From The Deep End: Roadtrip favorites

 

Bottom of Form

Food, glorious food! I think there is definitely some kind of connection between people who love food and love to eat, but are disasters in the kitchen. It can’t just be me, right? I can prepare some food, which means I can open the can of soup and heat it in a saucepan. I can grill a burger, I can make a basic salad, and I can roast a chicken, if it doesn’t require herbs, brining, or trussing the bits up with a French braid of twine and toothpicks.

So, while I am no gourmet, I love to eat, and I’m especially fond of any combination of pizza, French fries, and seafood. In fact, I would elbow an elderly nun out of the way if someone had a clam pizza and a side of fries. I also love to travel, so many of my favorite meals or treats have been on the road. This weekend got me thinking about how I can combine the things I love—travel, good food, and maybe visiting some friends too.

They’re not mentioned above in my top three because before this weekend, I thought hot dogs were good, but not worth assaulting an elderly nun. A short road trip to Rhode Island, however, and I discovered not just a good hot dog, but a”hot weiner.” I know, I know, we’re all giggling like a 10-year-old boy who just told a fart joke. But you know what? They’re real, and they are spectacular.

In Rhode Island, you can get a hot weiner at a place called “The New York System.” These beauties are a creation unlike anything else. They’re a combo of beef, pork, and veal, with top-secret spices, mustard, and onions. They are mostly served with “coffee milk,” another Rhode Island treat, which is coffee-flavored milk that even Governor Healey would give up her Dunks iced regular for. Fortunately, I have two good friends who live in Rhode Island, so I will get to have this blissful combination again.

If I had to choose a favorite pizza, it would have to be in New York City, a place I wish I could get to more often. It’s Joe’s Pizza in Times Square. There is a near-constant line at this place, where you can get a slice or a whole pie fresh out of the oven. It’s usually a minimum 30-minute wait, but I’d wait twice that. Maybe it’s the New York City water that makes the dough so crispy good, and the residue of a thousand pies that makes the cheese so melty? It would simply not be possible to have pizza this good anywhere else, and trust me, I’ve had pizza in hundreds of places.

In Vermont, where I often go to visit friends, there is Al’s French Frys. A tiny spot just outside downtown Burlington that has fresh-cut potatoes fried to order and soft-serve “creamies” that are not low-fat yogurt but actual soft ice cream that tastes like something that came out of a cloud of jimmies and milk. On a sultry July night, the flashing neon-esque arrow signals that Al’s is open, and the parking lot is full of friends old and new, crispy fries, and melting cones. I never miss a stop at Al’s when I’m on the road to Vermont.

While it’s nice to hit the road for friendship and food, when it comes to seafood, I have to give it to another red-shoed girl, Dorothy, who taught us all there’s no place like home. Right here is where the Barnacle serves up twin lobsters so fresh they were mouthing off at the cook while hopping into the pot. The fish and chips would make King Charles weep, and the view can’t be beat. When you see a pick-up truck offloading coolers at the kitchen door, you know you’re dining local, with a catch that is mere hours old.

Finding a new spot to road trip to for a delicious treat made me realize that every special treat that I like, I heard about from a friend. So thank you, Jake, for telling me about the Rhode Island dogs, thank you, Molly, for pointing out Joe’s Pizza, and thank you, Mary, for Al’s French Fries and creamies. Anytime you’re up in my part of the food scene, the fish and chips are on me.