View from the Mountain

Barbecue for breakfast

I love barbecue, and it looked for a while like I was going to miss the biggest barbecue event in the state.   

I had to work during the afternoon and the barbecue event was scheduled to end at 5:30 pm  which was before I could get back to Newport.

Had I been a little more aware of what was happening in the area, there is no way I would have scheduled work. My work limited us to an hour at Newport, NC's Annual Pig Cooking contest.

Dedication to good barbecue helped me make the decision to try to do an early lunch so I could taste that homemade Eastern NC barbecue.

The numbers I read indicated that 86 pigs or more were put in the cookers last night to be judged today.  They also mentioned the total slaw served is something on the order of 53 five gallon buckets.  That a lot of slaw anyway you chop it.

Because I had to be at work in early afternoon, we almost had a barbecue brunch or breakfast.  We sat down for an early barbecue lunch at 11:30 am this morning, and we certainly were not alone.  We also had some house wine (Sweet Tea) to go with the meal.

The food was great and inexpensive, $6 for more barbecue and fixings than most folks can eat and $1 for the tea.

We were able to wander around for thirty minutes so we did get to enjoy the festival a little.  I got some great pictures which I have posted on a website, the Newport, NC Pig Cooking Contest & Festival.

More and more I am convinced that our festivals define our towns these days.  This was a great one with lots of fun for kids and adults.  Elvis even showed up for the event, and the weather could not have been better.

Good food, friends, and entertainment is a hard combination to beat.  I want to say thanks to all the volunteers in Newport, NC who worked so hard on an event that went off very smoothly. 

Now if they will just ship me an extra pound of that delicious barbecue in appreciation for my writing such a nice article about the event, we will call it even until next year.  I will even drive over to pick it up.   I do not plan to rush through the event next year.  The rumor is that if they have extra barbecue that they sell it by the pound later in the afternoon.

Earlier this morning, I did manage to make it over to the beach and snap some sunrise pictures, it was a great start to the day.  This picture, which I call, beach morning houses, was one of my favorites.  It certainly is a beautiful time of year.  It is nice to see things turning green.

The last phone booth

It's amazing how things fade from your memory.  I took my first trip around the United States in 1966.  A friend and I drove 9,000 miles in three weeks.  We went north across the northern plains and came back across the south, finally driving straight through from Carlsbad, New Mexico to Myrtle Beach, SC.

We were in a blue GTO Convertible (similar to the one pictured in my post Cars, A great movie).  At the time Holiday Inns, A&W Root Beer, and Kentucky Fried Chicken ruled the road.  There were no cells phones, and calling home often meant finding a telephone booth.  Almost every gas station had one.  Today they are rare.  I'm betting that in less than five years, they'll all be gone.

At the time of that trip, much of America was very different.  The great levelers, television and mall shopping, had yet to grind up differences and make one town much like any other one a thousand miles away.

I groan as I hear people wish for the arrival chain restaurants for their faceless mediocrity.  I am not saying that the local restaurants are always at their best, but when they are at their peak,  there is no way a carefully controlled portion pack destined to create corporate profits can match their magic.

I will gamble on a local spot anytime I get the chance. As I wrote in Dining with character  the memories which you create are well worth the risk.

I sometimes wonder how each place differentiates itself these days.  Someone once remarked that he had some exchange students visiting and wanted to send them back home with something made in Roanoke.  He searched and searched and could no longer find anything made in our valley.  The trinkets were all made in China.

I guess that's why today's memories and events carry so much more importance .  There are some places still identified with their products.  I can still send someone home with a piece of Mt. Airy granite.  Mt. Airy is home to the largest open face granite quarry in the world, but I'm much more likely to give them something about Andy Griffith and Mayberry,  the fictional village with tenuous links to Mount Airy. 

We have become whatever we imagine in our minds or what we can create mentally, not necessarily what we build, shape, dig, or ship.

Being connected with one another took effort in the days of the phone booth.  Today I see plenty of people far too connected to their personal world to be aware of the external world around them. Events and festivals bring us together and give us a sense of place. They try to create a sense of something more than the individual at least for those who can put down their cell phones for a few hours.  Perhaps Festival in the Park is Roanoke now.

