Tasting Norwegian Christmas in Decorah
Decorah’s holiday pleasures are best approached at night. The Westside Bridge is lit up like an amusement park ride, a prelude to the dazzling lights that outline the downtown buildings. The courthouse is adorned with lighted wreaths and crowds keep the outdoor skating rink busy until 10 p.m.
Small towns are not supposed to bustle, but Decorah is a non conformist. In this part of Winneshiek County, geography is oddly un-Iowan. Mountains and valleys, rivers and rocks have discouraged the large scale clearing and planting that characterizes the state. It also attracted a spirit of free thinking.
Elsewhere in Iowa, one would be stunned to see satyrs running through banks of snow, but here, goat-people are an old holiday tradition. Such julebukker are ancient Norwegian spirits, fond of wreaking havoc at Christmas time, unless appeased with food and alcohol. So some folks masquerade, as goats and other things, and barge in on neighbors.
Norwegian immigrants brought julebukking to Decorah. The custom remained quite popular until the mid 20th century, when people became less trusting. Julebukking is one of several Christmas traditions revived by the the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, the oldest and largest ethnic museum in the United States. Their “Norwegian Christmas” (Dec. 4-5, 2004) brings julebukker and nisser (elves) together with fiddlers, choirs, artisans and artists. Workshops in klostersom (satin stitching), hedebosom (lace ornaments), tapestry weaving, rosemailing (ceramic painting) and kolrosing (wood carving) mix with ones where children make nisse costumes. Vesterheim curator Tova Brandt explained the museum’s reason for being.
“In Norway, during the first half of the 19th century, the potato, the small pox vaccination and peace all conspired in a population explosion. Soon there were too many people for what the land could produce and when the potato famine hit Norway, it caused havoc. Emigration was a way out.
“As one of the late immigrant groups to America, at least by 19th century standards, Norwegians could sense how ethnic identity was swallowed up in the melting pot of America. So they determined to preserve their identity,” she said.
Darlene Fossum-Martin of Luther College explained how Norwegian foods became a focus of that resolve.
“For pioneers, recipes were a way to hold onto a culture and to connect to what they had been. Sights, aromas and tastes connect us to memories. I was fortunate to grow up in a family where all the recipes used were the ones that great grandparents used. Born on a farm, I remember making rendered lard. I remember watching great grandma baking, most of my knowledge of Norwegian foods comes from my family, though I lived in Norway for five years,” she said.
In her book “Keeping Christmas,” Kathleen Stokker explains that Norwegian Christmas traditions survived social pressures for 2000 years, on both sides of the Atlantic. Many local customs evolved from the Viking festival of jol, but the Christian church discouraged these, or tried to convert them, by ordering drinking toasts to the Virgin Mary for instance. The Midnight Mass of the Dead was outlawed, but ghost stories replaced it, as in Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” When Advent fasting came to Norway in 480 AD, lutefisk was Christianized, as acceptable fasting food.
At the annual “Taste of Norway,” in the Vesterheim’s Bethania Lutheran Church, a kitchen full of venerable Norwegian-American cooks educated us on traditions of food and humor.
The Gift of Cod
Some visitors wore sweatshirts that caught our eye:
“Lutefisk : The gift of Cod that passeth all understanding.”
The lady chefs explained that lutefisk is such “an acquired taste” that most families don’t prepare it anymore. It has gone underground, to church basements, where it “represents the immigrant experience - courage, hardship and small rewards.”
Yet, more lutefisk is exported to America, from Norway’s Lofoten Islands, than is consumed in all Scandinavia. Stokker wrote that Norwegians consider it historical peasant food, but Norwegian-Americans need it to connect to that history.
It’s prepared by soaking dried cod in lye, which breaks amino acids down into a jelly of protein. Humor is central to the ritual, the ladies insist. “Lutefisk reminds us that the crucifixion is the central tenet of our religion,” laughed one of them, quickly adding, “Don‘t quote me.”
The Christmas Pig
Pioneers in Iowa butchered animals in early winter, for salting and drying. Thus, Christmas was often the only time to enjoy fresh meat, a festive occasion for sharing. We were told that women were in charge of collecting blood, for pudding and sausage, and of making headcheese.
A Christmas pig was fattened until the last waxing moon before Christmas, in accord with an ancient Norwegian folk belief. Blodpolse (blood pudding) was made immediately. Modern conveniences have simplified the ritual. Doris Barnaal goes to the Isen Locker for pig blood pudding, which doesn‘t clot as fast as cow‘s blood. Leona Rosendahl makes blodpolse from beef blood that she buys at the Waukon Grocery. Agnes Forde admitted “I make it, but I never taste the stuff.”
Headcheese is made by alternating layers of meat and fat, picked off the skull, and cured in its own brine. The ladies all remember it, but few miss it.
“Headcheese was how our family made sure we used every part of the animal, ” explained Fossum-Martin.
The Sweet Seven
According to Stokker, the baking of sju slags (7 cookies) is an old Norse custom. In America the chosen cookies became fattigmann, sandbakkels, krumkakker, Berlinerkranser, goro, strull and rosetter. All include flour, sugar, butter, eggs, cardamon and almonds. Distinction is in their different forms.
Goro is the oldest, mentioned in classic Norse poetry as a symbol of wealth. Doris Barnaal says the thick rectangles are only good in theory. “They don’t work out in reality, there is too much butter in them for the high temperature they takes. Anyone who makes them has to open windows to let out the smoke,” she observed.
Krumkakker are thin rounds curled into a cone. The hardware to make them came to America in dowries, and was handed down as heirlooms. “There are three generations of krumkakke irons: long handled; stove top and now we have electric ones,” Barnaal explained.
Strull are made the same way, but twisted into cylinders. Rosettes require special wheel-shaped irons, with long handles. Berlinerkranser blend hard boiled and raw egg yolks in the different recipes. Sandbakkels are named for their crushed almond texture. Fattigmannbakkels were the ultimate status symbol on the prairie, because of the lavish use of egg yolks, sugar and cream.
Fossum-Martin remembered another cookie as the lutefisk of desserts, because of their odd aroma. “I will never forget great grandma’s harts’ horn cookies, which were made with baking ammonia, from harts’ horn salt, from the antlers of deer,” she said.
The Pudding Queen
All the cooks agreed, Agnes Forde is “the queen of rommegrot.” She earned the title when King Olav V visited Decorah in 1987 and Agnes made her special version of Norway’s national dish.
“We were told not to try to make any kind of contact with the king, unless he initiated it. After he ate my rommegrot, he came and extended his hand to me,” she recalled.
She had been anxious, knowing that in Norway the pudding is made with fresh, unprocessed sour cream. Agnes used sweet cream as is customary in Iowa.
“I couldn’t eat it in Norway, it didn’t taste right at all,” recalled Carrie Solberg, going on to say that her grandmother used a toro, cut from the very top of a pine tree, to roll the cream over the lowest heat, lest the fat burn or scorch, a seven hour process in her day.
“My grandma took her kettle and skimmed the cream with a toddle stick, making a cross on the bottom. So whenever we children saw grandma walking to the barn with her kettle we got excited; we knew we were going to get rommegrot for dinner,” she recalled.
The Anti-Lutefisk
Lefse (potato flatbread) is as popular as lutefisk is unpopular. The ladies agreed it should be made with a grooved rolling pin. Marj Hove uses her grandmothers’ pin to make the ultimate lefse, from homegrown garden potatoes. The cooks disagreed about whether to boil, or mash, them before ricing, and whether butter, margarine, or a 70-30 mix is best. They argued whether the butter should be melted.
Barnaal filled us in on some lefse history that lives in infamy.
“The museum had a lefse contest, with five judges, including a Better Homes and Garden editor, and some Norwegian food purists. It turned out that the winner used instant lefse mix. That caused a lot of long faces.”
If It Isn’t White, We Cream It
Klubb, also called kumla, are dumplings made with flour boiled in beef stock. Stokker called them a constant food from all regions of Norway, which forged a common bond among Norwegian immigrants. Such is not the case in 21st century Iowa. The “Taste of Norway” chefs said that they vary wildly. Sometimes bacon or salt pork is stuck in the center; other times minced potatoes are the main ingredient. Rosendahl said the latter are typical in Story City. Solberg claimed they are best with side pork and museum literature said that the dish is popular with boiled rutabagas, ham, pork sausage, syrup and melted tallow.
Carrie Solberg made them sound like lutefisk’s soul mate: “They look like baseballs left outdoors all winter. You have to slice them to serve them.”
They chefs agreed they should be made with blood, suet, water and flour. Rosendahl admitted, “I make them with potatoes instead of suet, but you can eat it with cream or butter.”
Karen Guttebo laughed, “Everything we Norwegians eat is white, and if it isn’t white, we cream it.”
