T's Travels

Josephine's Downtown, Lancaster, PA

I heard the name Josephine

It came to me in a dream

—Frank Turner

(Not really, but these days I’ll use pretty much any excuse to quote Frank Turner.)

 

Husb and I are hitting another anniversary and so wanted to celebrate with a nice dinner out. We often go to Blue Heron in York but I was in the mood for something different, a place we hadn’t yet tried. We settled on a local place that has had rave reviews and a menu we could agree on. But when I went on Open Table to make a reservation, something else—a familiar name—popped up. Josephine’s!

For years Husb and I would make the trek to Marietta for a lovely Country French meal at Josephine’s. When the new chef came in, we didn’t mind one bit and continued to go for special occasions. When it closed, we missed it.

So to see the name again this week? Surely, it must be . . . and it is! Right in the heart of Lancaster City and serving contemporary American food. This was meant to be—even though it was an hour’s drive (and at rush hour), we had to go.

One complaint people often have about restaurants in cities is “where do we park?” That’s not a problem at Josephine’s Downtown—it is next to a large public parking lot. Couldn’t be more simple.

Sometimes you can just feel that good things are coming and I certainly did when I saw the elegant exterior of the restaurant. Once inside, we were greeted with a smile and led to our table. Because I had selected “anniversary” on the Open Table reservation, not only did everyone wish us a happy anniversary, but when we opened our menus there was a personal card saying it as well!

I’d looked at their Facebook page so I already had an idea of what I was going to order, but Husb didn’t. As I looked over the menu, though, I wavered. So many things looked so good. Black cod? Risotto? Duck breast? The decision was not going to be as easy as I thought.

We started with wine, a lovely Cabernet Sauvignon for me and an absolutely incredible Old Vine Zinfandel for him. For an appetizer, Husb ordered the Warm Cauliflower and Barley Salad (roasted butter beans, herb emulsion, lemon vinaigrette, radish, celery leaves, shaved fennel, raisins) without the lemon vinaigrette (because he prefers me to be the only zest in his life). It was seasoned so well he didn’t miss the dressing at all.

His entrée was the braised short rib (butternut squash custard, roasted pearl onion, roasted chanterelle, black garlic demi, togarashi, micro basil, micro lemon balm). The short rib absolutely fell apart with a fork—divine would be a good word for it. He doesn’t like mushrooms either but he sampled the chanterelle after giving me most of them and was sorry he had let them go. Is it possible we have found a mushroom he will eat?

After all my considerations, I went back to what I had thought I would order. I started with the Caesar salad (baby romaine, rosemary bread crumbs, parmesan). It was simple, not overly dressed, excellent. And then I had something everyone who doesn’t have a seafood allergy should have: the Butternut Squash Bisque (king crab, spiced pepita, white chocolate powder, cilantro pudding, chive blossom, micro cilantro). I had seen the picture of this online (the picture I’m using) and it called my name. They serve you the bowl with the crab, etc., in place, and then pour the cream over it all. Presentation counts but even if they hadn’t done that, it still would have been a dream (just like the name Josephine). This is the soup I will want every time I go back. Because you know I will.

We ordered tarts for dessert but before they arrived we were served flutes of champagne to toast our anniversary! What a nice surprise. When we were first married, it felt like every time we turned around someone was handing us champagne to celebrate; this little touch took me right back to that.

My tart was the Apple (green apple, Calvados custard, apple honey glaze) with a little scoop of caramel ice cream on top. Husb had the Chocolate Pecan (orange sassafras cream, micro mint) but switched the orange sassafras cream out for coconut ice cream because, well, orange (plus all ice creams are made by the restaurant).

I can’t tell you when we’ve had a better dining experience. We’ve had some very good ones over the years, including in Philadelphia and DC, and this one has made it into the top five of all time list. Part of our conversation during dinner was (a) figuring out which of our friends will want to know about this place and (b) when would we be coming back. Because you know we will.

