T's Travels

Selin's Grove Brewing

If you're at all like me, you have a list of places people told you about that you'll "have to stop at" if you're "ever in that place." Selin's Grove Brewing in Selinsgrove, PA, has been on my list for at least 10 years. Someone at work told my husband about it and we've said so many times, Oh, we should try that.

Well, we finally did. I've been there for lunch twice in the past six months, first with Mary the Photographer and then with my husband. Located on the ground floor of an old house on the main street, it's easy to miss (look for the sign on the east side of the road). The house has its own history, being built by PA's third governor, Simon Snyder, in 1816 (website has a longer history and directions to the governor's gravesite!).

I didn't even realize it on my first visit but the menu says "no fryer or grill here" so it's sandwiches, wraps, soups. (Mary and I had had soup and split a wrap.) On my recent visit Joe had the Santa Fe wrap and asked for some changes: no problem! I had the Pubstrami (that's not a typo) with a wonderful horseradish dressing.

Since it's a microbrewery, of course we ordered beer. He had the Triple, I had Scottish ale. I noticed on both my visits that Selin's Grove beer is distinctive--in a good way. I've now sampled five different brews and these beers are not the least bit shy; this is beer meant to be experienced, not guzzled. The menu even specifies which brews will not be sold as growlers because their quality will diminish on the trip home.

Selinsgrove has some nice little shops. On both visits we walked around town and stopped at the artists' co-op and the bookstore. We even talked to one business owner about where to eat and our preference for local (non-chain) establishments. After telling us about all these little places in town the proprietor then sheepishly admitted she was headed out to Applebee's on the Selinsgrove Strip for lunch. There are some other restaurants on the main street that look interesting, but Selin's Grove is now permanently on my "I'll have to stop there next time I'm in town" list.

Oxford, PA

For the past five years I’ve been going to Oxford, PA, once a week to visit my mother. In those many visits I’ve had the opportunity to sample nearly every restaurant in the area. We’ve had Italian, Mexican, American modern, American retro—you name it. Oxford is a great example of a small town full of good local dining. What I mention here is in no way a comprehensive list.

Over the years we’ve seen restaurants come and go in town. Peppercorns has now been replaced by Muse but we haven’t had the opportunity to try it. The tea room on the corner has been replaced by a store for children, much to my sister’s regret. I haven’t yet eaten in the new Mexican place but I recently had a mushroom-cheesesteak at La Sicilia on Route 10. We miss the Oxford Seafood Company and hope George and his family are doing well. The Miss Oxford Diner is a landmark and the place my mother and I ate when we first came to Oxford. I will never forget the waitresses’ kindness to my mother over the years—or their Boston crème pie.

One of my mother’s (and my) favorite places is Morning Glories Coffees and Teas, a small place on Market Street right downtown. The food is always fresh and creative, from the salads to soups that can only be described as beautiful and delicious. The lunch menu has some staples, such as the Mediterranean plate (hummus and pita, greens--my mother’s favorite) to a traditional, chunky, savory chicken salad. We have been there so many times that the owners greet us as locals. Definitely worth a visit.

A few blocks from the main street is Numzees Tavern and Grill. My sister and I go there when we’re in the mood for a beer with lunch or a substantial crabcake. Most days the place is packed but we’ve never had to wait for a seat for more than a few minutes; the waitstaff really hustles. Warning: Their French fries are addictive, but they will give you a smaller serving if you ask. And I just discovered they’re about to start offering coupons on their website. I think there’s a crabcake in my future!

The most recent addition to the area is in Nottingham, which is right next to Oxford and home of Herr’s. In fact, it was Herr’s who bought the Nottingham Inn and is now in the process of rehabbing it into a hotel (more on that later). For now they’ve opened the Nottingham Inn Kitchen & Creamery. Delectable local-based food with some out-of-the-ordinary menu items, like a barley salad or a crab omelette. Another place where the fries are recommended—here they come speckled with cracked black pepper. There’s even a dinner menu beyond the lunchtime soups, salads, and sandwiches, but I haven’t tried that (or dessert!) yet.

Oxford is another one of those towns just off a main road (Route 1, America’s first interstate!), full of local businesses that people have no idea exist. Get off Route 1 at Route 476 or Route 10 and drive into Oxford. You won’t have any difficulty finding a good place to eat.