Visiting Decorah
The magnificently restored Hotel Winneshiek’s and its Opera House and Conference Center are among Iowa’s best kept secrets. At Christmas, it dresses in Victorian splendor. Last year, Nutcracker characters adorned trees and mantles. A grand tree centered the lobby, surrounded by a sumptuous buffet. The Opera House was draped with a 150 foot garland, its stage book-ended by dazzling trees decorated in 19th century style. On Christmas Eve, the hotel placed a Nutcracker ornament on each guest’s bed. www.hotelwinn.com ; 800-998-4864.
Decorah is one of the best restaurant towns in Iowa. Many, such as the Hotel Winneshiek’s Victorian Rose, the Dayton House, La Rana and the Café Deluxe, use fresh raised meats, poultry and vegetables, from the area’s many organic and organic method farmers.
Agnes Forde’s Rommegrot makes 10 servings
1 quart milk
1 cup half & half
1 cup butter (or margarine)
¾ cup flour
½ cup sugar
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
Sugar and cinnamon
Heat milk and half & half, stirring often to prevent scorching. In a large heavy pan, melt butter and add flour; cook about 5 minutes, stirring constantly with wire whisk. Pour in milk and half & half and cook, stirring frequently until mixture bubbles and thickens. Stir in sugar. Pour in bowls
and pour melted butter on top. Sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon.
Rommegrot make be kept warm and served from a crock pot on low. It may be refrigerated and reheated in microwave.
This story was originally published in The Iowan
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Call Her “Mom”
Betty and Gene Burgett Camp with a Family of Forty
“It looks like the Oklahoma Land Rush, declares Kathie Swift, the Iowa State Fair marketing director. “They start lining up days early, getting in position for when the gates finally open.”
Swift isn’t talking about teenagers waiting in line for tickets to see Britney Spears. For the most part, she’s talking about their grandparents.
Every year, several days before the state fair opens for camping, scores of
vans, RV’s, trailers and motor homes park queue outside the campground gates. Unlike the Oklahomans of 1889, these folks gain no advantage by arriving early. All the choice camp sites have been reserved, for months, years, even decades. These Iowa Sooners have already staked their claims. “We come early because there is no where else we would rather be,” explains Betty Burgett of Lucas County.
Betty and husband Gene have been camping for the length of every State Fair for 53 years. All five of their married children also plan their vacations around the fair. “There are 36 in my immediate family here and 4 extras, like Sheila Sivil whose son is married to my daughter. So, I guess there are 40 of us, a small army.” Betty admitted.
Altogether last summer the Burgett campsite included: ten trailers; 15 cell phones; three balanced tables; a food tent that seated 50; a deep freezer; three refrigerators; a double sink with a hot water heater; two ovens; a four-burner gas stove; and a flat top grill big enough to fry eight pounds of bacon at a time.
Setting up camp for this army, on a steep hill, requires military precision. First a 24 foot goose neck trailer is unloaded with camping basics: mess tent, refrigerators, picnic tables, hot water heaters, freezers. Then the trailers must be set up, in precise order, and leveled on the hill. “It’s a giant jig saw puzzle, there is only one possible order to fit everything, so arrivals must be coordinated,” explained Betty.
All of her children and grandchildren camp, together, for the duration of the Fair,
and then some. Almost nothing interferes with this family outing. Betty proudly related how one daughter-in-law came last year despite serious back surgery. Betty’s mother came every year until she died at age 86, and her father still camped here at age 97. In 1972, daughter Connie left her camper and went to a Des Moines hospital. Granddaughter Cami was born on a Wednesday that year and by Friday Cami and Connie were back camping.
The Burgett camp shelters four sets of four generations, descending from Betty and Gene: five children; five spouses; 13 grand children, plus a place is always set for Joey Dean Smith who was stilllborn in 1983; and seven great grandchildren. Burgett family ritual dictates that when a child marries, they get their own trailer for the Fair.
Weddings and the fair also bring the family together for a butchering ritual. Daughter Bonnie and her husband Bruce Smith own a walk-in cooler big enough to hold four sides of beef, and a complete butchering facility. Thirty family members have specific jobs preparing food for the campground. The Burgetts make brats and sausage, cut sides of beef and pork, cure hams and bacon. In short, they prepare the things that other campers simply buy at the supermarket. It takes a lot of food to feed 40 plus people for 2 weeks. “We live off the land, everything we eat here, except dairy products, we grew or raised,” declared Betty.
For last year’s fair, the Burgetts butchered five hogs and a cow, cured their own hams and rolled our own beef roasts. Their menus defined homegrown, roots cooking at its best. A typical dinner featured roast beef, creamed peas, scalloped cabbage, cucumber salad, baked beans, fresh corn on the cob, green beans, three kinds of home made breads, melons, peaches, plus sliced tomatoes, three home made pies, and three other desserts.
As if preparing three wholesome meals a day for 40 people isn’t enough work, the Burgett’s invite sundry others to the spread. “At 5 o’clock on Sundays, we feed the Fair workers, we’re having fried chicken this week, so there will be a big turnout,” she confided last year.
Betty is a campground legend. As we drove around the temporary city of 4000, numerous employees waved and called her “Mom.” She involves people in many ways, “Once I sold out a newspaper carriers’ papers, just to prove to him that it was worth his while, coming up to the campground. After that, he came back every day, for breakfast,” she laughed.
As soon as Betty and Gene get up, at 5 a.m., they start inviting people in for coffee. “If anyone calls me Mom, or Grandma, I will feed them,” she admits. Soon after coffee, the breakfasts begin in earnest with home cured bacon, home made sausage, farm fresh eggs, biscuits, pancakes and fried breads.
Betty proselytizes campers with religious fervor. Sheila Sivil says she recruited half of Lucas County. Betty admits to less, “I have instigated over 100 families to come camp at the fair.”
The Burgett army first bivouacked out of necessity. Half a century ago, fairground camping was free and that fit the budget for a young farm couple with 4 young children. “No matter how poor we were, since then we always found money for the fair.”
Betty believes the fair experience has kept the family unusually close. All 36 children and grandchildren still live within 20 minutes of each other, and all but son Don live within five miles. “Connie tried to move away once, to Minnesota, but that only lasted one year,” Betty qualified.
The family gets involved in the Fair. Three generations have shown sheep, hogs and horses. Betty and nine other family members work at the Family Center. Others keep busy doing good deeds. After shuttle service to the campground ends, the Burgett teenagers often push wheelchairs up the hill. Astonishingly, all this family togetherness is friction free. “I have never heard one argument in the 25 plus years I remember being here,” said 31 year old grandson Todd Burgett.
Asked how any family could be so close and yet so easy going, Todd replied, pointing to Betty and Gene, “Easy answer, those two people.”
Todd’s emphasis was a point of respect. yet, there is something mystically anachronistic about this family. The last half century has not been kind to Iowa farmers like the Burgetts. Betty worked at the Chariton Farmers Co-Op for 25 to help make ends meet. Two of the Burgetts’ son own farms, but they both have taken second jobs to support them. Yet, by sheer force of personality, Betty and Gene seem to will that, within the friendly confines of the campground, a kinder, gentler history of America farm life can be rewritten, simply by setting an extra place at the table. In the Burgetts’ camp, food, faith and family overcome all obstacles.
“My parents brought me to the Fair in a horse wagon, from Chariton. In 1948 this campground was all tents. Only one shower house has been here as long as I have. Our kids used to play with Tonka toys in a ditch over there. Now it’s filled in and terraced with campsites. Our shade is gone with the wind, ( of a 1999 storm) so we bring awnings now,” Betty recalled.
Shower houses, electricity and sewers are all innovations during the Burgetts’ run. They credit former Fair CEO Marion Lucas. “He was a camper himself, so he understood,” Betty acknowledged.
The family has changed its own camping style. Todd recalled at least six upgrades in his family’s camper-trailers. The important thing’s have not changed. “In 53 years we have never had anything stolen, never. It’s absolutely safe here,” claimed Betty proudly.
Personal history makes Betty reflective, and appreciative. “How many people are fortunate enough to live in Iowa?,” she asked. “The best thing of all, is to be here early and to watch it all come together and then to stay late for the sad good-byes. I always think, gee, I hope everyone makes it back next year,” she confided.
What else would you expect from the woman everyone calls “Mom?”
Good Food at the Fair
Some Fair’s food concessions bring once-a-year tasting opportunities. For instance, this year, the corn dog will have a dozen competitors in the food-on-a-stick category: dill pickles; pork chops; cheese; Cajun chicken; German sausage; Chinese beef; veggie hot dogs; fried pickles; chocolate cheese cake; hot bologna; honey; and chocolate covered bananas.
Those who prefer their food off the stick can find concessions that are miles away
from the typical junk food of yesteryear. In the Agriculture Building, Salad Bowl will offer personalized wraps with 20 fresh toppings and salad dressings like orange balsamic. Her BLT’s will be made with Roma tomatoes so they don’t get soggy.
