night at the fair...

Dutchess County, New York, is covered in farms. They're everywhere. The last fair I went to was the then-Del Mar Fair (apparently it's now called the San Diego County Fair, but that just sounds wrong to me), a pretty big one that seems to be dominated by vendor booths selling every product I've already glimpsed while flipping through shopping network channels. Although I half-thought the Dutchess County fair would be quaint, with a plethora of bunnies, I really didn't know what to expect from tonight's venture.

By way of comparison:
Del Mar Fair, from flickr.com's teamtauni (I forgot how to embed the credit, oh well).


Dutchess County Fair, from flickr.com's jeanphony.


It was a little quaint, but I'll take a plethora of bunnies over a plethora of ShopVacs any day.

More to the point, here's what I ate, with some help from B. There may have been some local fare among these. Note: I hadn't eaten anything between 9 p.m. Monday and getting to the fair at 4 p.m. Tuesday. I tried to prepare...

Started with kielbasa, potato and cheese pierogis (which, when eaten at a deli around the corner from my Bay Area elementary school, we pronounced as "piroshkis") from a stand whose awning blared "MILLIE'S." Three and sour cream for four bucks. Not bad, kinda gummy, but I was unfulfilled. Maybe I should have been more adventurous and tried the prune one.

But still hungry, so onto the chicken skewer. It was actually B's idea, but I ended up doing most of the eating. It was, again, okay. Yakitori-style chicken on a skewer. Not seasoned very much at all. Pretty basic.

Went on a couple of rides before having a corn dog. This was the culinary highlight of my trip to the Dutchess County Fair. Unfortunately, I couldn't handle the just-out-of-the-fryer, crispy-shelled, perfectly salted (and I don't even like salt) dog, dropping it about two-thirds of the way through. Also unfortunately for my taste buds, I'd given B's niece Riley a couple of bites. The girl had never tasted a corn dog before! So, glad she got to try a good one; sad I didn't devour the whole thing more quickly.

Then it was time for more serious fair fare. We found a spot at some picnic tables in the shade, and ventured out for more serious food. I came back with a pulled pork barbecue sandwich. It was basic, but awesome (but not as awesome as the corn dog). Meat, sauce, bun. Don't waste my time with accessories like pickles, you know? Other people had some weak-looking burgers, and fries that came in a cardboard bowl that looked like a dog food dish. Weird. (The fries actually weren't too bad.)

Had to drink something, too, you know? I'm a big fan of lime, so when I saw the "Lime Fizz" sign, it was, well, a sign. I guess the booth primarily purveyed lemonade, but we can get that anywhere, you know? Lime it was. The girl working grabbed a couple of limes, hacked them open, and juiced them. She poured the juice in a cup, squirted what I am pretty sure was simple syrup (sugar water), and added soda water. A few swirls of the straw, a sip - sublime. Get it? Sub-lime? Ahahaha, just kidding... (It would have been good with vodka, too. But that would likely have precluded going on any more rides.)

I think we headed out for more rides and a tour of the horticultural building. I saw a cow put its hoofs up on a teenage girl's shoulders and wasn't sure if it was some kind of stunt or something - I'm a city kid, remember? - but the look of terror on her face let me know... Fortunately, someone moved the cow and all was well. The girl was probably happy to sell it for any price at the 4-H auction.

Then we had to get a shake. These shakes are legendary (I guess). Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. I was under the impression that they were something SPECTACULAR, like they workers shot the milk from a cow's udder into a cup, into which fell some kind of magical glittery ice cream and then with the first sip, we have world peace, and a unicorn is born right in front of you (maybe in the barn where the cow was mounting the girl), and there's no wait when leaving the parking lot post-fair. I got a strawberry one. It was - okay. The proceeds benefit the local 4-H, I think. (I just spent way too long looking at the fair's Web site and still couldn't find the info.) Good for them.

After walking around even more, we stopped for fried dough. It tastes better than it sounds. Kind of funnel cake-y, covered in confectioner's sugar - be careful not to inhale. I only had a few bites, as I was busy trying to cool my coffee down by alternately spilling it and blowing on it. Plus, I wanted to save what little room was left for a cream puff.

A cream puff? Yep. I'd been waiting alllll summer long for this cream puff, the favorite carny food of the fair's new director, which he'd raved about in the Hudson Valley Table magazine. I bought one; the chocolate syrup surprised me. It was kinda heavy. Maybe I'd been thinking about something more like a popover? Fluffier, you know?

But it was cool. B and I sat at a picnic table next to a radio booth that was blasting cheesy hair metal. We gave the popover our most valiant effort (I wondered why they gave us a knife - it was kinda tough). Then we called it a night and waddledheaded to the car. Naturally, I finished the cream puff on the way home. I had to - I waited all summer for that and I'll be damned if I wasn't going to finish it!

Now, if only we'd taken pictures...