 

Beach H[e]aven, NJ

Sometimes even just a few days at the beach makes a difference. Maybe it’s not enough to get a real break from the daily onslaught of reality and unreality, but staring at the ocean for a couple of hours over the course of two days, walking along the edge of the surf, watching the sun set over the sound, or stargazing after sunset can make a difference. Especially if you’re with an old friend you don’t get to spend a lot of time with and you’re down toward the southern end of Long Beach Island (NJ), in Beach Haven, and the weather is perfect.

That’s how I spent two days last week—beach time, me and Marge, towels, chairs, sand, plenty of sunblock. Can’t post pictures of restaurant food because we never went out! Can’t recommend any businesses because we never did any shopping! The most we did was buy a few groceries and drive down to the end of the island because I’ve only been to LBI once, when I was a child.

Being together with Marge felt like the old days. Back before I got married, she and I had lived across a fire escape from each other and would often put together our dinners by “I have some of this, you have some of that …” We did the same thing at the beach.

We had also spent a lot of time in clubs with bands. A lot. These days she’s a Dave Matthews fan so at the beach house we were constantly doing a battle of the bands between DMB and Frank Turner (with and without the Sleeping Souls). I think I won but she certainly did educate me on the depth of Dave’s music and the guitar stylings of Tim Reynolds. (We even had a little Frank moment on the beach when I was wearing a Be More Kind shirt and ran into someone who said, “I don’t believe it! Frank Turner!”—a highlight of the trip.)

The best part of being on the beach was watching the surfers. I’ve been to California plenty of times but I never saw better waves than were breaking at Beach Haven while we were there. The surfers took full advantage, morning and evening. I could have stayed for days just to watch them.

But work and the real world called. And I answered. Thought about putting a little sand in my suitcase so that when I got back home it would spill out on the floor and I would feel beach a little longer. But I knew that then I would just have to pull out the vacuum cleaner and I wasn’t eager to get that far back into reality. I can’t say this enough: If you get an opportunity to go visit the ocean, even if it’s just for a few days, take it. Beach. It’s worth it.

I-scream

Ever start out headed somewhere only to end up somewhere else—and it’s not a bad thing? My sister and I made plans to meet at Way-Har Farms in Bernville for lunch and then go see Roadside America. Then we found out it was a day when Roadside America was closed. My sister was crushed (I’ve seen it, she has not) but that experience will have to wait for another time.

So we changed direction and decided to meet in Adamstown and have lunch at Boehringer’s Drive-In. My sister got there first and found it was all outdoor eating. Not a bad thing, just too hot for the two of us to deal with. And based on the crowded parking lot, I’d say it was not a problem for most folks! Another visit that will have to wait.

So we headed a few buildings away to Dave’s Diner, a place you might miss if you’re not looking for it. We were there after lunch time (and, sadly, after breakfast was no longer being served). It was National Hot Dog Day recently and so I indulged—I can’t tell you the last time I saw a hotdog with the accordion cut to it! Sister had a cheeseburger. In other words, diner food. The diner itself was in as good a shape as I’ve seen in the many diners I’ve visited; that was a real treat (picture is from their FB page).

Dessert? If you’ve read my blog, you know that’s not a question. In the “what a great idea!” category, Pennsylvania has come up with a new tourism game: “Pursue Your Scoops” ice cream trails, one each for western PA, southcentral PA, and eastern PA. Buy some ice cream, get your “passport” stamped, and when you get to five you win a free t-shirt. So we needed to find an ice cream location where my sister could get her stamp—she’s almost got enough for the shirt.

Thank you, internet, we found Fox Meadows Creamery just outside Ephrata. In addition to ice cream, they serve lunch and have a little farm market. Still a hot day and the line for ice cream was long. No complaints—it gave us time to decide what to get (and also to discover that they sell Shuey’s pretzels, so I saved a trip to Lebanon). After considering the S’mores and the Shoofly pie flavors (for real), I settled on a less adventurous combo of “Vine-ripened black raspberry” and “Lemon crunch” (crunch was lemon Oreos). It was lovely. Sister went local with the Wilbur’s chocolate and added mint chocolate chip, which she really liked. (Photo here is from their FB page because I'd left my phone in the car.)