Applishus’ four locations will sell fresh cut apple wedges with melted caramel and apple slushes with 100% juice, plus apple pastries and cookies.
The Iowa Lamb Producers will feature leg of lamb sandwiches and other Iowa
lamb products at their concession in front of the Sheep Barn.
Turkey Time, on the Triangle, will have fresh strawberry shortcake and turkey.
Camping
If you want to camp at the Fair you must: 1.) Write a letter of intent by May 1,
requesting a full time spot, for the following year, to POB 57130, Des Moines, IA, 50317-0003. 2.) By May 15 you will receive forms from the Fair, asking about the size of your camper and your personal requirements. Return them soon as possible, assignments will be granted in order of postmark.
Although camp sites for the full fair sell out, short term campers are accommodated.
Rarely is anyone turned away, particularly after the first weekend and if your camper is self contained. Full fair camp sites rent for $175 with electricity and water, $210 with
sewer added. $140 without any utilities.
Betty Burgett’s Cucumber Salad
1 small package lemon Jello
2 tbs. vinegar
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped cucumbers
1 tbs. chopped onion
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup mayonnaise
Add vinegar to Jello and let Jello begin to set, whip till fluffy. Add remaining
ingredients.
Sheila Sivil’s Scalloped Cabbage
1 large head cabbage
1 stick butter
1/2 cup flour
dash salt
Shred the cabbage, bring to boil in water and drain. Add cabbage to 9 x13 pan. Make a
white sauce with melted butter by stirring in flour and salt till pasty, then slowly add milk,
stirring until thick. Spread over cabbage and bake 40 minutes at 350 degrees.
This story was originally published in The Iowan
“It looks like the Oklahoma Land Rush, declares Kathie Swift, the Iowa State Fair marketing director. “They start lining up days early, getting in position for when the gates finally open.”
Swift isn’t talking about teenagers waiting in line for tickets to see Britney Spears. For the most part, she’s talking about their grandparents.
Every year, several days before the state fair opens for camping, scores of
vans, RV’s, trailers and motor homes park queue outside the campground gates. Unlike the Oklahomans of 1889, these folks gain no advantage by arriving early. All the choice camp sites have been reserved, for months, years, even decades. These Iowa Sooners have already staked their claims. “We come early because there is no where else we would rather be,” explains Betty Burgett of Lucas County.
Betty and husband Gene have been camping for the length of every State Fair for 53 years. All five of their married children also plan their vacations around the fair. “There are 36 in my immediate family here and 4 extras, like Sheila Sivil whose son is married to my daughter. So, I guess there are 40 of us, a small army.” Betty admitted.
Altogether last summer the Burgett campsite included: ten trailers; 15 cell phones; three balanced tables; a food tent that seated 50; a deep freezer; three refrigerators; a double sink with a hot water heater; two ovens; a four-burner gas stove; and a flat top grill big enough to fry eight pounds of bacon at a time.
Setting up camp for this army, on a steep hill, requires military precision. First a 24 foot goose neck trailer is unloaded with camping basics: mess tent, refrigerators, picnic tables, hot water heaters, freezers. Then the trailers must be set up, in precise order, and leveled on the hill. “It’s a giant jig saw puzzle, there is only one possible order to fit everything, so arrivals must be coordinated,” explained Betty.
All of her children and grandchildren camp, together, for the duration of the Fair,
and then some. Almost nothing interferes with this family outing. Betty proudly related how one daughter-in-law came last year despite serious back surgery. Betty’s mother came every year until she died at age 86, and her father still camped here at age 97. In 1972, daughter Connie left her camper and went to a Des Moines hospital. Granddaughter Cami was born on a Wednesday that year and by Friday Cami and Connie were back camping.
The Burgett camp shelters four sets of four generations, descending from Betty and Gene: five children; five spouses; 13 grand children, plus a place is always set for Joey Dean Smith who was stilllborn in 1983; and seven great grandchildren. Burgett family ritual dictates that when a child marries, they get their own trailer for the Fair.
Weddings and the fair also bring the family together for a butchering ritual. Daughter Bonnie and her husband Bruce Smith own a walk-in cooler big enough to hold four sides of beef, and a complete butchering facility. Thirty family members have specific jobs preparing food for the campground. The Burgetts make brats and sausage, cut sides of beef and pork, cure hams and bacon. In short, they prepare the things that other campers simply buy at the supermarket. It takes a lot of food to feed 40 plus people for 2 weeks. “We live off the land, everything we eat here, except dairy products, we grew or raised,” declared Betty.
For last year’s fair, the Burgetts butchered five hogs and a cow, cured their own hams and rolled our own beef roasts. Their menus defined homegrown, roots cooking at its best. A typical dinner featured roast beef, creamed peas, scalloped cabbage, cucumber salad, baked beans, fresh corn on the cob, green beans, three kinds of home made breads, melons, peaches, plus sliced tomatoes, three home made pies, and three other desserts.
As if preparing three wholesome meals a day for 40 people isn’t enough work, the Burgett’s invite sundry others to the spread. “At 5 o’clock on Sundays, we feed the Fair workers, we’re having fried chicken this week, so there will be a big turnout,” she confided last year.
Betty is a campground legend. As we drove around the temporary city of 4000, numerous employees waved and called her “Mom.” She involves people in many ways, “Once I sold out a newspaper carriers’ papers, just to prove to him that it was worth his while, coming up to the campground. After that, he came back every day, for breakfast,” she laughed.
As soon as Betty and Gene get up, at 5 a.m., they start inviting people in for coffee. “If anyone calls me Mom, or Grandma, I will feed them,” she admits. Soon after coffee, the breakfasts begin in earnest with home cured bacon, home made sausage, farm fresh eggs, biscuits, pancakes and fried breads.
Betty proselytizes campers with religious fervor. Sheila Sivil says she recruited half of Lucas County. Betty admits to less, “I have instigated over 100 families to come camp at the fair.”
The Burgett army first bivouacked out of necessity. Half a century ago, fairground camping was free and that fit the budget for a young farm couple with 4 young children. “No matter how poor we were, since then we always found money for the fair.”
Betty believes the fair experience has kept the family unusually close. All 36 children and grandchildren still live within 20 minutes of each other, and all but son Don live within five miles. “Connie tried to move away once, to Minnesota, but that only lasted one year,” Betty qualified.
The family gets involved in the Fair. Three generations have shown sheep, hogs and horses. Betty and nine other family members work at the Family Center. Others keep busy doing good deeds. After shuttle service to the campground ends, the Burgett teenagers often push wheelchairs up the hill. Astonishingly, all this family togetherness is friction free. “I have never heard one argument in the 25 plus years I remember being here,” said 31 year old grandson Todd Burgett.
Asked how any family could be so close and yet so easy going, Todd replied, pointing to Betty and Gene, “Easy answer, those two people.”
Todd’s emphasis was a point of respect. yet, there is something mystically anachronistic about this family. The last half century has not been kind to Iowa farmers like the Burgetts. Betty worked at the Chariton Farmers Co-Op for 25 to help make ends meet. Two of the Burgetts’ son own farms, but they both have taken second jobs to support them. Yet, by sheer force of personality, Betty and Gene seem to will that, within the friendly confines of the campground, a kinder, gentler history of America farm life can be rewritten, simply by setting an extra place at the table. In the Burgetts’ camp, food, faith and family overcome all obstacles.
“My parents brought me to the Fair in a horse wagon, from Chariton. In 1948 this campground was all tents. Only one shower house has been here as long as I have. Our kids used to play with Tonka toys in a ditch over there. Now it’s filled in and terraced with campsites. Our shade is gone with the wind, ( of a 1999 storm) so we bring awnings now,” Betty recalled.
Shower houses, electricity and sewers are all innovations during the Burgetts’ run. They credit former Fair CEO Marion Lucas. “He was a camper himself, so he understood,” Betty acknowledged.
The family has changed its own camping style. Todd recalled at least six upgrades in his family’s camper-trailers. The important thing’s have not changed. “In 53 years we have never had anything stolen, never. It’s absolutely safe here,” claimed Betty proudly.
Personal history makes Betty reflective, and appreciative. “How many people are fortunate enough to live in Iowa?,” she asked. “The best thing of all, is to be here early and to watch it all come together and then to stay late for the sad good-byes. I always think, gee, I hope everyone makes it back next year,” she confided.
What else would you expect from the woman everyone calls “Mom?”
Good Food at the Fair
Some Fair’s food concessions bring once-a-year tasting opportunities. For instance, this year, the corn dog will have a dozen competitors in the food-on-a-stick category: dill pickles; pork chops; cheese; Cajun chicken; German sausage; Chinese beef; veggie hot dogs; fried pickles; chocolate cheese cake; hot bologna; honey; and chocolate covered bananas.
