South Dakota Trip, Part 2: Frybread and Serendipity

I was semi-organized enough before my vacation to have made lodging arrangements and two dinner reservations for the week. But I certainly didn’t have my days scheduled to the hour like some of the folks about the Blackhills and Badlands on Tripadvisor, whose tips I’m nonetheless grateful for. Once I got to Custer State Park, I packed a sandwich, started meandering my way around, got friendly with my maps, and kind of let my vacation unfold before me.

Needles Highway was recommended as a highlight, and it turned out my cabin at Sylvan Lake was already on it. I continued past the lake to encounter sights like these my first morning.

Needles Highway (as well as Iron Mountain Road, which I traveled later) is also known for its one-lane tunnels. Apparently even a trained tour bus driver can make his/her way through these passages, but they are quite something to come upon for the first time.

Continuing farther south toward the Wildlife Loop, I spotted these bighorn sheep. (OK, actually I spotted the cars pulled off on the side of the road – a good sign in a place like this that there’s something worth stopping to see.) When I was a wee sprout, bighorn sheep were a common sight in Rocky Mountain National Park, where I spent many happy days thanks to my grandparents’ cabin. But illness all but decimated the bighorn population in RMNP, and this was the first time in decades I’d seen them. A harbinger of a good day, in my book.

Just before I hit the turnoff to the Wildlife Loop, I saw more cars on the side of the road. Ah, yes, tatanka, or buffalo. I happily bided my time while these magnificent creatures ambled across the road, managing to snap a few pics from the safety of my car and with the aid of my camera’s zoom, when I remembered to use it.

Shortly thereafter, I had to brake for antelope, whose horns are far more distinctive than their butts, to my untrained eye. But this is the only photo I managed to snap after this guy galloped down the road behind my car.

In the biggest traffic jam of all were these animals, who I’ve learned, thanks to the folks at the Blackhills, Badlands, and Lakes Association, are “typically called burros (Spanish) here in the Hills, yet they are donkeys. They were previously used as pack animals approximately 100 years ago for tourists visiting Mt. Harney. Then turned loose in the '30s and there they have been ever since.” They were short and very tame, poking their heads into car windows.

In addition to scenic drives and all this wildlife, Custer State Park includes several lodges with adjacent cabins, numerous lakes, and boating opportunities of all sorts. This is Legion Lake, where I stopped to admire water fowl and their downy offspring. I wish I'd stopped and explored more that day. Sigh, but all the more reason to return :)

I’d packed a sandwich for lunch, but just as I was getting hungry, I came upon State Game Lodge. My sister, who vacationed in South Dakota last summer with her husband’s family and passed along numerous wonderful tips, had mentioned a memorable buffalo stew she’d eaten here.

Comments I'd read online suggested State Game Lodge offered the best food of any of the lodges in the park, although I'm not sure you'd go wrong with any of them. My timing seemed a sign I should forgo my sandwich and treat myself to lunch here. Although there’s also a lunch buffet served here (and at many of the lodges, I think), I zeroed in on two items from the appetizers section of the menu: One was a cup of this hearty and delicious buffalo stew my sister had talked about.

The other was Smoked Chicken Frybread with applewood smoked bacon, sautéed chicken, tomatoes, wild forest mushrooms, topped with fried leeks – a fantastic combination that tugged at all my culinary heartstrings. Especially the frybread, a Native American staple I’d never before had the opportunity to taste. I can’t say that this was made by a Native mom, but I did enjoy it and the forest of ingredients that accompanied it. The frybread is the crispy thing in the lower lefthand corner that looks kind of like a pie.

In case you're in need of a jolt of whimsy during this long post, here's a clip about frybread from one of my favorite movies of all time: Smoke Signals.


So, I promised you a walk around Sylvan Lake, and I'll try to keep this short as I sign off. My sister clued me in that she'd done this walk and that after you think the trail ends, you can actually go further and get "behind" the rocks.

I started off on the far side of the lake from my cabin and the camp store, over in the day-trip parking lot and went as far as I could get.

