Pennsylvania Part 2: Pittsburgh

Continuing our the chronicles of our trip to Pennsylvania, after leaving the Poconos, we arrived back in Pittsburgh late Tuesday afternoon, after one slight mishap in which I got confused about East and West because THE OCEAN IS TOTALLY ON THE WRONG SIDE OVER THERE.

Anyway, we drove straight to the house of his mom and her husband, where we had a small snack before heading to the Mattress Factory on the North Side. The Mattress Factory is a museum that focuses on installation pieces. Personally, I am not as into Modern or contemporary art as I am into more traditional paintings and sculptures. However, I do really enjoy installation art, because it usually involves some level of interaction on the part of the viewer. The Mattress Factory had a lot of okay pieces and a lot of neat pieces. My favorites were all part of the permanent collection: the works of Yayoi Kusama, Greer Lankton, and James Turrell.

On our way to the Mattress Factory we also discovered Randyland, a collection of unique and colorful buildings on the corner of Jacksonia and Arch. It was a strange sight, so after our visit to the Mattress Factory we walked over to inspect the oddity. Every surface is painted in a bright color, and decorated with odds and ends that seem to be scavenged from all manner of sources. Curious, I looked for information about this eclectic corner online and found a Post-Gazette article that lead me to a Today show segment (which I'm only really linking to because it has good views of the building and uses Explosions in the Sky for some of the background music). Both describe the Randy behind it all, so if you're interested follow one of the links.

We needed to drop off the rental car, and Matt's brother Mike was kind enough to pick us up from the airport and join us for a trip the ballpark. I'm told by the Ruben boys that PNC Park is arguably the prettiest ballpark in the country, and while I have only been to three in my adult life (I went to a Dodger game once as a kid but was so bored I blocked it out), I can see that it really is a beautiful park. I was treated to a rain delay, which is so rare in San Diego that it felt like a fitting event to welcome me to town, so to round out this authentic Pittsburgh experience Matt and I purchased a Primanti Brothers capicola sandwich and shared it, standing over a trash can, huddled under a covered walkway with the rest of the crowd. The crowd was small, but the size was welcome given that there's only so many places to get out of the rain. We sipped beers and enjoyed the drizzle. The Pirates defeated the Reds that night, but since it got a late start and we hadn't actually had a proper dinner, we didn't stay for the whole game. Mike took us to the nearby Six Penn, where we had drinks in the bar and shared a few appetizers. Mike dropped us off at their mom's place, where we were staying.

Something you don't see much in San Diego.

Wednesday called for sleeping in because we were, after all, on vacation. We took a lengthy walk via Beechwood from our hosts' home near Point Breeze to Matt's old stomping ground in Squirrel Hill. We ducked into the library, bought a smiley cookie from Eat N' Park, and I saw a fraction of Frick Park, where Matt's mom Sue and her husband Peter picked us up for lunch. We ordered sandwiches at Kubideh Kitchen, the first and current incarnation of the Conflict Kitchen, an art project/take-out restaurant that features one menu item at a time inspired by the cuisine of a country the US is in some way in conflict with. The item/country in question changes every four months. We had a completely delicioius Iranian wrap style sandwich served in an informative wrapper, but by next month the kitchen will be serving an item from Afganistan. The intention is provoke thought, but they also happen to serve an extremely tasty sandwich of beef, basil, mint and onion wrapped in flat-bread. It may have been the best thing we ate this trip.

After lunch Matt borrowed the car, and we went to the somewhat newly reincarnated Penn Brewing. The trouble with travel, is that so much of what I want to do in any given city involves consumption. I do not have a huge appetite, but by sharing a single Kubideh sandwich Matt and I managed to save room for a shared bowl of saurkraut soup and a potato pancake each. We washed them down with a couple of beers and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place, which was nice although quiet since it was a weekday afternoon.

We then went for a walk around Carnegie Mellon University, and checked out the Carnegie Library before a thunderstorm interrupted what would have been a longer walk. We stopped by East End Brewing for some free(!) tasters and to fill Matt's mom's growler for our then upcoming weekend trip to the country. The East End employee was very friendly, their beers were good, and thanks to their Illustration Ale, we learned about the Toonseum, which I'll describe in a few paragraphs.