Those who prefer their food off the stick can find concessions that are miles away
from the typical junk food of yesteryear. In the Agriculture Building, Salad Bowl will offer personalized wraps with 20 fresh toppings and salad dressings like orange balsamic. Her BLT’s will be made with Roma tomatoes so they don’t get soggy.
Applishus’ four locations will sell fresh cut apple wedges with melted caramel and apple slushes with 100% juice, plus apple pastries and cookies.
The Iowa Lamb Producers will feature leg of lamb sandwiches and other Iowa
lamb products at their concession in front of the Sheep Barn.
Turkey Time, on the Triangle, will have fresh strawberry shortcake and turkey.
Camping
If you want to camp at the Fair you must: 1.) Write a letter of intent by May 1,
requesting a full time spot, for the following year, to POB 57130, Des Moines, IA, 50317-0003. 2.) By May 15 you will receive forms from the Fair, asking about the size of your camper and your personal requirements. Return them soon as possible, assignments will be granted in order of postmark.
Although camp sites for the full fair sell out, short term campers are accommodated.
Rarely is anyone turned away, particularly after the first weekend and if your camper is self contained. Full fair camp sites rent for $175 with electricity and water, $210 with
sewer added. $140 without any utilities.
Betty Burgett’s Cucumber Salad
1 small package lemon Jello
2 tbs. vinegar
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped cucumbers
1 tbs. chopped onion
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup mayonnaise
Add vinegar to Jello and let Jello begin to set, whip till fluffy. Add remaining
ingredients.
Sheila Sivil’s Scalloped Cabbage
1 large head cabbage
1 stick butter
1/2 cup flour
dash salt
Shred the cabbage, bring to boil in water and drain. Add cabbage to 9 x13 pan. Make a
white sauce with melted butter by stirring in flour and salt till pasty, then slowly add milk,
stirring until thick. Spread over cabbage and bake 40 minutes at 350 degrees.
This story was originally published in The Iowan
Buffalo Dreams
Behold, this dreamer cometh. Genesis 37:19
Driving his golf cart into a herd of buffalo, Gary Lenz popped the top on a can of Miller’s Lite, and spoke of dreams.
“When I was little kid, my father farmed near here. We drove by this place one day and I told him that this was my dream farm. He laughed at me, ‘That land isn’t any good for anything, it’s too hilly to clear or to plant,” he told me.
Lenz decided to try to buy the land soon after his father died.
“I wanted it for the lay of the land. I love hills and valleys and springs. I hate flat land. I don’t want to grow crops; I buy crops and hay. I wanted pastures. So I found the owner in Costa Rica, and he said ‘OK,’ just like that. So suddenly, I owned my dream property, but it took me awhile to figure out what to do with it,” Lenz said, recalling another dream.
“To me, buffalo and elk represent the ultimate American romance. This place was all rose bushes then, so I had to clear them out to make pastures and I had to fence them. At first, I bought Texas longhorn and elk. I bought my first buffalo because I thought they’d be neat to have,” he said, adding that when he and future business partner Dan Palmer heard that 100 animals separated “a hobby” from “a business,” they bought enough to be businessmen.
That’s how the Iowa Bison Company was born. Lenz ranges buffalo on several ranches, including one that turns heads along US Highway 52. His Buffalo Ridge ranch rolls over steep hills, between St. Donatus and Dubuque. Just down the bluff from Our Lady of the Mississippi Abbey, it is a surreal dream. On a summer weekend, between 100-150 cars will cruise by with cameras and “I told you so’s” protruding from windows.
Lenz indulges the curiosity of others, inviting school groups to visit and giving each student a T shirt and buffalo lunch. Despite the majesty of bathing elk and stampeding bison, the main attraction is Bogie, Lenz’s five year old, full ton “baby.”
A buffalo mother will disown one calf when she has twins. Dan Palmer, who ranches 582 idyllic acres near Maquoketa, told us that he once bought a goat nanny for such a buffalo.
“That goat led him around and they became inseparable friends. The goat would curl up and sleep on top of him until he got too big. One time a school group saw that curled up goat and asked what it was, so I told them it was my white buffalo. I wish,” Palmer mused, considering that a rare white buffalo can fetch a million dollars at auction.
Bogie was a similar orphan, having been bottle fed to maturity by Lenz and his family. He’s also a Kobe-style buffalo, with a taste for an occasional beer. He can hear a pop top pop from half a mile away and runs to a gate where he can lap it up with his tongue. Now a couple years past slaughtering age, he’s more family than livestock. He used to have the run of the entire ranch until he ate the flowers.
“He’s a big baby, but he’s a mighty strong baby, so don’t mess with him,” Gary reminded us, adding that Bogie’s also a gourmet.
“One school group wanted to feed Bogie apples. Now Bogie loves apples, but he’s strictly organic, from trees in the woods. The kids had supermarket apples, so Bogie spit them out in disgust,” he laughed.
Maneuvering his golf cart between pastures, Lenz explained other gourmet instincts of buffalo. “They only go for short sweet grass, which is where the high protein is. So we have to cut it short and put up a lot of hay after it rains. They eat grain and hay all winter so they can’t wait for the Spring pastures,” he said.
The ranch is divided into 10 acre pastures in which a herd grazes for 2-3 weeks, before it’s rotated. Buffalo are segregated by age, six months apart. Each time Lenz passed between pastures, he reminded us that gates have dire consequences if left open.
“Buffalo won’t go where you want them to go unless they want to go there too. Yet, I have never had a buffalo mess with me, unless someone left a gate open. Once a buffalo leaves the herd, he’s scared to death. You can’t get him back without shooting him. and they can jump like deer. One cleared two fences while we were chasing him. We had to chase him for two hours after someone left a gate open,” he recalled, throwing buckets of culled oats and grouts over the field.
A herd sauntered over and a pecking order was established. Young orange colored calves were last, then older brown calves, the meeker moms, the ornerier cows, and the bulls. Gary keeps ten cows to each bull and though the meat industry recommends the Woods Bison, he is partial to the more romantic looking Plains Bison.
As the herd surrounded us, Roger Miller’s famous admonition seemed wrong. You could roller skate in a buffalo herd.
“You’re safe as long as you don’t cut between a calf and her mother, or between a bull and his cow. They aren’t mean at all if you keep them fed, but you can never domesticate them. They are majestic and wild and yet, amazingly, they put up with you.
“This is why I do this. Look, we’re surrounded by a breed that was 60 million strong (in the 19th century) and a few years ago it had been reduced to less than 1000. This is the biggest rush of all. To think they will be my friends as long as I take care of them,” he said while counting cows.
“If I don’t see a cow for two or three days, I know I’m about to have a baby. That is the only time they ever leave the herd. Cows are incredible, in a drought they will hold a calf that is ready to be born, until there is enough water or grass. I leave them to their own designs, and I get 90% calving rates that way. I tried the industry controlled way once and that got reduced to 70%,” he laughed.
The count revealed a surprise. There were 32 heifers where there should have been 20; someone had left a gate open again, but with minimal consequences. “I hate fences, but they are necessary. I want this to be as natural as possible. We never castrate a bull. That wouldn’t be right. They do that in the industry, but I feel it’s wrong. I want the buffalo to be proud because they are proud creatures. I never cut their horns either, most guys do, so they won’t scar each other, but that isn’t natural. I got into this for the romance, not the bottom line,” he concluded.
When Lenz and Palmer took up buffalo in the 1990’s, it was an expensive hobby. Then the fickle winds of nutritional science created a market for buffalo meat, which is nutrient dense, low in carbohydrates and bad cholesterol, and high in antioxidants, iron and essential fatty acids. That market grew so fast that Iowa Bison can no longer supply their demand and need to buy buffalo from other ranchers.
“It never occurred to me back then that people would ever want to eat bison. Now, there’s money in the product. We sell every part of the buffalo, the hide, the head, intestines, the testicles. Zip’s Tap in Andrew has a Buffalo Testicle Feast each year. We make leather jackets from the summer hides and winter hides go the taxidermists. I fertilize my corn with buffalo manure and that corn grows twice as tall as the corn that gets chemical fertilizers.
“When I first bought buffalo, people looked at me as if I was dumb as a rock. After a few years, the same people were asking what it takes to raise them,” he said, breathing in the pleasures of a last laugh.
Eating Bison Beyond nutritional motivations, bison sales have soared because of its distinctive flavor, if cooked correctly. Jerky and sausage products, of which Iowa Bison has several, are no-brainers for cooks. Raw meat is trickier. The low fat means it should be eaten rare or medium rare. Slow, low temperature cooking is a general rule that yields spectacular results.
