T's Travels

Tomato Pie Cafe, Lititz, PA

Lititz is one of those towns that when you mention it, people say, “Oh, I’ve been there.”  Or “my girlfriend loved that place.”  Or “Wilbur buds. Mmmm.”  I’ve visited Lititz a number of times—eaten at the General Sutter Inn, had a drink at the Parkview Hotel, toured the chocolate museum at Wilbur’s, and shopped, shopped, shopped. I have also stopped at Glassmyer’s soda fountain, considered a landmark in town (and where my mother always took my niece on their annual Easter Wilbur shopping trip).

I was in Lititz recently with Mary the Photographer, researching the next book, and she said, “We’ll go to the Tomato Pie Café for lunch.” I was very surprised when she pointed to what I knew as Glassmyer’s and said, “That’s it.” Things have changed in Lititz!

The place was bustling and we had to wait a few minutes but were soon seated at a table in the small round room in the back. The menu has some unusual items. I was considering the sweet potato and marscapone on a grilled brioche (really, when do you see that on a menu?) but then Mary asked, “Is the tomato pie pizza?” The server said, “Oh no, it’s a real pie with a crust and low-acid tomatoes and a cheese top.” That did not sell Mary but I had to try it. Offerings called “signature dishes” are meant to be ordered.

And this one is worth it. The tomatoes were flavorful without any sour bite to them, the cheese top was baked, crunchy, wonderful. It came with a little side salad and a small wedge of a very soft herb scone—the living definition of savory. Mary had a grilled cheese sandwich (muenster and Vermont cheddar on grilled sourdough) but did not get the optional artichoke hearts. Our meals were not so big we couldn’t split a dessert, a citrus layer cake that was spongy and light and colorful. 

The Tomato Pie Café was opened by the Fisher family, who also owns the Lititz Family Cupboard and the Bakery at the Cupboard up the road (where our dessert came from). They get their coffee from Square One Roaster in Lancaster. You couldn’t get more local than that!

Photos (c) Mary Brenner 2012

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Hotels of the Past (#4)

The Shuler House in Pottstown, PA. This building had a long and varied life until it was torn down in the mid-1970s.

Bold, Altoona, PA

When I was a kid, eating in a restaurant was a real event--something rare and wonderful, to be enjoyed. In Pottstown we had the Shuler House (which started as the Farmers' Hotel in the 1800s). If there was another restaurant, I wasn't aware of it. On very special occasions we could have dinner there. I have no recollection of what I ate, only that my brothers would order the grape-jelly omelette (even then I had limits on what I considered good food).

I also have some very fond memories of dining in downtown Altoona as a child. We visited my grandfather a few times a year and he would treat us to a "fancy" Sunday dinner at Christ's (I believe that was the name). I loved sliding across the banquette, sitting elbow to elbow with my siblings, admiring the napkins and silverware. The waitresses fussed over us, we debated long and hard over what to eat, our meals came after an interminable wait (in kid-time, not that they were slow!), and eventually we would start poking each other and end up being dragged out of the restaurant and scolded.

My restaurant behavior has improved, of course (and I haven't poked my brother in years). When I returned to Altoona for college, downtown was mostly deserted. No dining options beyond Texas Hot Dogs and Tom & Joe's--not that we had the money anyway.

These days I visit Altoona for alumni work and downtown has changed again. It's now home to a vibrant extension of Penn State Altoona and has one of the best restaurants in the area on 11th Avenue. I've had lunch at Bill Sell's Bold (on Facebook as Bold Tapas) a number of times over the past two years. Haven't had a bad meal yet. The poblano chowder (crab, grilled corn, roasted poblanos, blue corn tortillas, cilantro) hooked me on my first visit. Since then I've had the baby romaine salad (roasted garlic dressing, spiced walnuts, blue cheese, chorizo sausage) with crabcake often (can't quit a good thing) and any number of specials. Most recently I broke out from my favorites to try the (very flavorful) black-bean burger and I have to now add it to the list of possibilities.

Driving I-99 past Altoona? Hungry? Don't get off at Plank Road and choose among the large number of chain establishments. Get off at 17th Street instead. Downtown is just over the hill and the railroad tracks. Bold is very easy to get to and you'll have a meal to remember

 

Mother's Day

My mother and I took many road trips over the years—she loved to drive the winding back roads of Pennsylvania. When her children were small, there was no money for vacations or long trips, but she sometimes put us in the car and drove and drove. We would beg for places to “lose our stomachs” (those little places in the road that can make you feel almost airborne). We might stop for an ice cream cone somewhere, but that was just the icing on the cake. The car ride itself was the recreation.

After I graduated college I accompanied her to visit her mother in a nursing home in Hollidaysburg. I went along as she researched the family genealogy throughout central Pennsylvania, hunting down unknown relatives and literally digging up graves (well, just uncovering half-buried tombstones). We vacationed together a few times, driving through New York State as she showed me where I was born and baptized, crossing the border into Maine just so we could say we’d been there, or going to Cape May for an opportunity to wade in the ocean.