It is strange to think that as the telephone booth has disappeared some folks have become so connected that they are almost unaware of their immediate surroundings.  They can be driving through a parking lot and talking with someone almost anywhere in the world.  The parking lot, often even the rules of the road are ignored because the remote connection is more important than the real place.

Place has lost some of its importance as the connection to others has become a place in itself.  Cyber-place and its somewhat virtual reality has become the important spot to some folks.  The connection has become important enough that some folks lose touch with their surroundings.

You can sample the feeling of not knowing where you are by doing a lot of business travel. You wake up in a Marriott or whatever, but you don't know where it is.  Some days if you read only USA Today, you still would be guessing your real location after breakfast especially if you were destined for another day of meetings in those windowless meeting rooms so popular in hotels.

It is easy to lose tract of your location these days, but it is just as important to not let it happen.  Awareness of where you are, how you got there, and the factors that might take you from there are important.  They are a large factor in the dynamics of the person you become even if it is hard to understand that.

I spend a lot of my time trying to connect to people who are really intertwined with their location. They know its rhythms, moods, dangers, and pleasures. Some new software such as plazes.com tries to tie being connected with a real place.  You can check my plaze with this link.

We should not let the sense place disappear as the telephone booths surely will.  We should fight for those little places that make our homes and lives different from each other.  We don't want to get to the point that the only restaurants are all run by Taco Bell.

Those special spots, a hidden beach, a great fishing hole, a little known trail, a diner packed every morning and evening, a small local bookstore or coffee shop are all worth fighting for before the blender known as America goes from puree to smoothie.

Long live the Burger in the Square, Odell's, Bastian's, Fairway, the Smoke House at Holly Ridge, and the Dinette in East Bend.  I have to add Clyde Phillips Seafood to the list, it has more character than all of the seafood departments in all of the supermarkets in the US put together. I silently scream as each local hardware store or bookstore gives way to to chains of sameness.

If you're looking for a spot where there are plenty of local characters, give me a call (info on my website). I might have just the spot.  The view at sunset is outstanding. We even have some folks who are going to great heights to enjoy the action.

Swansboro, NC Oyster Roast

As a newcomer I had little idea of what to expect at the 27th Annual Oyster Roast which was sponsored by the Rotary Club of Swansboro and took place recently on March 17th.  The only warning I had gotten from colleagues was that there would be a crowd.  I was beginning to think of the Oyster Roast as some sort of initiation that new members of the community have to go through blind folded.  Hearing that it was also called the Swansboro Cotillion only added to the confusion.  The last time I checked a cotillion was "A ball at which young ladies are presented to society."  What in the world could that have to do with Steamed Oysters?

I decided to show at 5:15 PM which is a time that I thought was pretty early for dinner.  Somehow I was not surprised to find a long line of happy people snaking its way through the parking lot of the Civic Center.  It was a little chilly in line, and some of the ladies were working hard to move it in the direction of the sun, but it soon began moving swiftly.  As I already had a ticket, I got my green wrist ban and immediately saw this room filled with strange tables with people already crowed around them and occasionally cheering.

As a newcomer I had a lot of freedom to move around the tables.  The first thing I figured out was that in order to participate in the fun you needed a tool and something to protect your hands.  Fortunately there was a contingency plan for this situation.  Two gentlemen from Sneads Ferry were selling Oyster Knives and towels that conveniently took a five dollar bill.  I bought my equipment and started searching for a spot to stand at a table.  It did not take me long to figure out that there were no spots.  It seemed the first wave of Oyster eaters were still hungry and guarding their prime spots.  I did discover that the cheering alternated between excitement at actually getting Oysters or trying to convince the runner that you were more deserving than the next table.

Finding the steamer tables full required only a slight change in tactics.  I decided to take advantage of the Fried Flounder, Barbecue, Slaw, and Chowder buffet line.  I got a plate which was filled rather quickly.  In fact there was no room for a Hot Dog or Chowder.  After finding a beverage, I took a seat at one of the many long tables in the hall.  The Flounder very lightly breaded and fried perfectly. I thought to myself that I needed to check out these expert Flounder Fryers before I left.  The Barbecue was also good but not quite as good as the fresh out of the cooker Barbecue I had found at the Emerald Isle Saint Patrick's Day Festival.  Still the plate food at the Oyster Roast was delicious.  However, I wisely decided that the real treasure of the sea was waiting for me back in the Oyster Hall.