At Iowa Buffalo Company in Mediapolis, Craig Murguia says that buffalo meat loaf, ribeye and burgers turned his restaurant into a dinner destination for drivers within a 70 mile radius. He sells all Iowa Bison products in his grocery store too.
Kim Wolff, owner/chef of Dubuque’s Pepper Sprout restaurant, sells 70 pounds worth of 6 ounce buffalo filets in a good week. In a charming 19th century building, Pepper Sprout is an heirloom showcase for this indigenous Iowa meat. Wolff changes her preparation seasonally, using fresh ingredients from a family of local suppliers. She gets wild mushrooms from a Bellevue ‘shroomer, domestic shiitakes and oyster mushrooms from a Dubuque grower. A sister-in-law grows her squash, while an aunt brings her edible flowers, fresh herbs and mixed greens. Onions and snow peas come from her octogenarian grandfather. She also uses 3 organic growers from the Dubuque Farmers Market.
Iowa Bison products are also sold retail at Hy-Vee stores and Haun’s in Dubuque. Restaurants serving Iowa Bison include Kalmes’ in St. Donatus; the Crow Valley Golf Club, Thunder Bay Grills and The Filling Station in Davenport; Circle C in Lamotte; plus Kalmes’ Breaktime and The Yard Arm in Dubuque.
Other Iowa Buffalo Ranches
Iowa Bison Association reports 43 members in 33 counties that market buffalo meat. Two of them present unique experiences.
~Dreesman’s offers trail rides and hunting experiences besides their line of meat. It is sold at The Metro Market in Des Moines, Julie’s in Grinnell, Crossroads in Toledo, Farmer Nick's at I-80 & Hwy 21, Silver Dollar in Chelsea, New Pioneer Coop in Coralville; and directly from the ranch at 3575 L Ave, Tama, IA 52339, 641-484-6725 dreesman@iowatelecom.net.
~Hawkeye Buffalo Ranch, on a 150 year old family spread in northeast Iowa, offers hunting experiences in addition to their products. Contact: Dan McFarland 3034 Pembroke Ave., Fredericksburg, Iowa 50630 563-237-5318
Testimonials
~At their first White House black tie dinner, President Bush & Mrs. Bush served buffalo to Mexican President Vincente Fox & Mrs. Fox.
~Bison hot dogs are served at the Atlanta Braves’ & Milwaukee Brewers’ baseball parks.
~When professional golfer, Chi Chi Rodriguez came to Des Moines on the senior tour he brought buffalo meat with him as part of his post heart attack diet.
~The USS John F. Kennedy serves 500 to 600 pounds of buffalo meat a day.
~Reader’s Digest cited bison meat as one of the "Top 5 Foods Women Need Most," citing its high iron and low fat numbers.
~Muscle & Fitness magazine touted bison meat for “as much B6 and iron as beef, but has a richer flavor and half the fat!"
~Weight Watchers Magazine added bison meat to their "winning point program."
~Farm Bureau’s Farm News wrote "Buffalo meat contains shorter fibers making the meat more tender. Protein analysis of the buffalo meat shows that it has an excellent distribution of amino acids, giving it more complete protein that other red meats."
Buffalo or Bison?
The North American buffalo is not a true buffalo. Its closest relative is the European bison or wisent and the Canadian woods bison, not the Cape buffalo or water buffalo of Africa and Asia. The scientific name for the American buffalo is bison. It belongs to the bovidae family of mammals, as do domestic cattle. American history has used the word buffalo so long that it has romantic connotations that help marketing, although "bison" is the correct name. The words are interchangeable, whether speaking of the animal or the meat it provides.
This story originally appeared in The Iowan
Driving his golf cart into a herd of buffalo, Gary Lenz popped the top on a can of Miller’s Lite, and spoke of dreams.
“When I was little kid, my father farmed near here. We drove by this place one day and I told him that this was my dream farm. He laughed at me, ‘That land isn’t any good for anything, it’s too hilly to clear or to plant,” he told me.
Lenz decided to try to buy the land soon after his father died.
“I wanted it for the lay of the land. I love hills and valleys and springs. I hate flat land. I don’t want to grow crops; I buy crops and hay. I wanted pastures. So I found the owner in Costa Rica, and he said ‘OK,’ just like that. So suddenly, I owned my dream property, but it took me awhile to figure out what to do with it,” Lenz said, recalling another dream.
“To me, buffalo and elk represent the ultimate American romance. This place was all rose bushes then, so I had to clear them out to make pastures and I had to fence them. At first, I bought Texas longhorn and elk. I bought my first buffalo because I thought they’d be neat to have,” he said, adding that when he and future business partner Dan Palmer heard that 100 animals separated “a hobby” from “a business,” they bought enough to be businessmen.
That’s how the Iowa Bison Company was born. Lenz ranges buffalo on several ranches, including one that turns heads along US Highway 52. His Buffalo Ridge ranch rolls over steep hills, between St. Donatus and Dubuque. Just down the bluff from Our Lady of the Mississippi Abbey, it is a surreal dream. On a summer weekend, between 100-150 cars will cruise by with cameras and “I told you so’s” protruding from windows.
Lenz indulges the curiosity of others, inviting school groups to visit and giving each student a T shirt and buffalo lunch. Despite the majesty of bathing elk and stampeding bison, the main attraction is Bogie, Lenz’s five year old, full ton “baby.”
A buffalo mother will disown one calf when she has twins. Dan Palmer, who ranches 582 idyllic acres near Maquoketa, told us that he once bought a goat nanny for such a buffalo.
“That goat led him around and they became inseparable friends. The goat would curl up and sleep on top of him until he got too big. One time a school group saw that curled up goat and asked what it was, so I told them it was my white buffalo. I wish,” Palmer mused, considering that a rare white buffalo can fetch a million dollars at auction.
Bogie was a similar orphan, having been bottle fed to maturity by Lenz and his family. He’s also a Kobe-style buffalo, with a taste for an occasional beer. He can hear a pop top pop from half a mile away and runs to a gate where he can lap it up with his tongue. Now a couple years past slaughtering age, he’s more family than livestock. He used to have the run of the entire ranch until he ate the flowers.
“He’s a big baby, but he’s a mighty strong baby, so don’t mess with him,” Gary reminded us, adding that Bogie’s also a gourmet.
“One school group wanted to feed Bogie apples. Now Bogie loves apples, but he’s strictly organic, from trees in the woods. The kids had supermarket apples, so Bogie spit them out in disgust,” he laughed.
Maneuvering his golf cart between pastures, Lenz explained other gourmet instincts of buffalo. “They only go for short sweet grass, which is where the high protein is. So we have to cut it short and put up a lot of hay after it rains. They eat grain and hay all winter so they can’t wait for the Spring pastures,” he said.
The ranch is divided into 10 acre pastures in which a herd grazes for 2-3 weeks, before it’s rotated. Buffalo are segregated by age, six months apart. Each time Lenz passed between pastures, he reminded us that gates have dire consequences if left open.
“Buffalo won’t go where you want them to go unless they want to go there too. Yet, I have never had a buffalo mess with me, unless someone left a gate open. Once a buffalo leaves the herd, he’s scared to death. You can’t get him back without shooting him. and they can jump like deer. One cleared two fences while we were chasing him. We had to chase him for two hours after someone left a gate open,” he recalled, throwing buckets of culled oats and grouts over the field.
A herd sauntered over and a pecking order was established. Young orange colored calves were last, then older brown calves, the meeker moms, the ornerier cows, and the bulls. Gary keeps ten cows to each bull and though the meat industry recommends the Woods Bison, he is partial to the more romantic looking Plains Bison.
As the herd surrounded us, Roger Miller’s famous admonition seemed wrong. You could roller skate in a buffalo herd.
“You’re safe as long as you don’t cut between a calf and her mother, or between a bull and his cow. They aren’t mean at all if you keep them fed, but you can never domesticate them. They are majestic and wild and yet, amazingly, they put up with you.
“This is why I do this. Look, we’re surrounded by a breed that was 60 million strong (in the 19th century) and a few years ago it had been reduced to less than 1000. This is the biggest rush of all. To think they will be my friends as long as I take care of them,” he said while counting cows.
“If I don’t see a cow for two or three days, I know I’m about to have a baby. That is the only time they ever leave the herd. Cows are incredible, in a drought they will hold a calf that is ready to be born, until there is enough water or grass. I leave them to their own designs, and I get 90% calving rates that way. I tried the industry controlled way once and that got reduced to 70%,” he laughed.
The count revealed a surprise. There were 32 heifers where there should have been 20; someone had left a gate open again, but with minimal consequences. “I hate fences, but they are necessary. I want this to be as natural as possible. We never castrate a bull. That wouldn’t be right. They do that in the industry, but I feel it’s wrong. I want the buffalo to be proud because they are proud creatures. I never cut their horns either, most guys do, so they won’t scar each other, but that isn’t natural. I got into this for the romance, not the bottom line,” he concluded.