And now not only is she only one stamp away from her shirt but I have one stamp for myself as well! I’m going to have to move fast—it all ends on September 2. Ice cream trail, here I come!

Hotels of the Past, #39

The Hotel Belvedere in Apollo, PA, burned down a couple of nights ago. I have driven past it many times without giving it a thought beyond "boy, that building is huge!" It was a commanding presence even though it's been vacant a long time. I'll let the Dark Matters & Mysteries blog fill you in a little more.

"Scenic views"

The road not taken . . .

On the road again . .

I’ll take the high road . . .

The road beneath my feet . . .

or, actually. the road we like to drive. Husb and I were coming home from Plant a Tree at Flight 93 yesterday (an annual event to help the Park Service fulfill the design of the Flight 93 National Memorial). It was a glorious spring day and so we took the long way home—Route 30, the Lincoln Highway, down the mountain past the site where the Ark used to be, past Bedford, and on beyond Breezewood where it’s hills and curves and very little traffic.

Just at the top of one hill we saw a sign that said, “Bark Road. Scenic view” with an arrow to the right. Never noticed it before, but okay. We have regularly mocked “scenic view” signs since (a very long time ago) we tried to drive a long distance on the Blue Ridge Parkway and overdosed on “scenic” views—on that trip, by the end we just didn’t care anymore. And you know, some “scenic” views are only in the eye of the beholder.

But yesterday was gorgeous and we were in no hurry so we bit. Gravel road, back and back and back. And there it was on the left, a break in the trees, some neatly mowed grass. And a crowd of people taking some sort of family picture; one family member appeared to be in a dance costume. So we kept driving. Passed a number of houses perched on the edge of that scenic view before we could find a place to turn around. (FYI, according to Google Maps, Bark Road goes the whole way down to I-70.) And when we got back to “scenic view,” it was inhabited by a lone motorcyclist. I apologized for interrupting his solitude but he said he was leaving anyway.

Yes, it is definitely a scenic view. And definitely worth the little drive from the highway.  The view goes on forever.

When we left, a mother and daughter were stopping to look. This must be a regular destination for some people on sunny days. This is definitely one scenic view you should take.

Washington DC once more

I don’t usually do this, but I want to get this on the record soon and my work schedule will not allow a leisurely description of my (most recent) three days in Washington. So we’re going to take the trip through my pictures. Hope you enjoy!

We arrived midday midweek—picked up our friends at the train and had a quick lunch at Le Pain Quotidien in Union Station. From there we walked down to the Library of Congress. They have a Herblock Gallery and the present exhibit, “Herblock Looks at 1968: Fifty Years Ago in Editorial Cartoons,” was on my husband’s list of must-sees. I chose this day for Capitol Hill because Michael Cohen was due to testify the next day and I figured it would be a madhouse. But—as you can see—all was quiet at the Capitol.

The Herblock exhibit was excellent! And it’s only on display for another week so if you’re going, get there!

From there we walked to the Postal Museum. Didn’t know we had one? Well, we do and it is spectacular. Present exhibits include flower stamps, World War I letters from the front, the history of airmail . . . and many more. I spoke with the very youthful gift shop clerk and said, “Do you even understand this stuff?” He laughed because he understood what I was saying. It’s a great place to take children, plenty of hands-on stuff and mail vehicles and mailboxes . . . Show the USPS some love and visit sometime.

Dinner that evening was at El Chalan, which I have already sung the praises of. We spent the night at Adams Inn, a bed-and-breakfast in Adams Morgan, a new section of town for this regular DC visitor. Very comfortable accommodations in a third-floor room, clean, and convenient to restaurants in every ethnic form you can name just a few blocks away on 18th Street.

Our next day—Cold! Windy! But it didn’t have snow or rain so all was good. And, honestly, what else would you expect in March? We started at the National Portrait Gallery. Actually, we tried to start there, but it turns out they don’t open until 11:30 a.m. That was a surprise. So we wandered around the neighborhood, down to Ford’s Theater (but didn’t buy the tour—one of these days I will), and back in time for the gallery opening. I headed straight for the portraits of Barack and Michelle Obama, of course.