Because Diners, Drive-ins and Dives has featured a number of Pittsburgh establishments, we would have been remiss not to check one out. For dinner Wednesday we ate at Big Jim's in the Run. It was fun, about what I expected: large portions of decent food served by a waitress that calls you "hun."

Meatball sandwich at Big Jim's.

Thursday was our big day. We walked all around downtown, beginning with a farmer's market with free food sponsored by Toyota. Then we got some hot dogs from Franktuary (a hot dog joint in the basement of a church) and ate them at the August Wilson Center, where they were having a line dancing event on the patio. We also checked out the exhibit there, and saw some very nice photos by Charles "Teenie" Harris. Across from the Wilson Center is the Toonseum, a modest but totally awesome museum/gallery focused on cartoons of every variety, from animation and comic strips to comic books and graphic novels. Their current exhibit featured dogs, including Snoopy, Scooby, and many others.

The August Wilson Center

Cool statues at the building next to the Toonseum.

Then we crossed one of the many bridges to the North Side, where we climbed into the lap of the Mr. Rogers statue (Fred Rogers was born in Latrobe, essentially Pittsburgh, and when my boyfriend was a kid they attended the same church!), and then had beers at Rivertowne, where they had a handful of San Diego beers on tap, and oddly enough, none of them were Stone. Then we walked back to town and just meandered about until we eventually met up with the family for dinner at Yo Rita on the South Side. It was strange eating tacos in Pittsburgh, and they weren't "authentic" tacos, but they were seriously tasty. The folks the run the place are creative and clearly consider the season in developing their menu. I had the watermelon habenero gazpacho and a summer squash taco, with a blood orange margarita to drink. Even though I was pretty full, we ended up borrowing the car again to make sure I got my ice cream fix from Dave & Andy's. Out of the ice cream in options in Pittsburgh, I picked Dave & Andy's because it seems to be an institution. The ice cream was good, not great, but it was ice cream so of course I liked it.

I will totally be your neighbor.

And that's it for Pittsburgh. Friday, we had a lazy morning before departing on the next leg of our journey: Confluence, PA.

Pennsylvania Part 1: The Poconos

My boyfriend Matt spent his childhood and adolescence in Pittsburgh, and his entire immediate family still lives in the state of Pennsylvania. My only visit to Pittsburgh was an ill-fated Christmas trip in 2008, when a series of flight delays reduced my stay to 36 hours in a cold, cold, city. I've been looking forward to making another visit, and this summer I had my opportunity. I didn't just see Pittsburgh, I saw other parts of the Keystone State, which I will chronicle in three parts. Here is the first!

On Saturday July 31st, Matt and I flew via Dallas to Pittsburgh, arriving late that night. We picked up our rental car and headed to Matt's mom's in Squirrel Hill, where she and her husband were kind enough to put us up for the night and feed us breakfast before our early start Sunday morning.

We drove across much of the state to arrive in Buck Hill Falls, PA in time for a late lunch with Matt's dad and his wife at their home, which is also where we stayed. After lunch, we headed out for a brief hike to the falls that give the community its name.

Buck Hill Falls is a private resort community and while it's pretty much in the middle of nowhere it's also pretty lively. Our hosts live right on the golf course and just a short distance from the pool and tennis courts. The hike to falls was not a long one, and yet, in spite of all these hallmarks of civilization being so close at hand, at the falls I felt completely enveloped in nature. It's really nice that they live so close to such a great and isolated view.

We followed our hike with a dip in the pool, then cleaned ourselves up for dinner. Before dinner, we stopped by the Buck Hill Falls Library for the opening of an art show featuring a local artist. The city it is not, but I admire their ambition. Then we headed to Forks, a restaurant not to be confused with the town in Washington, where we had a very nice dinner, followed by dessert at our accommodations.

The next morning I was treated to a rare experience for a Southern Californian, berry picking. It's blueberry season and while a sign at Paupack Blueberry Farm suggested their next batch would be ready around August 9th, there were plenty of blueberries that were ripe for the picking. Matt, his dad, and I spent about 40 minutes gentling tugging the little blue beauts into our palms and then rewarded ourselves with some delicious blueberry ice cream.

