My recent trip to Chicago with the North Iowa Bloggers commemorated my sixth visit to the city. Visiting Chicago always makes me think of a May Term course I enrolled in during my sophomore year at Wartburg College that focused on Jewish history and culture. Unlike real life, students at Wartburg got to choose one intensive course to take during the month of May. Due to their laid back nature and travel opportunities, May term courses often had a reputation for being fun. On-campus courses often lasted for half a day which left students plenty of time to enjoy the sunshine or party.
This particular class was taught by a woman named Vicki who converted to Judaism upon marriage. Of all of the classes I took at Wartburg, this was one of my most favorites. I have fond memories of Dr. Vicki teaching us how to bake hamantaschen and cook latkes in her home. No shortcuts were taken. We pulverized whole dates in her blender and grated potatoes by hand. Afterwards, we built a Sukkot in her back yard.
Another highlight of the trip was traveling to Chicago. We visited a holocaust museum, temples, homes, schools, and a kosher bagel bakery where we met the Rabbi who oversaw the operation. At many of these places, people shared challah with us. I was fascinated with this glossy, braided bread that I had never tasted it before and still have yet to find challah as good as what I remember.
Closer to graduation, Dr. Vicki facilitated a small Seder meal celebration in our living room and shared the most delicious beef brisket. This brisket was so tender, silky and flavorful that my former roommate who I had never witnessed eating red meat in all four years enjoyed a serving. Years later, I find myself longing for a taste of this beef brisket. Fortunately, I saved an email from Dr. Vicki that includes the brisket recipe and rejoiced upon its retrieval. She is gracious enough to allow me to share this recipe on my blog.
Papa Lewis’s World Famous Brisket
Courtesy of Dr. Vicki Edelnant who adapted Elyse and Randy Frapart’s recipe
Ingredients
4.5-6 lb trimmed brisket
Olive oil
Fresh cracked black pepper and sea salt
1 head of minced garlic
1 onion
Honey
Ketchup
3 Bay leaves
1 packet of Lipton onion soup mix
1. Place a 4 1/2 – 6 lbs trimmed brisket in a large frying pan with a small amount of olive oil. Sear the brisket all over. It should take at least 20 minutes. The more you sear the better it is.
2. Now place the brisket in a large Pyrex dish with the fat side up. Salt and pepper all over. Be generous with both. Next press another generous amount of garlic all over the top, bottom and inside. The hardest part is done.
3. Now with the fat side up spread a thin coat of honey, then a thin coat of tomato ketchup.
4. Next place 3 bay leaves.
5. Then sprinkle 1 package of Lipton onion soup mix and the next-to-last ingredient that goes on the brisket is to finely cut up an onion and place on top about 1/4 inch thick.
6. Lastly pour about 1/2 of inch dry red wine in the dish. Tightly cover with heavy-duty aluminum foil.
7. Place into 350 degree on bake for 1 1/2 hour, then reduce the heat to 300 for another 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Total cooking time of 4 – 4 1/2 hours. Scrape the ingredients off the top of the brisket in to the liquid. This is your gravy. Slice on cutting board.
I am not an auctioneer, but I went to auction school and auction school is hard.
Living in three different states in three years brings joys and challenges. Moving is emotionally and physically draining, but it’s also introduced me to industries about which I knew very little, such as agriculture and auctioneering.
Mason City is actually the home to one of the top auctioneer training programs in the world and this still comes as a surprise to many North Iowans. I recently started helping out in the office at the World Wide College of Auctioneering. My first weeks corresponded with their winter class session, so I found myself attending class and gaining an intensive crash course into the world of auctioneering.
Before class, I had never attended an auction, so I made sure to find one before my first day. The only auction I could find that week was a hay auction. I stood quietly in the back of the gravel lot with my arms pressed tightly to my sides, being careful not to sneeze, lest I accidentally came home with a truckload of hay. Fortunately, this was not the case and the auction was more relaxed than I expected. I’ve learned a lot since then and continue to be fascinated with this occupation.
Please note that the auction school in no way asked me to write a blog post about auctioneering or suggested the idea. I actually approached them about writing the post because I just find it really interesting! Here are ten of the most memorable things I learned in auction school.
1. Auctioneers are funny.
Almost every auctioneer I spoke with made me laugh. I observed how many of them had the ability to seamlessly weave jokes and stories into the most ordinary conversation.