Because the Smithsonian museums are free you can just walk out and walk back in again (I love that). So after a little while we headed over to Rosa Mexicano for lunch. This was probably the biggest surprise of our visit. I hadn’t researched this place (we avoid chains as a rule but I didn’t dig that far), just saw that it was Mexican food, which would be popular with all of us, and it was convenient to the gallery, so we went. Really good. Get the guacamole or you will be sorry. Just make sure you have enough people to eat all of it.

After that, it was back to the gallery to look at Civil War era daguerreotypes. A social comment here: I am visually disabled (not just an age thing). I carry a flashlight, which helps. Art galleries often have low light. I understand that art has to be protected. But the contrast between reading descriptions at the Herblock Gallery (where everything was written in a solid font on a white background) and the National Portrait Gallery/Smithsonian American Art Museum (where descriptions were much harder to read) was significant for me. Having an audio tour does not solve the problem—I love the peace that happens when you stand in front of art and having a stranger’s voice in my ears would ruin that.

Enough of a PSA. The galleries were fabulous. And the orchid display in the courtyard was amazing! Cold and windy? Not in there!

We spent our entire day in those galleries. When it came time to move on (our friends had a dinner date with other folks) we just headed back to the inn. Husb and I had no dinner plans—lunch had been quite enough.

The last day—the Newseum, which is closing at the end of the year so you must go! (According to a docent I spoke with, they are looking for a new, smaller location—I hope they find it.) We only had the morning but we made the most of it, starting in the Pulitzer Prize-winning photos exhibit, which was very emotional; the photos are gut-wrenching powerful.  From there we moved to the editorial cartoons (following the Herblock theme of a few days before), past where school kids were playing newscaster, and on to a display featuring the Berlin Wall. They actually have part of the Wall on display. And we ended on a more cheerful note, the funny pages!

One of the things I love about DC is its walkability. And when you do walk, you often come across things that surprise you. As we walked back to Union Station from the Newseum, we came across the Japanese American Memorial to Patriotism in World War II on Lousiana Street NW. It names the internment camps and how many people were at each one. Not the finest moment in American history but one we should not forget.

So that’s my whirlwind tour of DC. I have been to the monuments (including the NPS van tour), walked the Mall, pretty much immersed myself in DC touring for years.  And yet this visit I did not go anywhere I had been to before (with the exception of the National Portrait Gallery). And I still have places I want to see!

The Old Sled Works, Duncannon, PA

Picture it (which should be easy because it’s what we’ve been living): Days and days of gray and white—clouds and snow, snow and clouds, slush, ice, snow again. Never all that deep but definitely persistent. Cap it off with a nasty polar vortex of cold.  But just when you think it’s never going to end, it does. You are greeted by a glorious sunny Sunday. The mercury rises toward 50, snow melts all over the place, the sun is so bright it makes you squint. Gotta get out and do something!

What a great day to head to the Old Sled Works in Duncannon, PA! Based on the full parking lot, we certainly weren’t the only ones thinking that walking around an antique center perusing stuff from the 20th century (or older) was a good way to spend the day. While we’re seasoned flea market/antique place visitors (hello Renninger’s Extravaganza!), and the Old Sled Works is just across the river from Harrisburg, PA, we had never been there.

Over the years, we’ve read, been told, witnessed that eBay has had a significant impact on the local flea-market market. Too many times we’d go somewhere and it was just tables and tables of stuff that they couldn’t sell on eBay—the good items were out on the Internet. Well, you can’t have a day of walking and chatting and laughing and sharing memories with an eBay vendor. Which makes it so much more significant that the Old Sled Works is the real thing—not just a bunch of leftover junk but stands and stands (we did a lot of walking) full of household goods, furniture, tools, memorabilia. Since it’s February and Super Bowl Sunday we saw both Valentine’s decorations and football souvenirs.