My walk on that side of the lake did not result in what I assumed she was referring to. But I saw folks hiking on the side near to the camp store, so shifted gears and walked that trail.

I came upon this bridge that appeared to dead-end straight into rock:

I wondered if the lake was just too high to traverse the water along the craggy rocks that led to the bridge.

Then I found a sliver of a trail that led to this:

These steps take you down at the other end of that slot passage:

And here's that "bridge to nowhere" from behind.

Edited to add: Additional wildlife and Sylvan Lake photos now up on my blog facebook page (which I think should be visible to anyone): https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eggplant-To-Go/188874297804112

More South Dakota tales as well as local food posts coming up. But for now this is it, kids.

xoxo,eggy

South Dakota Trip, Part 1: It All Started in the Ice Cream Capital of the World

The impetus for my trip to South Dakota was my nephew’s wedding in his bride’s hometown of Le Mars, in northwest Iowa, home of Blue Bunny Ice Cream. By official proclamation of the State of Iowa, Le Mars is the Ice Cream Capital of the World. Blue Bunny even has an Ice Cream Museum. Sadly it was closed that day in preparation for relocation to new digs in downtown Le Mars. But the lucky flip side was that the adjacent ice cream parlor was giving away free ice cream to clear out inventory. What a tasty introduction to the city!

The outdoor ceremony was lovely, and the reception was quite a bash. Rather than selecting a specific wedding color, the bride took her inspiration from peacock feathers, which were even incorporated into the invitations.

Place cards were die-cut peacocks, and the feather motif was included in various ways, as in this menu card.

In lieu of a wedding cake, the happy couple served Blue Bunny White Chocolate Raspberry Truffles – ice cream served in a hard chocolate shell with raspberries on the side. And every table featured plates of “buckeyes” – candies made of peanut butter dipped in chocolate that resemble the fruit of the buckeye tree. They were made by a former co-worker of my nephew’s, who now works with his mother’s online business, Marsha’s Homemade Buckeyes. My nephew is also a diehard fan of the Buckeye teams at his alma mater, Ohio State, so they made a fine and fun substitute for a groom’s cake.

Le Mars turned out to be a larger burg than I expected, but still, the closest cost-effective place to fly into is Omaha, a two-hour drive away. As I checked my atlas and weighed the pros and cons of driving vs. flying, I realized Le Mars is within an hour from South Dakota. As a kid, my family had done a cross-country trip one summer during which we spent a day or two in the Badlands and Black Hills. Those areas made a big impression on me and I’d always wanted to go back and spend more time exploring them. This wedding, 41 years later, seemed like a perfect opportunity. I would drive to the wedding, then keep on going. South Dakota is one of those Midwestern states that’s about 400 miles wide, and I was headed to the western part of the state, so I had plenty of driving ahead of me.

On the recommendation of a woman I met at the wedding who lives in South Dakota, I stopped for lunch at Al’s Oasis in Chamberlain, where I-90 crosses the Missouri River. Al’s is one of many Old West-themed spots in the state designed to lure tourists.

I tend to avoid these potentially crowded places, but I was grateful for the heads-up from my new acquaintance on this one – Al’s does indeed make a mighty tasty buffalo burger! I knew I’d have trouble getting a photo in the dark, cavernous log cabin restaurant that seats 300, so I didn’t try. But here’s a pic I’m borrowing from their website.

A few hours farther down I-90, I arrived at the town of Wall, where I would spend my first night (and a night later in the week on my return trip) in an absolutely charming cabin at Frontier Cabins. Newly constructed log cabins just off I-90 and 6 miles from the entrance to Badlands National Park, they are homey and spacious, tastefully decorated with log furniture, complete with pretty much any amenity you could want, at a price comparable to a motel room with far less character. In addition to microwave and refrigerator in every cabin are picnic tables and charcoal grills outside the cabins, plus a central shelter house with a huge gas grill and hot tub. And the two women who run the place couldn’t be nicer or more welcoming.