In the early 2000s I noticed how much Mom was slipping and thought maybe a road trip would pick her up, give her something to remember when she couldn’t travel anymore. I asked her where she wanted to go and she said, “The Cumberland Gap.” I thought that was an odd choice, but I had never seen it and so it would be our adventure.

I didn’t realize just how frail she was when I planned this ambitious seven-states-in-five-days journey. We headed west through Maryland. In Grafton, West Virginia, we stumbled upon the monument to Mother’s Day, which I thought was touching but Mom wasn’t impressed (she was sentimental in many ways, but this wasn’t one of them). We crossed into Kentucky at night, near a brightly lit power plant and Mom commented on the shards of light. It was the first time she admitted that she could not see very well out of one eye, a result of botched cataract surgery a few years before.

Mom marveled at the coal seams visible along the road in Harlan. We came across “Loretta Lynn’s Home Place,” which brought memories of seeing Coal Miner’s Daughter together. When we finally made it to the Cumberland Gap, we took each other’s pictures. I thought in later years we’d look at the photos together and say, “Remember when . . .” But that didn’t happen. We made it to the Carl Sandburg home just outside Asheville, NC, and that’s when she collapsed. She hadn’t wanted to tell me how worn out she was; she knew how important the trip was to me.

It wasn’t long after we got back that she moved out of the house she raised us in, into one home, and then another. Her health declined and she was finally diagnosed with primary progressive aphasia, a rare fronto-temporal dementia. Now her days are spent in a wheelchair, unable to speak more than a few words that make sense. She almost always knows it’s me when I visit every week. Sometimes I talk about the past, about our trips, but there’s no acknowledgment that she remembers. She sleeps most of the time. I like to think that in her dreams she’s driving again, taking her kids over back roads, feeling the wind and listening to the laughter.

 

Hotels of the Past (#3)

This is the Penns Cave House, where my great-grandmother most likely spent her honeymoon in 1892 (see my blog post below).

Hotels of the Past (#2)

This is the Grand View Point Hotel, ca. 1948. It sat on the side of Route 30, between Bedford and Somerset, right up the mountain from the Old Shot Factory (which is now a B&B). The Grand View fell into disrepair and then burned in 2001, but many people have fond memories of the "Ship of the Alleghenies."

Photo courtesy of Mary Brenner.

Bear Appetit, Jim Thorpe, PA

The first day for a new restaurant might be nerve-wracking but I’ll bet day 2 also has its own jitters. Mary the Photographer and I were passing through Jim Thorpe this week and needed a bit of lunch. I had read about Flagstaff Mountain Resort (which is still in the development stages, it seems). We drove up the mountain anyway—the view is phenomenal!

But we still needed lunch. So we headed back into town. I’ve eaten at Pepperjack’s (Tex-Mex) and we considered the Inn at Jim Thorpe, as well as a number of other little eateries (it would take days to eat at every establishment in that town). But then I saw this big “GRAND OPENING” banner. And so we chose Bear Appetit!

Pictures of bears all over the place (could I feel more at home?). We sat down next to some photographs of black bears, which may have inspired Mary to order the Black Bear (ham and swiss with Dijon), which came with a side of vegetable beef soup. I had not yet seen the picture of a bear in the Flyers uniform (not a real bear), but I ordered the Philly Bear (a chicken cheeseteak) with sweet-potato fries. It was certainly more than bear-cub size!

The entire time we were in there, people kept streaming in to congratulate the owners on opening and asking for takeout menus for their offices. Our server was cheerful and attentive, and we chatted with the staff for a bit. It was just their second day open, but things were going well.

When I got home, I checked the Internet and it seems someone else had this place open not too long ago under the same name. Their Facebook page says “reopening.” Whatever this means, I can say we had a very nice lunch and wouldn’t hesitate to return!

Photos (c) Mary Brenner 2012.

Hotels of the Past (#1)

This hotel stood just outside Jim Thorpe, PA. It was damaged by a brush fire in the early 1900s and torn down a few years later.

My travels with BBQ

The “best barbeque” . . . everyone says they know where that is. South, north, east or west? Must it be NC or nothing? Pulled or minced? Vinegar, tomato, soaked in sauce or just drizzled?

My go-to BBQ, Clem’s, is known across Pennsylvania as having some of the best sauce around. The State College location just closed, but he promised to open again soon. Until then I’ve got to sate my BBQ desires elsewhere. On my way to North Carolina last week, I got that chance.

The highway folks were doing some blasting on Interstate 81 South and so we had to detour off at exit 132 and follow Highway US 11 a while. Kudos to the workers; it really wasn’t too awful. But just about the time we were going to get back on 81 at Christiansburg, VA, it was lunchtime and we decided to stay off the interstate long enough to eat. Road sign: Due South BBQ ahead. That was easy.