When Lenz and Palmer took up buffalo in the 1990’s, it was an expensive hobby. Then the fickle winds of nutritional science created a market for buffalo meat, which is nutrient dense, low in carbohydrates and bad cholesterol, and high in antioxidants, iron and essential fatty acids. That market grew so fast that Iowa Bison can no longer supply their demand and need to buy buffalo from other ranchers.
“It never occurred to me back then that people would ever want to eat bison. Now, there’s money in the product. We sell every part of the buffalo, the hide, the head, intestines, the testicles. Zip’s Tap in Andrew has a Buffalo Testicle Feast each year. We make leather jackets from the summer hides and winter hides go the taxidermists. I fertilize my corn with buffalo manure and that corn grows twice as tall as the corn that gets chemical fertilizers.
“When I first bought buffalo, people looked at me as if I was dumb as a rock. After a few years, the same people were asking what it takes to raise them,” he said, breathing in the pleasures of a last laugh.
Eating Bison Beyond nutritional motivations, bison sales have soared because of its distinctive flavor, if cooked correctly. Jerky and sausage products, of which Iowa Bison has several, are no-brainers for cooks. Raw meat is trickier. The low fat means it should be eaten rare or medium rare. Slow, low temperature cooking is a general rule that yields spectacular results.
At Iowa Buffalo Company in Mediapolis, Craig Murguia says that buffalo meat loaf, ribeye and burgers turned his restaurant into a dinner destination for drivers within a 70 mile radius. He sells all Iowa Bison products in his grocery store too.
Kim Wolff, owner/chef of Dubuque’s Pepper Sprout restaurant, sells 70 pounds worth of 6 ounce buffalo filets in a good week. In a charming 19th century building, Pepper Sprout is an heirloom showcase for this indigenous Iowa meat. Wolff changes her preparation seasonally, using fresh ingredients from a family of local suppliers. She gets wild mushrooms from a Bellevue ‘shroomer, domestic shiitakes and oyster mushrooms from a Dubuque grower. A sister-in-law grows her squash, while an aunt brings her edible flowers, fresh herbs and mixed greens. Onions and snow peas come from her octogenarian grandfather. She also uses 3 organic growers from the Dubuque Farmers Market.
Iowa Bison products are also sold retail at Hy-Vee stores and Haun’s in Dubuque. Restaurants serving Iowa Bison include Kalmes’ in St. Donatus; the Crow Valley Golf Club, Thunder Bay Grills and The Filling Station in Davenport; Circle C in Lamotte; plus Kalmes’ Breaktime and The Yard Arm in Dubuque.
Other Iowa Buffalo Ranches
Iowa Bison Association reports 43 members in 33 counties that market buffalo meat. Two of them present unique experiences.
~Dreesman’s offers trail rides and hunting experiences besides their line of meat. It is sold at The Metro Market in Des Moines, Julie’s in Grinnell, Crossroads in Toledo, Farmer Nick's at I-80 & Hwy 21, Silver Dollar in Chelsea, New Pioneer Coop in Coralville; and directly from the ranch at 3575 L Ave, Tama, IA 52339, 641-484-6725 dreesman@iowatelecom.net.
~Hawkeye Buffalo Ranch, on a 150 year old family spread in northeast Iowa, offers hunting experiences in addition to their products. Contact: Dan McFarland 3034 Pembroke Ave., Fredericksburg, Iowa 50630 563-237-5318
Testimonials
~At their first White House black tie dinner, President Bush & Mrs. Bush served buffalo to Mexican President Vincente Fox & Mrs. Fox.
~Bison hot dogs are served at the Atlanta Braves’ & Milwaukee Brewers’ baseball parks.
~When professional golfer, Chi Chi Rodriguez came to Des Moines on the senior tour he brought buffalo meat with him as part of his post heart attack diet.
~The USS John F. Kennedy serves 500 to 600 pounds of buffalo meat a day.
~Reader’s Digest cited bison meat as one of the "Top 5 Foods Women Need Most," citing its high iron and low fat numbers.
~Muscle & Fitness magazine touted bison meat for “as much B6 and iron as beef, but has a richer flavor and half the fat!"
~Weight Watchers Magazine added bison meat to their "winning point program."
~Farm Bureau’s Farm News wrote "Buffalo meat contains shorter fibers making the meat more tender. Protein analysis of the buffalo meat shows that it has an excellent distribution of amino acids, giving it more complete protein that other red meats."
Buffalo or Bison?
The North American buffalo is not a true buffalo. Its closest relative is the European bison or wisent and the Canadian woods bison, not the Cape buffalo or water buffalo of Africa and Asia. The scientific name for the American buffalo is bison. It belongs to the bovidae family of mammals, as do domestic cattle. American history has used the word buffalo so long that it has romantic connotations that help marketing, although "bison" is the correct name. The words are interchangeable, whether speaking of the animal or the meat it provides.
This story originally appeared in The Iowan
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
The Lewis and Clark Trail: A Food Odyssey
When Meriwether Lewis and William Clark brought their Corps of Discovery up the Missouri River in the summer of 1804, the upstream journey between Iowa and Nebraska lasted two, long months. One day, they poled and pulled their keelboat against the current of the meandering river from dawn till dusk, only to discover that they were a short walk from their previous night’s camp. This was some of the slowest going of the entire expedition, in part because there were so many mouths to feed.
That summer, the captains employed 16 extra men, in addition to their full company of 22 soldiers and 2 interpreters, plus Clark’s personal slave and Lewis‘ Newfoundland hound. Hunting, gathering and trading for food took as much effort as exploration. Clark wrote, “It takes 4 deer, or an elk and a deer, or one buffalo to supply us for 24 hours."
“Lewis and Clark Cookbook” author Leslie Mansfield concluded that each man consumed nine pounds of meat per day, when available. Game killed and consumed during the expedition included 1001 deer and 375 elk, which were available everywhere, as well as 227 buffalo, which were only available on the Plains, including Iowa. They also consumed 66 bears, 12 horses, and 190 dogs, but not Lewis’ pet.
An army might march on its stomach, as Napoleon observed, but modern tourists use more refined fuels. Obviously, any personal Lewis & Clark food odyssey needs to steer clear of historic menus, for legal, moral and cardiovascular reasons. Yet, one can hardly go looking for the body and soul of the Lewis and Clark Trail at McDonald’s. So, in the spirit of the 19th century, we decided to begin our trek of the trail at One Stop Meat Shop in Sioux City’s KD Station. Sioux City was the beginning of the expedition’s 10 day return trip through Iowa waters. Going downsteam, even just in spirit, leaves more time to look for good things to eat.
Besides, One Stop is as unique as the historic Swift Packing Plant that houses it. This shop is extremely particular about the meats they sell. All are raised humanely and without hormones, steroids or chemicals. Free ranging is prerequisite. The pork from Ron Muth’s Perry Creek in Ireton is as good as pig meat gets. Ron told us he sells about 80% of his pigs to renowned Niman Ranch and the rest through his own label, and all are raised the same way.
He’s a converted free ranger. “I used to sell confinement equipment. People laughed at me when I pulled up my sheds and added pastures, my vet had a good old time with me,“ he told us. Muth’s pork is raised the way pork would have been raised in the 19th century, had the great breeding lines been available then. It’s the reason we never travel to Sioux City without a large cooler.
One Stop also handles free range beef, lamb, chicken and buffalo, all from Siouxland producers. The buffalo, from Larry, Rose and Monty Mason’s Tarbox Hollow Living Prairie seemed appropriate to our journey. Larry told us he entered the business after discovering that “the most flavorful meat in the world was from an old, dry doe. I just decided to apply that to bison.” He grazes some 350 head of buffalo, some until they 6-8 years old for the specialty market that agrees with his sense of taste. He also advises us in cooking bison, which is far leaner than beef. “Use lower temperatures and less cooking time!”
So, fortified with delicious, historically accurate meats, we head downstream toward Onawa, site of Lewis and Clark State Park and a replica of their keelboat. Mansfield wrote that contributions of native foods by Indian nations of was of incalculable importance to Lewis and Clark. West of Onawa, the Omaha Indians still conduct food commerce with Euro-Americans. The road to their casino buffet winds by some gorgeous camp grounds and parks, on a treacherous parts of the river that brought the Corps here 200 years ago.
Even within the strange world of Indian casinos, the Omaha Casino and Blackbird Bend Motor Speedway seemed quirky. The front doors were guarded by large statues of smiling rats. A neon sign directed gamblers to the buffet, but we were an hour early. That didn’t stop a quartet of senior citizens from taking their places in line though. “By the time it opens, the line will stretch way back to the slots. Then you have to wait standing up, now we can sit down,” they said, assuring us it was worth the wait.