Ohio, part 2: On "the Road" again

We had a nice time in Cincinnati and I was sorry to leave my husband. But once I was on Interstate 70 I couldn’t wait to get to the exit outside Zanesville and head for the National Road Museum/Zane Grey Museum. I actually had to drive on Route 40, which felt right because what had originally been the National Road is now I-70 and Route 40.

I pulled into a nearly empty parking lot (it was, after all, a school day) and walked into the large building housing not only the two museums I came for but—wait! there’s more!--also the Ohio Pottery Museum. Curator Kat Miller greeted me and sold me my ticket. Kat is very passionate about the museum and was happy to show me around.

Those readers born after President Eisenhower’s interstate road system was created might not be familiar with the National Road, “America’s first federally planned and funded highway” (see Karl Raitz, ed., The National Road). The original plan was for a route from Cumberland, Maryland, through southwestern Pennsylvania, to Wheeling, West Virginia. Building the road began in 1806. By 1850 it stretched to Vandalia, Illinois, and beyond.

A centerpiece of the museum is a huge Conestoga wagon, which is what the first travelers used—Henry Ford was still 100 years in the future. When I see artifacts like the wagon, I try to imagine my 20th/21st-century self in them. No, couldn’t do it this time. No upholstery, no bathrooms along the road, and most likely plenty of potholes.

There were places to stop, though. Drovers’ stations were the 19th-century equivalent of truck stops—places for those hauling goods or livestock long distances. Once stagecoaches really started carrying people west in numbers, taverns sprung up to meet the demand for food and rest. The museum’s very impressive diorama (largest in existence when it was built) of the National Road, from its early days under construction up to the 1920s, when it became Route 40, illustrates that growth.

The National Road witnessed the evolution of travel in America. Once the railroad system developed in the mid-1800s, the National Road became more a farm-to-market highway. But by the beginning of the 20th century cars were starting to take to the road, and so the museum has a ca. 1899 steam-powered automobile (which I couldn’t picture myself in either!).

From there I moved into the Zane Grey Museum section. I had visited the Zane Grey Museum in Lackawaxen, PA, as part of my first book. Grey is considered the “Father of the Western Novel,” and the PA museum is his home on the Delaware Water Gap. I was curious to see how Ohio would add to my Zane Grey experience.

The answer is “quite well.” The Ohio museum contains artifacts donated by Grey’s widow. I saw movie posters, book illustrations, even his dentist license! This “High Priest of the Outdoors” (he had more than one title) loved deep-sea fishing so the museum has a chair and rod and reel for marlin fishing.

My favorite display was a complete replica of his study in Altadena, CA, including a lap-board desk. I love seeing writers’ work areas—I always wonder if they daydreamed, procrastinated, doodled (these days it would be playing Solitaire on the computer, not that I would know anything about that). With the aid of his editor-wife Dolly, Grey completed 120 books, so he was certainly doing something right.

The final section of this multifaceted museum is Ohio pottery. Zanesville, Weller, Rookwood, Roseville—can you say Antiques Roadshow? That was the extent of my familiarity with these names and, honestly, television does not do this pottery justice. These pieces were breathtaking in person.

When I first saw “National Road Museum/Zane Grey Museum” (and then the pottery), I wondered why they were together. But while you may not at first think these three subjects are related, they do have a common theme. A road, a writer, and works of art: all American crafted.

This museum is a great stop on a very long interstate. If you can’t make it to the museum anytime soon, you can watch this video on YouTube. I left the museum with one more stop to make . . .

To be continued . . .

Ohio, part 1: Drive, she said

In what was surely a moment of insanity, I agreed to meet my husband in Cincinnati (in fact, I suggested it!). But I had to teach on Tuesday night, he had to be in Cincy by noon on Wednesday. It would be a 466-mile trip. So he flew, I drove.

I dropped him off at the airport at 6:00 am (still dark!), filled my tank, and hit the Pennsylvania turnpike. As the sun came up in my rearview mirror I thought, “only eight hours and I’m there!”

One of the perks of driving alone is not having to coordinate rest stops or food preferences with a traveling companion. I stopped at the first rest area for breakfast. I stopped at the second rest area for more coffee without anyone saying, “We just stopped!” I wasn’t the only one, either—I was amused to see some of the people in line from the last place.

After that, it was tunnel, tunnel, road work, tunnel. I kept punching the buttons on my radio but I could feel the boredom taking over. Two hours on the road and I was already bored? I told myself it was just because I knew the turnpike so well and it would improve when I got off.