I’d been driving across the state under cloud cover, only to arrive in driving rain, so in lieu of cooking out, I opted for a motel room picnic, turned on the furnace, and got a great night’s sleep in my cozy quarters. Monday morning was cloudy and chilly as forecasted, so I considered my sightseeing options.

I couldn’t bring myself to embark on a visit to the famous indoor tourist village that is Wall Drug, which has hundreds if not thousands of billboards throughout South Dakota and neighboring states. Cindie wanted me to pick up an “I went to Wall Drug” bumper sticker for the golf cart she drives through her small town to take her dog to the park, which would have been a hoot. But I don’t think they have any bumper stickers phrased quite that way. Sorry, Cindie.

Instead of patronizing the Wasichu, I chose to visit the Wounded Knee Museum. There’s a ton of information and archives packed into this small and unassuming storefront that illuminates centuries of Native American history in the area and provides context for what happened at the Battle for Wounded Knee. I was aware of some of it, but learned much more. Although photographing is permitted, I elected not to snap any interior shots during the hour and a half I immersed myself in the exhibits, the museum’s only “customer” during that time, grateful for the absence of tourists and centered by the gentle Native American flute and drum music filling the museum. The story told by the museum is powerful, and heartbreaking. There is a reason for the box of tissues placed next to the scale model of Wounded Knee. I took a half-hearted look at the museum gift shop afterward, but was too overwhelmed to hunt out that “Make Fry Bread, Not War” t-shirt I’d seen outside. Maybe I can find it online.

When I emerged from the museum, it was still cloudy, although the cloud ceiling was higher and the temperature warmer. I took a spin through the Badlands on the paved loop road to give myself an idea of how much territory was involved and how long it would take to drive when I returned later in the week, saving my photo taking for a sunnier day. I headed west on I-90 to Rapid City, then south to my cabin on Sylvan Lake in Custer State Park in the heart of the (southern) Black Hills for two nights.

The state park accommodations were older and more worn than those at Frontier Cabins in Wall, but there’s a lot to be said for such proximity to Sylvan Lake, where I had a “housekeeping” cabin, which means I had a kitchenette with a stovetop. Even better, a picnic table just outside my door overlooking the lake. If you squint at this photo I took in the late afternoon light the next day, you might be able to see said picnic table.

Here's Sylvan Lake itself.

That’s it for tonight’s installment. Coming up soon: Join me on a hike around Sylvan Lake. Plus wildlife and “cave bacon.”

10 days, 3074 miles, and 427 photos

No, I didn't do all that traveling just to eat. I am, alas, home from a spectacular trip to South Dakota and intend to hijack my own food blog for a travel post or three. Until I can cull through those photos, here's a taste.

Thanks to those of you who wondered or worried about me. Unplugging can be a good thing. A very good thing indeed.

xoxo, eggy

New Orleans to Go Bayou Extravaganza!

I’ve made no secret of my appreciation for the food served up by the New Orleans to Go food truck folks, LaToya and Randy Foster. I’m a fan of their continually changing menu (more opportunities to try new dishes!), and they never fail to put a smile on my face.

A couple of weeks ago I tried their Buffalo Chicken BLT Po-Boy for the first time.

Anything LaToya fries – shrimp, catfish, oysters, or this time, chicken – is fried to perfection, and well worth the short wait while she cooks to order. You can also count on a heaping plate of food. My bulging Buffalo Chicken Po-Boy came with sides of red beans and rice and a kicky Cajun potato salad that I want more of - now!

I loved the crisp chicken mingled with sassy buffalo ranch, tomato, and lettuce. But a little somethin’ somethin’ seemed to be missing. When I got home from work that night, I found a message from LaToya: “Eggplant I forgot your bacon!” Yep, I’d been anticipating some bacon on that Buffalo Chicken BLT. Not finding it, I thought perhaps I’d misunderstood and that the “B” was for the Buffalo chicken. Instead of feeling short-changed, when I read her message, I laughed out loud.