2. Auctioneers don’t just call out numbers.
One reason why many auctioneeres are so funny is because they are show people. I had assumed their main role was to call out numbers and learned this is not the case. Auctioneers represent the seller and aim to obtain the highest prices for the items they sell. Although the format of auctioneering is a more public type of selling than we see on a day-to-day basis, they have to be effective salespeople. Charisma, a sense of humor, and ability to read others go a long way.
In addition to encouraging people to buy, auctioneers also have to know a lot about the product they are selling, whether it’s classic cars or farm land. The auctioneer must also understand auction law and those that govern their specific subsection. For example, laws vary by state regarding sales of real estate and fire arms. In Iowa, an auctioneer who sells real state doesn’t need to have a real estate license, while he or she would in Minnesota. In other states, an auctioneer without a real estate license may be allowed to conduct the auction sale, but is not allowed to market the property or facilitate open houses.
3. Bid calling is hard.
The auctioneer’s trademark chant is as hard as it looks. I giggled when I saw this Geico commercial portraying a cashier auctioning a grocery item. His bid call was on point. I had the inkling that this individual wasn’t just a Hollywood actor, but a real auctioneer and I was right. Joseph Mast actually won an International Championship.
The best auctioneers worked hard to sound the way that they do, and they never stop working to improve. To begin developing that bid chant, auctioneers recite tongue twisters, study recordings of championship auctioneers and practice, practice, practice.
4. There are different bid calls for different categories of sales.
Bid calls vary depending on what’s for sale. An auctioneer will use a different style of bid call to raise money for a charity at a fancy benefit than a cattle auction. More attendees who are less experienced auction-goers buy at charities and real estate sale auctions so the auctioneer may speak slower. A cattle or car auctioneer will speak faster and use more filler words. Afterall, auctioneers selling cattle or cars may have to move a massive amount of product in one day, so talking quickly helps them sell more efficiently.
Shane Ratliff instructed at the last bid calling seminar.
5. The field of auctioneering continues to diversify.
More and more minorities and women are entering the auctioneering field. The bilingual Spanish-English auctioneering certification is very popular at the school I work for.
6. The fastest growing sectors of auctioneering don’t reflect reality TV. Despite the reality television show Storage Warsand broadcasting of Barrett-Jackson car auctions on the Discovery Channel, the fastest growing sector of auctioneering is actually benefit auctions. Nonprofits hire professional auctioneers to raise money for their cause. Good benefit auctioneers are strategic and provide pre and post benefit auction planning and analysis. There’s actually a Benefit Auctioneer Specialist accreditation. Other quickly growing sectors include real estate and heavy equipment.
7. If you want to see an auctioneer’s eyes light up, mention Barrett-Jackson. With fast cars, celebrity buyers, and warm Arizona weather, Barrett-Jackson is like Hollywood. Opportunities to work for Barrett Jackson are considered coveted positions within the industry. This company’s classic car auctions in Scottsdale, Arizona attract celebrities and are broadcast on major television networks. Those who land a job here are often championship auctioneers who are highly regarded within the community. Of course, many auctioneers find equal success through other avenues, but it’s hard to deny the appeal of selling rare cars to celebrities.
8. Many talented auctioneers come from Amish and Mennonite communities. I was very surprised to learn so many Amish and Mennonite students attend auction school. The Amish and Mennonite students I’ve observed have bid calls that blow most everyone out of the water. One instructor explained how Amish and Mennonite communities used to hire him to facilitate auctions. Now, they are sending representatives to school to serve as auctioneers in their own communities.
Exact rules governing technology usage depends on the community. Students from Amish communities often travel long distances by taxi to attend class. Some Amish students use email and cell phones to build their auction businesses, but prefer not to have their photo taken. These communities regard Auctioneering as an acceptable career students demonstrate a lot of dedication to the craft of bid calling. Farming and crafts still play a large role in Amish and Mennonite communities, meaning auctioneers are needed to manage livestock and quilt auctions.
9. People of all ages enroll in auction school. At this particular school, students have enrolled as young as ten and as old as 80+. Some students are multi-generational auctioneers who knew they want to pursue this career at an early age and work in their family business. Others attend so they can start a new career.