The literal fruits of our labor.

They had baby goats!

To be honest, I don't even really like blueberries that much, but I really enjoyed picking them and the ice cream, and the pie that Mary-Kate (Matt's dad's wife) made later, were really tasty.

We followed our picking with a trip to just about the only tourist attractions (other than nature) in the area. Neighboring Buck Hill Falls is Mountainhome, home to Callie's Pretzel Factory and Callie's Candy Kitchen. They're novel, that's for sure, and they put out some decent pretzels and candy. At the former Matt and I shared a soft pretzel and I invested in some bagged hard pretzels (one bag jalapeño, one bag garlic). At the latter, nostalgia prompted me to purchase a bag of mint buttons, which my grandmother kept in a crystal candy dish when I was a child.

Pretzel sticks in progress.

After the candy shop, we met up with Mary-Kate for lunch at a local deli. I was pretty impressed with my grilled mozzarella and roasted red pepper sandwich. We followed lunch with another hike and a dip in the pool. Then we traveled to Tannersville for beers and a dinner's worth of appetizers at Barley Creek Brewing.

This took quite a bit of bravery for me.

All in all, we spent a really great couple of days in the Poconos and enjoyed our quality time with our hosts. But if I was going to see Steel City, we had to hit the road. After a breakfast of blueberry pie (don't judge me!) we began our five-ish hour journey back to Pittsburgh. Our time there will be the subject of my next entry!

I'm in Pennsylvania - A Preview

I've been in Pennsylvania since late Saturday night, and I won't be home until late Monday night. I expect I'll post about my adventures in the Keystone State, but for now, here's a funny song about Pennsylvania, set to the tune of Katy Perry's "California Gurls."

Geekery

I'd like to begin with an apology to any of my Save Saturday Service correspondents. Summer time is busy time and I have written maybe two letters in the past two months. But I haven't forgotten about you, I swear! I'll be making a better effort to write more letters just as soon as I get back from my next trip.

I said I've been busy, and this past weekend was no exception. I spent the day Saturday at Comic-Con, and had a great time. I don't know if it shows much here, but there is a geek inside of me. I've been known to complain that the casting of superhero movies isn't true enough to the character (and also argue that the characters can and should evolve), contemplate the best episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and weigh in on the debate between the hotter Harrison Ford role: Han Solo or Indiana Jones. When a friend started a graphic novel book club, I was all over that. There are webcomics I read reliably. So when a friend offered the complimentary passes she earned for volunteering, I was pretty psyched to go!

I used to buy tickets, but it's not important enough to me to buy the tickets a year in advance, which you pretty much have to do now. I bought tickets last year, because I wanted my boyfriend to see what it was like since he'd never been. Even though it's not really his scene, it's easy to find this he's interested in because it has grown so much and encompasses so many things. Further, there is no better place on earth better for people watching. I haven't traveled much but I still feel confident in that statement.

For the uninitiated, there are two basic aspects to the convention. One is the exhibit hall, with booths of all kinds, including those of individual artists, comic book vendors, DC and Marvel, LEGO, various movie studios, book publishers . . . I could keep going but you get the idea. The other is "programming," which is a blanket term for panel discussions, movie & television sneak peeks, gaming, film festivals, and probably some other stuff I can't think of right now. I try to avoid the movie and TV stuff, which tend to be just absolute madness in terms of crowds (although I wouldn't say episodes like this are common), but I do like to attend the panels, which vary greatly in their topics.

But the Comic-Con experience goes beyond that. People dress up as their favorite super heroes, graphic novel protagonists, anime characters, and, of course, movie roles (to varying degrees of success). Downtown becomes incredibly lively as the whole city gears up for it. This year, the transit service changed the Trolley signs across from the convention center to Klingon. A group organized a zombie walk, which was fun to observe. Comic-Con is really a neat thing.

Highlights for me this year included: finally caving and buying a Jayne hat, getting a 3-D photo taken, purchasing a sketch from Ramona Fradon, seeing the Family Guy*, Cleveland Show*, Futurama, and Simpsons panels (especially the clips/cast readings of the Comic-Con inspired episodes), and meeting up with friends for drinks and the conclusion of the Zombie Walk. My description cannot do it justice, so without further ado, I'll give you a few photos. I didn't take many, and none show how crazy crowded it is, but here's a bit of my Comic-Con 2010 experience.