I’d gotten wind that lobster, corn, shrimp, and grits might be in the offing the following day, so I headed back to 5th and Vine that Friday. Sure enough, grits were on the menu and I didn’t hesitate to order them. LaToya’s husband Randy told me it was “lagniappe day” – true in more ways than one. When I got back to my desk and opened my lunch, what had beem added to my fabulous grits? Bacon! Another touch that had me grinning.

The New Orleans to Go folks had a brick-and-mortar restaurant in Springdale before they closed it last March, opting to shift gears and go the food truck route when Cincinnati passed legislation allowing food trucks at selected downtown locations. This spring LaToya and Randy started talking about doing an all-you-can-eat crawfish boil – an open-to-the-public get-together with new and old customers and friends, and I kept my ear to the ground as the details settled out. New Orleans to Go - aka A Streetcart Named Desire's -  First Annual Bayou Extravaganza was last Friday night, at the clubhouse in the Hebron, KY subdivision where they live.

At $25.00 per person prepaid ($35.00 if you walked in that night without a reservation or ticket), it was a whopping amount of food and a whole lotta fun. I invited my New Orleans-lovin’ friends Trish and Amy from Lima to join me, along with our friend Becky from Bethel, and we had a mighty Zydeco good time.

In fact, the food and frivolity were so good I forgot to pull out my camera when the first plates came out: Wings - with Buffalo, Cajun, barbeque, or Voodoo sauce. The Voodoo wings were hot off New Orleans to Go's truck parked outside the clubhouse when we sat down at our table, so I happily dove into them, with no thought of photo-clicking in my head.

Next up were huge plates of etoufee over dirty rice flanked by fried shrimp and fried catfish - the catfish especially garnered raves from my friends, and proved that my recommendation was well worth their travels. Again, we devoured the food before us, sans camera, although here's a close-up of that marvelous etoufee.

The event was BYOB, but Randy offered his hard lemonade to the adults (virgin lemonade for the kids in the crowd, who were having their own rambunctious time) in these swell souvenir cups. Whatever was in them, this drink was a hit with me and all my gal pals. Randy says he used to make Hurricane Katrinas at the restaurant, and what I wouldn't give to taste one of them.

Finally, it was time for the main event: 100 pounds of crawfish for the room (one of my friends counted about 35 people), served with potatoes and Toya's Cajun corn.

It took us silly Northern girls a while to work on our pinch and suck technique with the crawfish (pinch the tails, suck the heads). We were so full by that point in the meal that we managed to finish only one plate each, plus one for the table, much to LaToya's chagrin ("This is a crawfish boil - you're supposed to eat until you puke," she admonished us).

Somewhere in the midst of the festivities and feeding frenzy, I wisely turned my camera over to my friend Trish. We shall not speak of the demise of her own camera, but I know from spending a week with her in Colorado that she is a fierce photographer.

Sadly (and bad on me), the batteries in my camera were running low once I passed off my camera to Trisha, but she did manage to snap this pic of the pile of crawfish shells wracked up by the "Seventh Ward Posse" when Toya looked at our paltry accumulation of crawfish shells on the newspaper-covered table, pointed to the table next to us, and said, "Now that's how it's done." This photo doesn't begin to do justice to the pile of crawdad shells amassed by those folks.They were serious! And not letting any meat going to waste :)

Of course, this wasn't just an evening of food. It was a par-tay! Lots of great New Orleans music playing all evening long. Beads were bestowed. Handkerchiefs were distributed. Once the cooking portion of her evening was over, LaToya and friends led a Second Line Dance  (more photos on my eggy fb page).

A dance called the Zydeco bounce was also involved.

It was a great night. Thanks to Amy, Trisha, and Becky for joining me, and to LaToya and Randy for hosting. My girls and and I are holding our souvenir cups close and looking forward to New Orleans to Go's Second Annual Bayou Extravaganza for another great rendezvous.

To cap it off, as we waited for our cab, LaToya sent us home with the best party favors ever - etoufee with more Cajun corn, one of our favorite dishes of the night! I don't know where she got that corn this time of year, but it tasted like summer - and New Orleans :)