That would have been enough for me. But then things got even better! There’s a soda fountain. It had been closed for a number of years and just reopened in December. Soup, sandwiches, local ice cream. Lots of authentic décor and some really cool gadgets on display. It was a long walk to get there but you’ll work up an appetite, too. The very old TVs on display were playing Three Stooges shorts so we even had entertainment while we ate.

And if that isn’t enough, would you believe small museums? If I coulda rolled in them, I woulda! Instead I just walked through them—the Old Sled Works (yes, it was once a factory), the transportation section, the antique games. I was thrilled to see pinball machines. The real kind, pre-fancy electronic controls. I hit my husband up for a quarter to play one. I didn’t do too well but then it takes a lot of quarters to get to know a machine. I didn’t care (much); it was bliss just to play. (There are also some other machines for playing, including a real Pong. Boop! Boop!)

In one very weird (to me) moment I was transported back to my college days when I came across the Alaskaland player piano. The note says it was taken out of the Colonial Park Alaskaland—I didn’t know there was more than one. My point of reference was always Altoona (ever have an Aleutian volcano? Bet you can’t finish it!).

We covered the entire place but it took a while. I even walked up the very old stairs to the second floor for a bit. I asked to see a bracelet in a case, Husb picked up a book, no big purchases but many things to consider for later. We came out into the bright sun and warmth (the car said it was indeed 50) and headed home. It won’t be long before we’re back there again. The Old Sled Works makes for a great day!

 

Duffy's Tavern, Boalsburg, PA

Show of hands—how many of you Penn Staters from the east have been to Boalsburg? I do not mean driving through on 322, I mean actually going into town. Okay, how many of you have been to Duffy’s Tavern in Boalsburg? No, not the Boalsburg Steak House (now Kelly’s) with the cow on the roof. I mean Duffy’s Tavern just off the square in the sweet little town of Boalsburg. I will admit—until recently this writer is guilty of having never set foot (or car) in Boalsburg proper.

Passing though and meeting a friend for lunch. Didn’t feel like dealing with the traffic and weather of downtown State College. I said I felt like “tavern food,” friend Patty said “Duffy’s in Boalsburg.” (She’s been there but then again she’s local.)

The building has been around since the early 1800s (history here) and was actually owned by a Duffy at one time (extra points for any readers who know the radio show of the same name!). After a devastating fire in the 1930s, the new owners salvaged what they could of the original to use in the rebuild. Today Duffy’s is a classic Pennsylvania tavern, warm and comfortable, yet with a few surprises.

Winter means soup, right? Crab bisque for me and chicken corn chowder (soup of the day) for Patty. Sandwiches: I had a hankering for grilled cheese and Duffy’s answered with quite the combination: white cheddar cheese, very thinly sliced Granny Smith apples, thick bacon, and Dijon aioli on sourdough bread. Delicious as that was, however, Patty’s sandwich was the star of the meal: she had a chivito. What, you’ve never heard of the national sandwich of Uruguay? Shaved beef, cucumber, onion, bell pepper, lettuce, tomato, and chipotle mayonnaise on a ciabatta. We could not quite figure out how the beef was seasoned but it was delicious.

You don’t dine with Patty without going full Monty—meaning dessert. Lemon cream cake? Or how about a little bourbon bundt cake? Oh no, I couldn’t! Well, maybe a little . . .

It should be no surprise that Duffy’s is now on my permanent list of options for dining in the area. I even took a little stroll in Riley on Main, a lovely home décor and gift shop right next door to Duffy’s. Don’t know why I missed Boalsburg all these years but I won’t anymore.

The Chocolate of Your Dreams

Tis the season . . . for chocolate, yes? Thanks to my friend Violet I now know of a little place tucked away in a Harrisburg, PA, neighborhood that creates the best chocolate I have ever eaten. Ever. Let me introduce you to Frederic Loraschi Chocolate.

I was planning on taking Husb there as an Easter surprise but then he wanted to get his sister a little thank you gift of chocolate so I spilled the (cocoa?) beans and we went this past week. Just off 22/Jonestown Road on Hillcrest (your GPS will get you there just fine), the bright yellow awnings can’t be missed.