“For $11.50 you get all the crab legs, broasted chicken and prime rib you can eat, plus salad and dessert bars, corn nuggets and beans.” Bingo! The Corps of Discovery acquired corn and beans from the Indians of this region two centuries ago.
Clark was the first person ever to write about the Loess Hills, calling them “bald-pated,” as they towered majestically over the flat, delta-like Missouri valley. Driving I-29 in Iowa today, one can easily imagine that the river landscaped the interstate. This is bottomland, former kingdom of the wider, shallower 19th century Missouri River. In the last 200 years the river has straightened itself, and been straightened by man, while these hills lost their baldness. Even without the magnificent trees that cover them now, the Loess Hills astounded the Corps of Discovery. Built of wind-born glacial silt, they hold the world’s heaviest concentration of the richest farm land ever known.
Leaving I-29 at Mondamin, we climbed quickly into another realm, where the generations who followed the explorers learned they could get good things to grow in this soil - faster, larger and better tasting.
“In 1894, great, great grandfather Small came here and bought some apples that were so much better than any he had ever tasted before that he came back the next year and bought the land to start his own orchards,” explained Tania Coret, part of the sixth generation of the family that grows and sells world famous apples at the Small Fruit Farm. Altogether 13 family members work this orchard, cider mill, pie cafe and country store. Visitors come by the bus load in the fall to pick their own, and to eat pies made famous by Tania’s grandmother Joyce.
Lewis and Clark were familiar with apples because apple jack was the drink that built America. Apple trees were hearty enough to stand up to harsh Iowa winters, but the Corps came here before the disciples of Johnny Appleseed. Small’s ciders, made from a mix of apple varieties, half sweet and half tart, are pure as the hills, the drink of Lewis and Clark‘s dreams. Coret tells us that their apples taste better because the Loess soil has almost no clay.
“We ship to people from all 50 states, we can’t ship to California, but we have customers from there. We have loyal regulars from all over, “ explained Renee Small, a fifth generation member of the family now led by Joyce and husband Russell. In a good year, they will sell 20,000 bushels of 15 variety apples.
Driving south in the hills, Iowa Highway183 brought us into Missouri Valley, home of the Desoto National Wildlife Refuge, where over 400,000 geese stop each fall, late enough in the year to avoid the bullets of the Corps. Eagles, deer, rabbits and fox still thrive here. So does Floyd’s West Kentucky BBQ, a portable outdoor smoke house set up each summer in a parking lot on West Erie, at West Street. Floyd said that he came through one day and liked the people so much he went back and brought his barbecue with him.
We drive into Council Bluffs, gambling boom town of the new millennium, to contemplate the Missouri from the Riverside Grille of the Dodge Park Golf Course. With one the best views in Iowa, Riverside is busy three meals a day. Lewis and Clark named their nearby camp “White Catfish” because Silas Goodrich caught such a fish here. From a golf course that was probably underwater when the explorers passed, we read Clark’s words “A man had like to have Starved to death in a land of Plenty for the want of Bulits or Something to kill his meat." We tried Riverside’s walleye and wondered: If Lewis and Clark had fished more and shot their guns less, maybe they wouldn‘t “have like to have Starved.”
South of Council Bluffs, I-29 glides along the flat-bottomed valley, so we detour to US 275, which soars into the southern third of the Loess Hills. It was Rodeo Week in Sidney, and Whip’s Steak House and Saloon was wild, the floor covered with peanut shells as cowboys beefed up for the competition, and local girls schemed to flirt with cowboys.
“Just tell your Daddy you have to stay and put away chairs after the rodeo’s over.”
“My Dad is not that gullible.”
This corner of Iowa is rich in soda fountains, and the A.V. Penn Drug Store, here since 1863, is among the best. A home made ham salad sandwich came with three kinds of pickles and a bag of chips, for $1.65.
In the southwest tip of Iowa, Hamburg has the look of revitalization, with a new hospital and housing development on the edge of town and a restored 1921 movie house downtown. At the 107 year old Stoner Drug Store, we heard that the edge of downtown used to be a beach. The Missouri River brought this town its initial prosperity. Now it seems miles away, tucked behind I-29, which brings this small town’s new prosperity.
Stoner makes soda the old fashioned way, with hard ice cream and real seltzer. Their famous “fried egg sundae” is a tromp d’oeil, made with egg-rich vanilla ice cream and marshmallow sauce to look like a sunny side up egg. It’s even bordered with chocolate syrup to appear a bit burnt on the edges.
Lewis and Clark never discovered ice cream, but this dish is the perfect final course to our food odyssey. Both breakfast and dessert, it is, like Hamburg, both the beginning and the end of the Iowa portion of the great trail. Made of something other that what it seems, it shows that, sometimes, neither the chicken nor the egg came first, but the cow. And the wit of humans brave enough to digest the unknown and make it familiar.
Lewis & Clark’s Menu (Recorded by Raymond Darwin Burroughs, from "The Natural History of the Lewis and Clark Expedition")
Deer 1,001
Elk 375
Bison 227
Antelope 62
Big horned sheep 35
Bears, grizzly 43
Bears, black 23
Beaver 113
Otter 16
Geese and Brant 104
Grouse 46
Turkeys 9
Plovers 48
Wolves (only one eaten) 18
Indian dogs (purchased and consumed) 190
Horses 12
Burroughs did not include smaller animals that were captured and eaten by the Corps, such “as hawk, coyote, fox, crow, eagle, gopher, muskrat, seal, whale blubber, turtle, mussels, crab, salmon, and trout.” (from Lewis & Clark Cookbook: Recipes from the Corps of Discovery and Jefferson’s America, by Leslie Mansfield)
The Modern Menu
National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium in Dubuque, sells “Lewis and Clark food items such as Sacagawea Trail Mix, Bitterroot Mountain Berries, Granny Mississippi River Jams, Mississippi River Blueberry Hoecake Mixes, Pirogues Fry Bread Mix, Missouri River Corn Bread and Granny Cherry Discovery Preserve.
Our Providers
One Stop Meat Shop
By the front door, KD Station,2001 Leech Ave
Sioux City, IA 51106-5701 , 712-395-0491
Open 9-6 Tues.- Sat.
Omaha Casino and Blackbird Bend Motor Speedway
Onawa, IA
Always open
Small’s Fruit Farm
1844 194th St.
Mondamin, IA 51557
www.smallsfruitfarm.com
712 646-2195
Open 8-6 daily, 9-5 in the winter
Riverside Grille, 2 Harrah’s Blvd. Council Bluffs, 51501, 712- 328-7079
Mon. - Sat. 7 a.m. - 10 p.m.
Sun. 7 a.m. - 8 p.m.
Whip’s Steak House, west side of Sidney square, 51652, 712-374-2728
Lunch Mon.- Sat 11-1:30
Supper Tues. - Thurs. 5-9 ; Fri. - Sat 5 - 9:30
Penn Drug Store, west side of the square, Sidney, Ia. ,51652, (712) 374-2513
Stoner Drug, 1105 Main, Hamburg, 712-382-2551
Mon. - Fri 8-6; Sat. 8 -3
This story was first published in The Iowan
That summer, the captains employed 16 extra men, in addition to their full company of 22 soldiers and 2 interpreters, plus Clark’s personal slave and Lewis‘ Newfoundland hound. Hunting, gathering and trading for food took as much effort as exploration. Clark wrote, “It takes 4 deer, or an elk and a deer, or one buffalo to supply us for 24 hours."
“Lewis and Clark Cookbook” author Leslie Mansfield concluded that each man consumed nine pounds of meat per day, when available. Game killed and consumed during the expedition included 1001 deer and 375 elk, which were available everywhere, as well as 227 buffalo, which were only available on the Plains, including Iowa. They also consumed 66 bears, 12 horses, and 190 dogs, but not Lewis’ pet.
An army might march on its stomach, as Napoleon observed, but modern tourists use more refined fuels. Obviously, any personal Lewis & Clark food odyssey needs to steer clear of historic menus, for legal, moral and cardiovascular reasons. Yet, one can hardly go looking for the body and soul of the Lewis and Clark Trail at McDonald’s. So, in the spirit of the 19th century, we decided to begin our trek of the trail at One Stop Meat Shop in Sioux City’s KD Station. Sioux City was the beginning of the expedition’s 10 day return trip through Iowa waters. Going downsteam, even just in spirit, leaves more time to look for good things to eat.
Besides, One Stop is as unique as the historic Swift Packing Plant that houses it. This shop is extremely particular about the meats they sell. All are raised humanely and without hormones, steroids or chemicals. Free ranging is prerequisite. The pork from Ron Muth’s Perry Creek in Ireton is as good as pig meat gets. Ron told us he sells about 80% of his pigs to renowned Niman Ranch and the rest through his own label, and all are raised the same way.