10. Auction school is intense. Auction school may be the most challenging experience I’ve ever had, and I wasn’t even a student. Auction class sessions vary among schools, but many follow a similar format: Class is held at a hotel outfitted with convention space where students attend class for five to eight long days. Students spend a lot of time developing their bid call and also study auction law, benefit auctions, real estate, clerking, vocal care, and marketing. At the end of the long week, students in this particular school sell three items at a public auction open to the community and take written and oral exams.
Thanks for joining me in this brief detour from my typical topic of food. I love sharing the most interesting parts of my life with my readers! What do you know about auctioneering?
We’re a little stir crazy, so we decided to taste test retro food products.
I want to complain about the snow, but also feel pride that this weather makes us tougher. When 20 degrees rolls around, I’ll be gleefully running errands without a hat while people in warmer states will shiver at the thought.
Yesterday read -6 with a doomsday windchill. The snowflakes remind me of the fake snow found in department store displays. It’s so light and fluffy that the winds whip it into white outs. Our little dog is stir crazy, too. Yesterday, I asked him if he wanted to head outside and go to the bathroom.
Well, OK then. I suppose I wouldn’t want to either.
How does one fend off cabin fever during a week when school’s cancelled due to the cold? Taste test wacky retro products, of course. For this project, I visited Fareway‘s meat counter and Martin Bros. Food Market in Mason City, Iowa. I appreciate how the butchers at Fareway treat every product with the same dignity, from ribeye steaks to processed Mr. Rib patties. They carefully measure each item and wrap them tidy little packages with brown paper.
Martin Brothers sells bulk foods and party supplies. You’ll find items like big bags of vegetables and every fried appetizer you could possibly imagine in their coolers.
I selected four items that harkened back to my grade school cafeteria days: Pizza Patties, BBQ Rib Patties, and Chicken Crispitos from Fareway and Mexican Pizzas from Martin Bros.
Pizza Patty: I fondly remember “Pizza Burgers” from grade school. Of course, that was over two decades ago, but, then again, I still like corn dogs so there’s that. I remember our Pizza Burgers looking a lot different from this patty, but wanted to try it anyway. Think of the pizza patty as the center of a butcher wrap blossom. $1.66/each
Meet the Crispito. Back when I wrote a post about school cafeteria memories, I noticed a funny thing. Minnesotans raved about Italian Dunker Day while Iowans fondly remembered Crispitos. I bought two of the chicken variety. Price $1 each
Hello there BBQ Rib Patty. Why our school never called this Mrs. Rib, I don’t know, but I won’t fight the gentlemen for this honor. You’ve got to appreciate the artistry that went into creating the pressed and formed rib shape complete with three rib nubs and painted on grill marks. I can only compare this product to my grade school memories, for I have never eaten a McRib. $1.25 each
And finally, who remembers Mexican Pizzas? Our elementary school offered pizza once a week and always listed them as “Tony’s Pizza.” Pizza day was special because we could choose from big rectangles of cheese, pepperoni or sausage pizza or this hexagonal oddity, the Fiestada.
I was surprised to find bags of Fiestadas at Martin Bros. In fact, they carried bags of the other pizza rectangles, too. I did some research and home and read Martin Bros. sources this Mexican Pizza from Schwan’s who sources them from Tony’s (or something like that), meaning they’re the closest I’ll get to the real deal. $0.83 each
I baked the products at 375℉ until pizza was bubbly and the Crispito was, well, crispy.
Taste Testing Verdict: Drumroll. . .
Pizza Patty: A reader mentioned this product is best fried. It crisped in the oven and oozed cheese. Long story short, this wasn’t our thing because we didn’t enjoy the strong sausage flavor. There’s a lonely Pizza Patty, whom I shall call Patty, chilling in our fridge. Any takers?
Mr. Rib: This was our favorite item. Baking the patty gave it a firmer texture while the sauce formed a glaze. We split the patty in half and them in small buns with dill pickle chips. Jake commented Fareway’s tastes better than the McRib. It’s so naughty-good we’re going to eat the second Mr. Rib. Sorry if you’ve gotten attached to him Miss Pizza Patty.
Crispito: When I first pulled the tubular Crispito from its wrapping, I knew my main goal was to make it crisp. Afterall, it is a Crispito, right? What appeared to be a corn tortilla shell did, in fact, crisp up in the oven. I have no idea what comprises the filling, but it tastes similar to the El Monterey Taquitos my mom used to purchase. Jake and I dipped each half into salsa and concluded the product tasted pretty good. If you like Taquitos, there’s really nothing objectionable about this. Jake still prefers Taquitos, but I prefer Crispitos.