Just a mile from the highway, past a collection of chain establishments, sits this little barbeque joint, Due South (make sure your sound is on if you click through the link). Once inside, we got in line (good sign!) and were greeted by the most cheerful of order-takers. I didn’t get her name but I loved her attitude! We got the standard lunch special—sandwich with hushpuppies and one side (I got slaw, he got sweet potatoes).

Bottles of sauce are on the table—brown, sweet, hot, red, your choice. I like being able to choose exactly how much sauce I get. The meat was so good I considered no sauce at all, but I had to try some of them. Husband noticed that I didn’t put slaw on my sandwich, like I usually do, but those long shreds of cabbage and carrots in a thin white dressing were best enjoyed on their own as well.

While it’s clear that Due South takes its BBQ seriously (see this article on their beginnings), it still has quite a sense of humor. This is the mirror in the ladies room:

 

Eating (Well) in Asheville, NC

I’ve had the pleasure of visiting Asheville, NC, more than once. It’s a great place for hiking gorgeous trails full of waterfalls, shopping in funky little artsy places, and sightseeing, my favorite being the Carl Sandburg house. Most recently I was in Asheville for several days while my husband attended a meeting.

I was disappointed to learn that our hotel was not downtown but instead adjacent to Biltmore Village, which I thought meant I would miss out on the great Asheville restaurants. When am I going to learn not to jump to conclusions?

The Biltmore House (or, as a waitress referred to it, their very own "Appalachian Versailles") is very well known as George Vanderbilt's late 1800s summer getaway--all 250 rooms of it, with grounds and gardens to match. Lesser known is Biltmore Village, a small planned community built just outside the estate to house the workers.

We arrived after a very long drive, so my husband and I took a walk, looking for a light dinner. We walked down to the Village, past the Hardees and the Arbys whose architecture clearly mimicked the other buildings in the neighborhood. We stopped at the Grand Bohemian Hotel to take a look inside. With its dark wood, huge fireplace, stuffed animals (not teddies, taxidermy), it definitely does not look just three years old (built on the site of an Exxon station).

Inside the Grand Bohemian is the Red Stag Grill.  It’s five o’clock somewhere! No, it was actually five o’clock. So we had a drink. I ordered the Red Stag Manhattan, made from black cherry bourbon (Jim Beam). Husband had club soda and we split the Hunt Plate. This was a very good start for the week.

The next morning I strolled back into the Village to explore places for the meeting group to eat. I stopped at the Corner Kitchen, which was really hopping, even at 10 a.m. I sat at the bar and ordered the Biltmore Village breakfast (eggs, toast, excellent grits). Lunch was at Julian’s Gourmet Sandwiches, where the croissants were just coming out of the oven so of course husband had to have one for his sandwich. I had a half sandwich (still huge!), roasted vegetables on fresh and tender whole-wheat bread. And for dinner we went with friends back to the Red Stag.

After all that great food, it’s no surprise that the next day I was not interested in breakfast, or lunch for that matter, and just nibbled. But we then joined the group for a dinner at Rezaz, a Mediterranean place on the edge of the Village. With so many tempting things on the menu it was not an easy decision (hard to turn away from paella!), but I chose the smoked duck breast over crimini risotto—probably some of the best risotto I’ve ever had. I also sampled the house Sangria, made with red wine, spiced rum, and fruit juice.

Oatmeal. That’s what I told myself I’d have for breakfast the next day—that I’d be sensible. I again headed for the Village, thinking I might have to end up at Starbucks. But then I saw a sign for Books & Breadboard. I had a little trouble figuring it out (a sign that says Antiques is prominent, but it certainly looked like some of it was a small bookstore/breakfast/lunch place). Then I saw the small “Café: Breakfast, lunch” sign. I looked at the menu while the waitress told me how wonderful the French toast is. Who said oatmeal? The French toast was everything she said it was and more. Drizzled with an orange syrup, it didn’t need the butter or maple syrup that came with it. Lovely fruit assortment on the side. I recognized some of the books on their shelves as titles I've reviewed for the Greensboro News-Record; nice to see those old friends.

No lunch, quel suprise. Really, at this point I didn't care much about dinner either. We had been hoping to have a drink on the Sunset Terrace of the Grove Park Inn, which everyone should do at least once in life, but they were booked. (And I've since been told that the Flatiron Building downtown has a "better sunset" but that would have to be proved to me and I'll be happy to put it to the test on another visit.)

Instead we went into town--our last night. The place was hopping with tourists and locals and street musicians. The weather was perfect for dining outside. We landed at Sante Wine Bar, but did not have the flight. Instead we stayed grounded in a little wine and some spreads and crackers. A very nice way to end the week.

I did not get to every restaurant in Biltmore Village, but I did manage a very nice sampling. My recommendation: do a little research and a little walking, like I did. I promise you'll find something you like.

CORNER KITCHEN:

 

 

JULIAN'S:

Julian's on Urbanspoon

 

 

RED STAG GRILL:

 

 

REZAZ:

 

 

SANTE WINE BAR:

Sante on Urbanspoon