He’s a converted free ranger. “I used to sell confinement equipment. People laughed at me when I pulled up my sheds and added pastures, my vet had a good old time with me,“ he told us. Muth’s pork is raised the way pork would have been raised in the 19th century, had the great breeding lines been available then. It’s the reason we never travel to Sioux City without a large cooler.
One Stop also handles free range beef, lamb, chicken and buffalo, all from Siouxland producers. The buffalo, from Larry, Rose and Monty Mason’s Tarbox Hollow Living Prairie seemed appropriate to our journey. Larry told us he entered the business after discovering that “the most flavorful meat in the world was from an old, dry doe. I just decided to apply that to bison.” He grazes some 350 head of buffalo, some until they 6-8 years old for the specialty market that agrees with his sense of taste. He also advises us in cooking bison, which is far leaner than beef. “Use lower temperatures and less cooking time!”
So, fortified with delicious, historically accurate meats, we head downstream toward Onawa, site of Lewis and Clark State Park and a replica of their keelboat. Mansfield wrote that contributions of native foods by Indian nations of was of incalculable importance to Lewis and Clark. West of Onawa, the Omaha Indians still conduct food commerce with Euro-Americans. The road to their casino buffet winds by some gorgeous camp grounds and parks, on a treacherous parts of the river that brought the Corps here 200 years ago.
Even within the strange world of Indian casinos, the Omaha Casino and Blackbird Bend Motor Speedway seemed quirky. The front doors were guarded by large statues of smiling rats. A neon sign directed gamblers to the buffet, but we were an hour early. That didn’t stop a quartet of senior citizens from taking their places in line though. “By the time it opens, the line will stretch way back to the slots. Then you have to wait standing up, now we can sit down,” they said, assuring us it was worth the wait.
“For $11.50 you get all the crab legs, broasted chicken and prime rib you can eat, plus salad and dessert bars, corn nuggets and beans.” Bingo! The Corps of Discovery acquired corn and beans from the Indians of this region two centuries ago.
Clark was the first person ever to write about the Loess Hills, calling them “bald-pated,” as they towered majestically over the flat, delta-like Missouri valley. Driving I-29 in Iowa today, one can easily imagine that the river landscaped the interstate. This is bottomland, former kingdom of the wider, shallower 19th century Missouri River. In the last 200 years the river has straightened itself, and been straightened by man, while these hills lost their baldness. Even without the magnificent trees that cover them now, the Loess Hills astounded the Corps of Discovery. Built of wind-born glacial silt, they hold the world’s heaviest concentration of the richest farm land ever known.
Leaving I-29 at Mondamin, we climbed quickly into another realm, where the generations who followed the explorers learned they could get good things to grow in this soil - faster, larger and better tasting.
“In 1894, great, great grandfather Small came here and bought some apples that were so much better than any he had ever tasted before that he came back the next year and bought the land to start his own orchards,” explained Tania Coret, part of the sixth generation of the family that grows and sells world famous apples at the Small Fruit Farm. Altogether 13 family members work this orchard, cider mill, pie cafe and country store. Visitors come by the bus load in the fall to pick their own, and to eat pies made famous by Tania’s grandmother Joyce.
Lewis and Clark were familiar with apples because apple jack was the drink that built America. Apple trees were hearty enough to stand up to harsh Iowa winters, but the Corps came here before the disciples of Johnny Appleseed. Small’s ciders, made from a mix of apple varieties, half sweet and half tart, are pure as the hills, the drink of Lewis and Clark‘s dreams. Coret tells us that their apples taste better because the Loess soil has almost no clay.
“We ship to people from all 50 states, we can’t ship to California, but we have customers from there. We have loyal regulars from all over, “ explained Renee Small, a fifth generation member of the family now led by Joyce and husband Russell. In a good year, they will sell 20,000 bushels of 15 variety apples.
Driving south in the hills, Iowa Highway183 brought us into Missouri Valley, home of the Desoto National Wildlife Refuge, where over 400,000 geese stop each fall, late enough in the year to avoid the bullets of the Corps. Eagles, deer, rabbits and fox still thrive here. So does Floyd’s West Kentucky BBQ, a portable outdoor smoke house set up each summer in a parking lot on West Erie, at West Street. Floyd said that he came through one day and liked the people so much he went back and brought his barbecue with him.
We drive into Council Bluffs, gambling boom town of the new millennium, to contemplate the Missouri from the Riverside Grille of the Dodge Park Golf Course. With one the best views in Iowa, Riverside is busy three meals a day. Lewis and Clark named their nearby camp “White Catfish” because Silas Goodrich caught such a fish here. From a golf course that was probably underwater when the explorers passed, we read Clark’s words “A man had like to have Starved to death in a land of Plenty for the want of Bulits or Something to kill his meat." We tried Riverside’s walleye and wondered: If Lewis and Clark had fished more and shot their guns less, maybe they wouldn‘t “have like to have Starved.”
South of Council Bluffs, I-29 glides along the flat-bottomed valley, so we detour to US 275, which soars into the southern third of the Loess Hills. It was Rodeo Week in Sidney, and Whip’s Steak House and Saloon was wild, the floor covered with peanut shells as cowboys beefed up for the competition, and local girls schemed to flirt with cowboys.
“Just tell your Daddy you have to stay and put away chairs after the rodeo’s over.”
“My Dad is not that gullible.”
This corner of Iowa is rich in soda fountains, and the A.V. Penn Drug Store, here since 1863, is among the best. A home made ham salad sandwich came with three kinds of pickles and a bag of chips, for $1.65.
In the southwest tip of Iowa, Hamburg has the look of revitalization, with a new hospital and housing development on the edge of town and a restored 1921 movie house downtown. At the 107 year old Stoner Drug Store, we heard that the edge of downtown used to be a beach. The Missouri River brought this town its initial prosperity. Now it seems miles away, tucked behind I-29, which brings this small town’s new prosperity.
Stoner makes soda the old fashioned way, with hard ice cream and real seltzer. Their famous “fried egg sundae” is a tromp d’oeil, made with egg-rich vanilla ice cream and marshmallow sauce to look like a sunny side up egg. It’s even bordered with chocolate syrup to appear a bit burnt on the edges.
Lewis and Clark never discovered ice cream, but this dish is the perfect final course to our food odyssey. Both breakfast and dessert, it is, like Hamburg, both the beginning and the end of the Iowa portion of the great trail. Made of something other that what it seems, it shows that, sometimes, neither the chicken nor the egg came first, but the cow. And the wit of humans brave enough to digest the unknown and make it familiar.
Lewis & Clark’s Menu (Recorded by Raymond Darwin Burroughs, from "The Natural History of the Lewis and Clark Expedition")
Deer 1,001
Elk 375
Bison 227
Antelope 62
Big horned sheep 35
Bears, grizzly 43
Bears, black 23
Beaver 113
Otter 16
Geese and Brant 104
Grouse 46
Turkeys 9
Plovers 48
Wolves (only one eaten) 18
Indian dogs (purchased and consumed) 190
Horses 12
Burroughs did not include smaller animals that were captured and eaten by the Corps, such “as hawk, coyote, fox, crow, eagle, gopher, muskrat, seal, whale blubber, turtle, mussels, crab, salmon, and trout.” (from Lewis & Clark Cookbook: Recipes from the Corps of Discovery and Jefferson’s America, by Leslie Mansfield)
The Modern Menu
National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium in Dubuque, sells “Lewis and Clark food items such as Sacagawea Trail Mix, Bitterroot Mountain Berries, Granny Mississippi River Jams, Mississippi River Blueberry Hoecake Mixes, Pirogues Fry Bread Mix, Missouri River Corn Bread and Granny Cherry Discovery Preserve.
Our Providers
One Stop Meat Shop
By the front door, KD Station,2001 Leech Ave
Sioux City, IA 51106-5701 , 712-395-0491
Open 9-6 Tues.- Sat.
Omaha Casino and Blackbird Bend Motor Speedway
Onawa, IA
Always open
Small’s Fruit Farm
1844 194th St.
Mondamin, IA 51557
www.smallsfruitfarm.com
712 646-2195
Open 8-6 daily, 9-5 in the winter
Riverside Grille, 2 Harrah’s Blvd. Council Bluffs, 51501, 712- 328-7079
Mon. - Sat. 7 a.m. - 10 p.m.
Sun. 7 a.m. - 8 p.m.
Whip’s Steak House, west side of Sidney square, 51652, 712-374-2728
Lunch Mon.- Sat 11-1:30
Supper Tues. - Thurs. 5-9 ; Fri. - Sat 5 - 9:30
Penn Drug Store, west side of the square, Sidney, Ia. ,51652, (712) 374-2513
Stoner Drug, 1105 Main, Hamburg, 712-382-2551
Mon. - Fri 8-6; Sat. 8 -3
This story was first published in The Iowan
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