It was clear that Baseball Boy and I were the lone tourists in Steubenville this past weekend, and between my camera and our erratic stop-and-go driving, we drew attention to ourselves. We found ourselves stopping frequently to look at an old building, a mural, and anything food related. We joked a bit about our “staycation” in the Ohio Valley, but truth be told, we were vacationing there, if even for a night.
Prior to this weekend, all of my trips to the Ohio Valley had been to see family. I grew up going to Steubenville and the surrounding areas several times a year – always on the agenda of the adult driving the car. To be honest, the place terrified me as a child, and I found everything there gray: the buildings, the temperament of the people, the sky and even the music on the radio. That, however, is not how my dad viewed his childhood home, the land of Big Red football, Dean Martin and excellent sledding hills.
Ironic that the more food-related things that I do, the less time that I have to write about food and relations. For example, this week, I saw (and hugged) a food celebrity, attended a conference promoting sustainable foods in Ohio and served (literally; I was the waitress) dinner for 30 people featuring the entire menu from Gourmet’s “Rural Pennsylvania Thanksgiving” menu. I’d say right here that I plan on writing about these experiences, but every time I promise something like that, it never happens.
At any rate, I have exciting news: Maya and I are both itinerant this weekend.