*Some friends added Fareway’s Crispitos taste closest to the ones served in their school cafeterias while others nominated Martin Bros‘s.
Mexican Pizza/Fiestada: This hexagonal wonder still tastes like it did in grade school.
The only difference is the crust seems puffier. According to Schwan’s website, the crust contains 51% whole grains (not just 50%, but 51% lol) which lends a heartier texture.
“It tastes good. No wonder it’s still around,” observed Jake. While we want to space out our Fiestada consumption, we won’t cry over the five left in our freezer.
And this concludes my foray into revisiting school cafeteria foods. Is there a specific food you’d like to revisit or leave in the past?
One reader wasn’t a fan. He tagged me in a tweet accusing me of longing for a naive, Lisa Frank version of the 90’s, when, in fact, it should have been the “sleazy and politically incorrect” one. The reality is that I turned six in 1990. How sleazy should my 90’s experience have been? For many girls between the ages of six and 15, the 90’s actually was a cloudy haze of technicolor Lisa Frank school supplies and Little Mermaid songs.
Jennifer Hill, Age 6
In the 90’s I was six and now I find myself thirty, which feels strange. I’m vainly comforted by the fact that I still haven’t found a gray hair. There’s one near my forehead that’s gone translucent. It may be devoid of color, but I guess it’s still not technically gray.
Thirty feels like we should start a family. I assumed it would just happen and so far it hasn’t, or at least, not as easily as I had assumed. Every once in a while I dream about a little, browned haired girl and wake up knowing she’s mine. We struggle with the whole feeling of urgency to start a family and the reality that we’d probably freak out if it actually happened.
Thirty means I keep starting sentences with “Back in my day. . .” and feeling grumpy about things that never bothered me before. For example, I watched the American Music Awards and couldn’t stop staring at One Direction. The tween girls swooned while I felt maternal concern. Does the guy in the shiny jacket need a comb and why do they look like they’re from the future? Why am I still thinking about this?
Yesterday, I wandered into a Bath & Body Works for the first time in a decade and couldn’t find the Freesia. What the hell is this scent Mad About You and why should I care if it’s not the television show with Helen Hunt? I don’t understand why I want to smell like a Wasabi Apple and why is everything on clearance? This is not the store I remember.
My 90’s haze exemplified by a collage I maintained: JTT, Dawson’s Creek, Jelly Roll pens, Lois Duncan books, Lip Smackers, Gap clothes, smiley faces, Romeo & Juliet. . .
Our kids will never meet friends at Snoopy’s water bowl at the Mall of America and eat Knott’s Berry Farm chicken there. At the rate things are going, they’ll hear Adam Levine on the radio more often than we heard Robyn. I don’t want to live in a world where Adam Levine’s song “Animals” continues to appear on national top ten lists. Bringing back Robyn is how you can show me love.
Over Christmas I went through my old photos and noticed a curious thing. We always sat around a big, rectangular Bigfoot Pizza from Pizza Hut. We looked pretty happy so it must have tasted good and so it should probably come back.
I hope real love letters never die. Most of my handwritten love letters went unrequited and I regret nothing. Before email and before texts, we actually wrote love letters on real paper.
Do you love me, do you wanna be my friend? And if you do Well then don’t be afraid to take me by the hand If you want to I think this is how love goes, check yes or no -George Strait.
We wrote notes like this with check boxes and everything and then we stuffed them into locker slots or asked a friend to deliver them.
I hope young people keep writing letters. One of my favorite memories from the 90’s includes scouring The Kid’s Address Book with a friend. We didn’t try to catch celebrities in phone selfies; we hand-wrote them letters for autographed photos and sent giant construction paper cards to Hanson. Tony the Tiger was the only one who wrote back. He wasn’t JTT or Rider Strong, but he sent an autographed photo and we so thought he was pretty greeeeat.
Amazon.com drones sound neat, but I hope malls can still be a thing. As kids we spent most of our free time outdoors, but sometimes we wanted to wander the mall.Some malls still hum, but many fade. I enjoyed the magical 90’s mall less as a place to buy things and more as a venue to stroll with people. We took family trips to the mall that ended with dinner at the food court. When my grandma and mom became ill, we’d pack up their wheelchairs and stroll the halls like old times. No matter how old I get, I never want to become too cool for the mall food court experience.