On the way back I decided to take a look at the behind the scenes operation. As I surveyed the scene outside the building, I was awestruck by the size of the operation. First there were the cement mixer-like machines which washed the Oysters before their trip to the rows of steamers, then the Steamed Oysters went to buckets for delivery to the tables.  At the tables the Oysters once stripped of their treasure were pushed down a chute in the middle of the table which landed them in a trash can which came back to be emptied into a front end loader which placed the empty shells in a dump truck for a trip back to the water. 

After figuring out the Oyster Roast operation I watched almost mesmerized as the well practiced Fish Fryers took fresh Flounder, rolled it in batter, and quickly turned it into a delicious fried treat.  I struck up a conversation with the Hush Puppy Man who seemed to be dropping them in the oil to a tune playing in his head.  He confirmed that having rhythm was important to a good hush puppy.  After snapping some more pictures of the operation, I decided it was time to enter the fray and not give up until I found a spot at a table.

It did not take long to find a spot as some of the early eaters were reaching their limits.  I found a spot by someone native to Swansboro who had driven 120 miles from Lumberton to be a guide for his daughter and son-in-law's first Oyster Roast.  It turned out to be a fortuitous spot since I was able to also learn at the side of a master Oyster Eater.  When I got to the table it was just finishing up a batch.  We only had to endure a few steaming buckets bypassing us before we got a huge dose of hot Oysters.  I was told to start work on the hinge if possible.  It did not take long to pry out several of the treasures. 

Most people were dipping them in butter or sauces that they had concocted.  However, I thought the perfectly salty Oysters were great straight from the shell without any additional flavoring. I even ate from a neighboring shucker was found a particularly huge one that was more than he wanted to tackle. I do not think that I have ever had Oysters this plump and juicy.  I took advantage of one piece of sage advice from the Oyster Master next to me.  When I got to point of thinking I could eat just one more, I stopped before I ate the one more.  It was very good advice.  With a belly full of Oysters, I could only manage to listen to the music from afar since there was a sunset about to happen on the White Oak, and it was calling me.  I never did get a beer.  I guess that will have to wait.

I know one thing I will be back next year, and I will have a team of Oyster Eaters with me, ready to capture our own table.  I am already looking forward to it.  If you would like a full tour of the event check out the website of pictures I put up.

Festival tents mark a new coastal season

It is rather appropriate for festivals to begin when the land and the sea begin to show signs of life. I have always enjoyed  Roanoke's Festival in the Park.  It's a great community party, but it comes much later in the year.
There were two festivals near our home on the NC Crystal Coast recently.  The first was a Saint Patrick's Day Festival sponsored by the town of Emerald Isle. The second was the 27th Annual Oyster Roast  sponsored by the Rotary Club of Swansboro.  Some of the marketing for the event also called it the "Annual Oyster Roast, Pig Out, and Swansboro Cotillion."  I'll have to say among festivals it is an amazing one.
I have never been in a room filled with tables designed to eat steamed Oysters.  I took a lot of behind the scenes pictures of how the Oysters got from the bags, to the steamers, to the tables, and back to the front end loader bucket and on to the dump truck where they'll eventually go back to the water.   The photos are on a website, "Swansboro Oyster Roast & Pig Out."  In ranking great community parties, I would have to rank this one high on the scale.  I ate some of the most delicious, huge, plump Oysters that I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy. 
They were wonderfully salty and in my humble opinion did not even need butter or any kind of sauce.  I had more than one perfect steamed Oyster.  There was plenty of other food, including Barbecue, Hot Dogs, Fried Flounder, and Clam Chowder for those who don't enjoy the challenge of prying the treasures of the sea from crusty shells.  There was even a dining room with chairs for the regular plate food.
I met some really nice folks who had just moved to the Swansboro which happened to be where the wife grew up.  Her father had even driven 120 miles from Lumberton, NC to act as a guide for their first Oyster Roast. I even met someone from Mount Airy, North Carolina which is my home stomping grounds.
It takes a tremendous amount of effort to pull off an event like the Oyster Roast or the Saint Patrick's Day Festival in Emerald Isle which reminds me of Roanoke's Festival in the Park which I don't plan to miss.
Events like these mark the turning of the seasons, the time when the earth and sea are awakening with the warmth of the sun.  I saw bait fish in the channel behind our second home this week. With that and the Bradford Pear trees along with other spring trees showing their blooms, I guess we have made it through another winter, and it is time to celebrate.

