one spot. And in the that sense it is the first chance at a new week. Sunday is a day for big newspapers, hangovers and children's soccer games. To me, Sunday has a wonderful new feeling about it. I like to do what I like to do on Sundays. On the first and last day of the week I read library books, take bubble baths, watch M*A*S*H* reruns, bake granola, call my mom, browse the grocery store aisles, search for dandelions, groove to old records, dust in long socks, smoke the occasional cigar and do my best to wake up for church. And on special day Sundays I eat brunch.

Brunchday

Today was one of those special days. After a half -session at church (looking for missing shoes can lead to such situations) Preston surprised me with a a trip to Fargo's famed Granite City brunch. The packed buffet had enough carbs to nourish the Green Bay Packers. We feasted on luscious french toast, refined eggs benedict, scoops of potato goo, bouquets of bacon, mildly-healthy grilled chicken, strawberry flooded waffles, Tex-Mex biscuits and gravy, dressing drowned Caesar salad, super model-thin cantaloupe slices, hunky prime rib and freakishly tall caramel rolls. We rolled out of the brewery without even touching the omelet station. A walk was desperately needed.

Finding Fall

The scent of autumn filled our Sunday afternoon at Lindednwood park. We walked along the Red River, flopped on too-small seesaws and witnessed 74,390,234,783.56 mom-created photo-shots. A Lindenwood stroll is an ideal way to while away a "warm" October afternoon.

MIDWEST NOTE: All the locals were in shorts and t-shirts, including the five old photo-shoot children. It was 50 out.  
-1 Midwest Point=Wearing a coat and gloves

Now we are home in flannel. Wearing circus tent-sized flannel shirts is another one my Sunday things.

Midwest Specifics

While the predicted Saturday snowflakes stood us up this weekend, the one and only* Oscar Mayer Weiner-Mobile made a very celebrated appearance.

*in current commission, we were informed of the many Weiner-Mobiles of yesteryear

GAME COUNT

Having an Iconic Photo-Op while doing the Sunday shopping= 5 MIDWEST POINTS

Winning a Weine-Whistle=2 MIDWEST POINTS

DISCLAIMER: I will forever be a Hebrew Nationals fan, but I am an overall hotdog enthusiast of any kind.

Midwest Specifics

Space Aliens caught my eye all the way back in July. The instant I spotted it's galactic porthole I told Preston that it would be the first place we went once I was gainfully employed. Four thousand job applications later we finally sat down for oozy burgers and fries at the out-of-this-world eatery. Our experience was everything one may expect from Toy Story's "Pizza Planet", there was birthday cake, skiball and the claw. 

1 MIDWEST POINT: Space Aliens was founded in North Dakota. 

Midwest Points

Game Time

I have taken up a game. Or rather I've started keeping score. I have always been a big fan of giving out points to my friends and family for feats of courage and awesomeness. And as a summer camp counselor I was constantly bestowing "cool points" to my many campers. Currently I am counting Midwest Points.

First Point 

The first incident of self-awarded Midwest Points stemmed from an accidental 'mispronunciation', where I told a man that his family was "soooo cuuuuuute" in dialect that was not at all Californian twang. The oddest thing about the incident is that I couldn't replicate the pronunciation again. It was as if Thor's Minnesotan grandson Ole, struck me with the ability to speak in midwest tongues for just a moment. And while we are the subject of accents, apparently I have a very odd one. No matter where I am living, Sydney, Idaho, California, people are always telling me I have an accent. People have even questioned my roots in my hometown.

Origins Unknown

I think it's because I was born with an accent.There are two important factors when considering the time period in which I learned to speak. The first, I had many ear infections, which were believed to have altered my speech. The letter "R" did not exist for me. My dad Mark, was Mahk. A jar was a jah, and green was geen. With the exception of geen, my childhood pronunciation could be considered straight up Bostonian. Which brings me to the second factor, my caregivers. My Grammmie was the most loving Bostonian woman in all of southern California. And her accent was as thick as her hugs. Me and Grammie spent some time together, alot of time together. And for that matter I went to endless pahties with aunties and uncles, where my mom always lost her cah keys.

The St. Lucia Incident 

 I lived in my unknown accent until second grade. Mrs. Fuchs, our Irish music teacher had settled on a international themed Christmas pageant. The second grade was presenting Sweden's St. Lucia Day. My Dad helped me memorize all the lines for the role of Inga. And after my public try-out Mrs. Fuchs told the whole class that it was so nice that I had added an accent.

Wait.
An accent.
What accent?

That spring I started speech therapy.
Two years later, I had an "R"
& 50 SPEECH POINTS.

Second Point

But back to my most recent accumulation. Last week I had a major Midwest moment. I had my first bowl of pasta salad, ever. It was a Santa Fe pasta salad and it was filled with black beans, celery, bell peppers and delicious southwest sensibility. 2 MIDWEST POINTS. Since then I have also sampled a BBQ sauce based pasta salad. 1 MIDWEST POINT. And just yesterday two ladies at a table I was waiting told me that I "was just soooo nice". Being called nice by people who are known as being "North Dakota nice", deservers 4 MIDWEST POINTS.