At the New Stanton exit I headed south on I-70. Maybe it was because I was driving alone, but the local place names started to strike me as funny. Hunker, Wyano, Twilight . . . I took a picture of the sign at the Lover exit and tried to come up with their town slogan, but “Lover is for Lovers” just didn’t sound like it would bring in the tourists.

Finally, I crossed into West Virginia. Yes, I sang “Almost Heaven . . . “ At Wheeling I saw a sign for the “Doc and Chickie Williams Highway, Country Music’s Royal Couple.” I wouldn’t know until I got home that Doc Williams had just passed away a few months before. He and his wife, Chickie, often performed on Jamboree USA in Wheeling and all over the country (see www.docwilliams.com for their entire story).

West Virginia passed in nearly the blink of an eye. I stopped at a Sheetz convenience store and thought, “This could be Pennsylvania except for the beer on sale.” But the beer was also Pennsylvanian--Yuengling!

And then Ohio—only four hours, I thought (not nearly as brightly as I’d embraced the idea of eight hours five hours ago). I tried to convince myself that Ohio would be interesting since it was territory I had only crossed once before, and that was in the backseat of a car squeezed between my mother-in-law and her sister as we headed for a family reunion. But I soon realized that Ohio looks a lot like Pennsylvania, except the font on the road signs is different.

And then I saw a sign. Not something supernatural, but a real sign on the side of the road. It read “Zane Grey Museum/National Road Museum.” Wow! I thought. It’s like Ohio knew I—collector of small museums—was coming. Pennsylvania has a Zane Grey Museum and of course I wanted to compare the two. And I had edited The National Road, a two-volume set on the history of what became Route 40, so of course I had to see that as well.

But I was still on my mad dash across Ohio. I had to be in Cincinnati within a few hours, so I made a note to stop on my return trip. Energized, I kept driving. It was a relief to turn south at Columbus and then finally see Cincinnati ahead. I checked into the Garfield Suites only an hour later than I had planned, which for me is pretty good.

To be continued . . .

Edith's Kitchen, Catawissa, PA

One of the best things about researching a new travel book is getting back on the road. And one research source I didn’t have last time—the Internet--is now a major source of information for me. It’s a great way to find those places I wouldn’t necessarily see otherwise.

On a sunny winter day Mary the Photographer and I drove north toward the small town of Catawissa. I had been reading about the cabooses in Catawissa (say that three times fast!) and came across an ad for Edith’s Kitchen. Once I saw the “Mess” on the menu, I knew we had to eat there.

When people travel, they are sometimes uncomfortable walking into a “local” establishment, feeling out of place, thinking everyone else knows each other. But at Edith’s we felt at home immediately. A sunny, warm room with freshly painted walls covered in eclectic “art” (the Mona Lisa, framed flowers, a lumberman’s saw, pretty much anything they felt like putting up), a waitress bantering with customers. Edith’s is a few blocks off the main street but clearly no one has problems finding it—nearly every table was taken.

The menu as posted on the Internet is comprehensive and includes “The Mess,” which they explain by saying, “we figure it all goes to the same place anyway.” That’s my kind of attitude! The waitress handed us the lunch menu. Even though it wasn’t on the lunch menu I suspect if I had asked for a Mess, they would have accommodated me, but the grilled eggplant sandwich sounded so good. Mary ordered the “grilled cheese and rustic tomato soup.”

While we were waiting for our meals, we read an article posted on the wall about the restaurant’s beginnings. Sean and Shauna Thomas opened their establishment in December 2010 hoping to give diners some fresh, local fare. In September 2011, like so many other places, the restaurant flooded from the dual impact of Hurricane Irene and Tropical Storm Lee. Unfortunately, having been open less than a year they weren’t eligible for government assistance. But with a lot of help from friends and family Edith’s Kitchen was saved.

And when I saw our lunch, I wanted to thank those people. My grilled eggplant sandwich, on very fresh bread, was heavenly. And Mary’s soup was both delicious and large (when they say “hearty bowl,” they’re not kidding). The waitress convinced me to try the banana cream pie as well. Edith’s is not a place you’re going to leave hungry.

After we ate, we wandered around the train cars next door (the season runs April to October so they were all closed up). Then we headed north toward our next destination and talked about when we could come back to Catawissa just so we could eat at Edith’s Kitchen.

Forget the fast food stop if you’re driving Interstate 80 near Bloomsburg. Take Route 42 (exit 232) 6 miles south and have lunch at Edith’s Kitchen in Catawissa. This is exactly the kind of place that gives “local” a good name.

Photograph (c) 2012 Mary Brenner