 

Sometimes the memories are better than the reality

This has probably happened to everyone.  You go back to place where you had a wonderful meal or a great experience.  You're hoping to recreate that special feeling that you got the last time. 

Time, circumstances, and inevitable change often make that impossible.  At fifty eight years of age, I have plenty of memories. Lots of them are ones that I enjoy revisiting.  Many of the memories involve people that are no longer with us.  That makes them even more special. 

This week I attended a meeting in Morehead City which included lunch at Captain Bill's.

I have been wandering around the Crystal Coast for over 40 years.  That includes plenty of time in the last four years where I suppose I was actually avoiding Captain Bill's. I think I might even have eaten there once in those four years and immediately blocked the experience from my mind.

I guess in the life of a restaurant, there comes a time when the building holds more great memories than it does good food.  Being inside the building sparks the memories and often helps you overlook what might have become pretty average lunch or dinner fare.

There were times in the sixties and seventies when I thought a meal at Captain Bill's was dying and going to heaven.  I can remember one fishing trip to the Point in Emerald Isle.  It was probably in the summer 1968 or 69.  My Uncle Austin and I were at the coast in my lime green original Ford Bronco.  The clutch had some coat hanger wire keeping it working, and I think we had to add a soda can patch to the exhaust system on that trip.

We had driven through one of the beach access points and on down to the Point at Emerald Isle where we fished most of the day.  Most fishermen would not be surprised that we fished only snacking on some Nabs with soda.

At the end of the day, we put some air in the tires, went back to the motel and showered.  Then we hit Captain Bill's for a dinner of Sweet Iced Tea, Fried Flounder, Oysters, Hush Puppies, and Slaw.  My guess is that we had some pie to finish off the meal.  As I remember they were once famous for either their Coconut Creme or Lemon Pie.

Maybe it was being dehydrated, sun burned, and wind whipped or perhaps it was the most excellent story telling skills of Uncle Austin, but it was a memorable meal.  Certainly it was more than the perfectly cooked food at the end of the day.  We had caught almost no fish, but it was a wonderful day just hanging out together in the sand and surf.  It was the first of some fun driving experiences on the beach.  I will never forget driving along the beach, hoping not to get stuck or overheated in four wheel low.  Those were the early days of four wheel drives and interesting things always happened.

My Uncle Austin was one of those people who could always handle just about any situation.  Given a torch and a welder, he could build anything. With wire and pliers, he could repair anything.  I never met someone who could make a joke any funnier. He was a wonderful person to have as a mentor.  Who knows when I might need those torch and welder skills again?   They were wonderful to have during my farm years.

For his sake I'm going to remember the great meals we had at Captain Bill's when it was one of the great Carolina seafood houses.  I am going to forget I even ate there last Monday.

There are plenty great places for Carolina fried seafood.  In 2007, I can suggest T&Ws Oyster Bar on Route 58 near Cape Carteret. They have wonder Oysters on the dinner menu, but usually can be convinced to fry some for lunch. I don't know that I have tried their Flounder.

Jordan's Seafood in Emerald does wonderful Oysters and Flounder. They're closed on Tuesdays.  Mike's in Emerald Isle does a really good lunch Oyster Basket which is probably the best buy if you're looking for a good taste of Oysters without spending a lot of money.  Mike's only stays open until 2 pm so you cannot eat a late lunch there.

You can also just head over the bridge to Beaufort and eat at the Net House on Turner Street.

If you work it right, you can keep the memories and still have great meals.