The Santa Fe

SCORE. 

PANCAKES!!!

Languages may unite. Music can break down borders. But folks, a pancake breakfast just maybe the key to world peace. Native to tiny towns and greenbelt laced suburbs the community pancake breakfast is the ideal fundraiser. It's combined forces of creating community and delivering endless pancakes qualify it as one of the better ways to spend a summer Sunday.

As a former Indian Princess I have spent several weekends of my life selling tickets for and attending the local YMCA's pancake breakfast. Just like the breakfasts of yesteryear, Sunday's  griddle was headed up by some men folk. Battle Lake's Lion's Club members flipped fluffy pancakes, refilled lemonade and delivered costco hot dog-sized sausage links to each long table. 

I spent half of the breakfast thinking that the lions where the guys that drove little cars in parades. Turns out those are actually the shriners. Thousand Oaks' cool club was the Elk's Lodge. Unsure of the particulars myself, I made a quick cheat sheet for the next time you need to identify the group of old men gliding down the parade route. 

Lions 

Originated: Oak Brook, Illinois 

Motto: We Serve

Causes: Diabetes, Environment, Youth Outreach, Sight and Hearing agencies

Garb: Anything with a lion crest

Fun Fact: The female only sector is called the "Lioness Club"

HELLO

Shriners

Originated: Manhattan, New York

Actual Name: Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine

Causes: Children's Hospitals

Garb: Red Fezzes

Membership Fact: Only Masons are eligible to become Shriners

Elks

Originated: New York City

Original Name/Cause: The Jolly Corks were drinkers

Causes:Veteran Services, Scholarships, Community Investment

Fun Fact: Exalted Ruler, Lecturing Knight and Organist are all officer positions

You got it? Great, now let's get back to the main event. PANCAKES!!!

My eeeeeaasssssy* Sunday morning was perfected by a jar of smuggled peanut butter. Chances are that the peanut butter was in no way contraband and I didn't need to bundle it up in my purple flannel. But sometimes things are just more fun when you're being a little covert here and there. 

*sung like Lionel Richie's "Easy Like Sunday Morning" duet with Willie Nelson

Driving

The Complex Person That Is Me

HI

I have many askew character traits. I love hiking, but I am a fitness wimp. A half mile jaunt around cemented suburbia tires me out. I have been known to ask for a piggy back ride from anyone half-willing and able. And when asking doesn’t work I will fling.

Another dualistic example can be found in my college days. Completely unlike the halcyon lull of my high school senior year, my final college semester was jam packed with essays on Metaphysics, Heidegger readings and my capstone. When I wasn't researching my senior thesis on the parallels between Nietzsche’s Dionysian and Apollonian archetypes and Ecclesiastes aphorism in the original Hebrew, I was ravenously watching every Kardashian and Real Housewives E! and Bravo could throw at me.

My recent swing fluctuates between my inner-house cat desires to roll around all day and my serious distaste for being cooped up. Caught somewhere between relaxed and restless country drives have been feeding my sloth and eager appetites.

The Route

HI

Our most recent drive took us toward Henning, Minnesota. To be honest I don’t know what direction that is in. Maps, iPhones and compasses are banned from our four wheel drive wanderings. Instead Preston and I take turns deciding left or right.   

The Grub

HI

I am not ashamed to say that Dairy Queen was our first stop. And better yet it was a deal. For five whole dollars we feasted on fries, burgers, pop* and sundaes. Not to mention our cashier may have been the nicest and most enthusiastic employee I have ever encountered. He gave us a complete rundown on every single sundae topping option and skillfully entered my burger guidelines. Not mention, Dairy Queen carries Mountain Dew. WIN.

*D'ya you like my local speak? J

The Sights

HI

Hay stacks decorate Minnesota’s July. Behind old fences and next to grain towers the giant nursery rhyme favorites overlook the summer fields. Rusted John Deere tractors carry the stacks to their barn like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.

 The fields pause to let in a small artisan town, Vining Minnesota. The tiny city boasts an astronaut and steel artist celebrities. Antique shops neighbor the gas station/outdoor gallery just a few miles short of Ellington Lake.

 I can’t give direct you to places we went. But I can tell you there were dirt roads, cottonwoods and a  Dairy Queen lunch special along the way. 

Question for You: Do you like getting lost? 

My Answer: Growing up with my mom in the driver's seat has led me down a path of never knowing which way is which. As a result I think the location of "being lost" has always familiar homecoming for me. Y tu?

More Fair Fun

Another batch of Red River Valley Fair photographs!

HELLO

Cookie Dough Anticipation!

Infamous!

A 4-H Earless Cat Cake?

Canning, Canning, Canning

Cherubs Add Something To Every Decor

The People LOVE It

Preston's Fair Creation

Another Corndog Enthusiast

The Dusty Road Home