Klingon signage

An R2-D2 just rolling around.

At the convention center.

I'm ready!

An exhibitor display of "You-Know-Who"

My disappointment that this is not the Big Three

is mitigated by my appreciation for this Flash costume.

Futurama panel with Matt Groening.

The panelists are seen on the screen

and in the far background.

The hero of Canton . . .

Emma Frost (in her diamond form) with

a character I don't know and Ms. Marvel

Mystique

Batmobile on the street.

At Quality Social, preparing for the imminent

arrival of the zombies.

The Zombie Walk wraps up at Quality Social.

Even zombies get thirsty!

*Not actually a fan of the shows, but not opposed and attending the panel guaranteed us seats for the Groening panels.

Dumplings and Other Kitchen Adventures

Lately Matt and I have been experimenting with filled pasta. A few weeks ago we made pierogi and this week we tried our hand at ravioli. For the pierogi, I did a little research and found this really helpful site. We didn't follow the recipe, but it had some good tips. Some pierogi we filled with potatoes and cheese, some with sauerkraut, and we even got really experimental and added jalapeños to a few (hey, we do live in San Diego).

After making the pierogi, I decided it would be fun to get a ravioli press to make more dumplings. For the ravioli, we followed a recipe from The Complete Book of Pasta and Noodles, which I gave him for Christmas with his pasta machine. We haven't actually cooked the ravioli yet, we are freezing them to cook sometime this week. The filling is meat and ricotta with basil, and we plan to serve the ravioli in a basic tomato sauce.

In addition to having fun with dumplings, a few weeks back I made a strawberry rhubarb crumble using an easy recipe from The English Kitchen that delivered great results! Also, Matt bought some darling flower-shaped egg molds, so he whipped up a cheery breakfast this morning.

On Independence Day

I would not call myself a patriotic person. I don't even understand the phrase, "Proud to be an American." For me, pride is for accomplishments. Being an American takes no special effort on my part. I was just lucky enough to be born here, where I have a good quality of life and plenty of opportunity to excel. If I had to earn my citizenship, I would likely feel proud to call myself an American, but as it is, I just consider myself fortunate.

That said, I don't think patriotism is all bad. Patriotism doesn't have to be nationalism. It can be as simple as love for one's country. While I don't agree with, and am even disgusted by, the Fox News story and ensuing reader comments regarding Wonder Woman's recent costume change and what Fox News thinks it represents, I know that expressions of patriotism needn't be so idiotic. So I was surprised to realize how many people oppose the celebration of the Fourth of July. A friend posted the following quote of facebook, and it definitely got me thinking (as was his goal):

"What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are, to Him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour." -Frederick Douglas (full text here)

 It's a powerful statement, and the choice of this passage by my friend suggests that while much has changed since Douglas so skillfully strung these words together, we still have much cause for disgrace. While our history is marred with much oppression and bloodshed (including the obliteration of Native Americans, slavery, and Japanese internment camps, etc.) and our present is similarly blemished by much (including, but not limited to, our discrimination against immigrants and those with non-normative sexualities), that doesn't mean that we can't feel love for our country. Another friend shared a very different quotation on facebook. The words are William Faulkner's (who incidentally, was probably racist), and are taken from an essay on Mississippi. I do not know the source work, so I have quoted it exactly as my friend did, and make no claims regarding the accuracy of the text:

"Home again, his native land; he was born of it and his bones will sleep in it; loving it even while hating some of it. . . But most of all he hated the intolerance and injustice. . . But he loves it, it is his, remembering. . .Loving all of it even while he had to hate some of it because he knows now that you don't love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults."

This is true about love in general, but I really appreciated the sentiment as it relates to one's country. Seeing the two quotations side prompted me to think about this holiday more than I generally do, so I wanted to share the experience with others. Now that I've typed this, I'm going to go make some potato salad to share with good friends at a barbecue, where the subject of our nation is unlikely to come up at all.