Chocolate bars. Caramels. Truffles. Confections. Drinking chocolate. And at the moment unique Easter eggs. Husb bought himself some delicate little chocolates and cocoa-covered almonds, as well as something for his sister. I picked up some caramels (salted butter this time because I wanted to start with the basics, passion fruit next time).

This store is a gift to central Pennsylvania (and they do mail order if you don’t live here!). If you appreciate really fine chocolate, Frederic Loraschi is the place to go.

Normally my review would end here. However, yesterday this popped up on my FB page:

 

Apricot tart? Wow! They bake, too? I stopped by toward the end of the day and was very lucky that any were left. . . .

For those of you who know me, you understand when I say if I needed a hostess gift, I would consider bringing something from Frederic Loraschi instead of making it myself. So invite me to your house. I will bring you chocolate.

(Photos are from the website and quite true to life.)

The Millworks, Harrisburg, PA

Who doesn’t love a good brunch? Mixing breakfast foods with lunch foods, a little cocktail, a little coffee—genius! And if you add in a little shopping and a visit to a museum, it’s perfection. No, I was not in Philadelphia or New York or even Baltimore. I was in Harrisburg, yes, the capital city of Pennsylvania, the quiet little place (at least when there are no elections and the Farm Show is over) in the middle of the state.

Miss C wanted to come to the ’Burg to see the Ansel Adams exhibit at the Susquehanna Art Museum (hurry, it ends January 21) and of course we wanted a meal. She is my “I’m going to ___ city, what are the good restaurants?” friend because she always knows the best. But she left this choice up to me. Harrisburg is full of good brunch possibilities and I was having trouble choosing until I talked to another friend, who said, “The Millworks.” She and others had been recommending the Millworks to me for a few years, it was just a couple of blocks from the museum, it was a great suggestion. “Best Bloody Marys,” she also said but that fell on deaf ears (not my thing—give me a mimosa anytime).

Easy to find (actually, almost anything in Harrisburg is easy to find), the Millworks is next to the Broad Street Market (oldest farmers market in the country!). Free parking (yea!). Industrial interior with a lot of recycled materials (read the “About Us” for the full story).  Even with the high ceiling it didn’t seem terribly loud (but this was brunch, I know, not a Friday night after-work crowd—I would assume it’s hopping then). Mimosas, anyone?

The menu made it hard to choose—numerous options out of the ordinary--but in the end I went with the scallops and grits (New Jersey Day Boat scallops, stone ground grits, arugula, poached egg). Miss C had the country fried chicken and sausage gravy biscuit (house made buttermilk biscuits, cream sausage gravy, Green Ridge Acres free-range chicken, bourbon-maple syrup). Next time I’m going for the smoked brisket tacos . . . Servings were generous but not enormous (kudos for that!). And I had apple cobbler for dessert.

Usually my reviews end here, right? Well, not this time! The Millworks is not only a restaurant and brewery, it’s also an artists’ community. Want pottery, jewelry, paintings, silkscreened clothing? They’ve got it all. What is not restaurant in the building is divided up into small studios for artists to work and sell their works. Not every artist was in while we were there but we did get to watch a potter at the wheel and talk to a jewelry designer.

When we had seen everything we could, we moved a few blocks down the street to the Susquehanna Art Museum for the Ansel Adams exhibit. His early works are on display in this former bank building; you can see the beginning of what became his iconic photographic style.

One last stop before we said our goodbyes—down Third Street to the Midtown Scholar, Harrisburg’s large, independent bookstore, where Miss C picked up a copy of Madeleine L'Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time and we both admired Lair of the Lion: A History of Beaver Stadium, written by Lee Stout and Harry H. West  (which I had the pleasure to edit last year but hadn’t yet seen in print).

And all of this in Harrisburg, PA! There are many other businesses in Midtown (e.g., see my Yellow Bird Café review) but you need to explore to find them. You can always get a good sampling by going to Third in the Burg. And  a great way to stay informed is to subscribe to The Burg, a real local newspaper—they will let you know what’s going on . . .