I hope our kids experience the glee that was the 90’s kid’s trip to the video store. A trip to the video store usually preceded special occasions like a family movie night or sleepover with friends. When we grew older, solo trips to the video store were rights of passages. It was the first place to which we could ride our bike without adult supervision and drive our car when we received our licenses. My folks enforced a strict “No Rated R” policy, so we watched movies like Scream and at someone else’s house (sorry parents!).
Video stores only carried a limited number of each new release. When your first was gone, it was gone and you just had to wait. I can now find answers and directions and distractions on my smart phone at all times. We scroll through movie options on Netflix and binge-watch entire series of television shows in the span of a weekend. I can skip commercials all together by DVRing cooking shows and sometimes I fear that I forgot how to wait.
Buzzfeed publishes lots of great 90’s lists that hit me right in the gut, but it’s also a photo-stealing monster. And no, I do not “weep for the children of today” even though the closest they might ever get to our 90’s is a 90’s-themed school dance or our tattered copies of Goosebumps books. Frankly, that’s OK because life is change and change is life.
Nevertheless, may our children have lots of reasons to laugh and people who love them. May they still play outside, build forts in the woods, and find glee in whatever replaces the 90’s trip to the video store. Don’t get me wrong, I love being thirty, translucent hairs and all, but there’s a short window to dwell in that Lisa Frank haze and all of the time in the world to be an adult.
These were the words I uttered after the first round of trick-or-treaters left our doorstep.
One of the people in this party was dressed-up like an Asian. I handed his children candy while my jaw hung wide open, for I couldn’t stop staring at his conical Asian hat. Yeah. You know which type of hat I’m talking about. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me and I’m guessing he didn’t expect a real Asian to answer the door.
Only two more rounds of trick-or-treaters arrived, and, believe it or not, not a single child was dressed like Elsa. One little zombie in the last group asked me how many pieces of candy they each could take, and I replied “two.” One girl grabbed all six of my remaining Kit Kats and stared at me as she slowly transferred them to her trick or treat bag. The other kids decided to do the same and went in for the big grab.
“Woah, let’s each take two,” I reminded them. They wrinkled their noses. “Well, if you wanted us to only take two, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” the bold one asked.
“I did.”
They frowned and begrudgingly took their two pieces while I bit my tongue desperately wanting to ask, “And where the hell are your parents?”
As the kids ran into the minivan parked at the edge of my driveway, I declared trick-or-treating at our house officially over and turned off the front light. I had better things to do, like watch Roald Dahl’s The Witches and sip fancy gin. Eight o’clock quickly turned into Far North Solveig gin O’Clock.
We ate leftover chicken wings for dinner. The evening before, I had found a simple recipe for baked wings in my old, spiral bound Korean Cooking book published by the Korean Institute of Minnesota my parents bought during my years at Korean Culture Camp. The recipe contains ketchup, so it’s rather Koreanish.
Kind of like me.
I pondered all of this as I sipped my gin.
I was adopted by a Midwestern family with Scandinavian roots and grew-up in a community in which few people looked like me. Now that I live in a community where I also encounter few Asians, I think about my Asianess a lot. My Asianess used to be a source of embarrassment, but I become more and more intrigued with it as I grow in age and confidence. I love how Lefse tastes as much like home to me as pork bulgogi. I’m used to looks of surprise when I boast about my Swedish meatballs and I crave the stern, Korean grandmothering I receive while dining at Dong Yang.
For now and for me, Koreanish can be Korean enough.
By the way, I’m saving these fortune cookies for the next folks who trick-or-treat at our house in 2016 dressed-up like Asian people.
Koreanish Wings Adapted from the Korean Cooking book published by the Korean Institute of Minnesota, circa 1983. Chili sauce or gochujang could be substituted for ketchup or added to the sauce.
In a small bowl, combine the soy sauce, brown sugar, garlic, ginger, ketchup and rice wine vinegar.
Place chicken wings in a marinating-safe container or bag and add the marinade. Toss the wings so they are evenly coated. Allow to sit overnight or as many hours as possible. I marinated my wings for five hours.
Place wings in pan and bake at 350℉. Baste the wings with the sauce every once in a while.
If the sauce starts to burn on the bottom of the pan, remove the wings and continue baking them on a different pan. You can also baste them with a light coat of butter.
For extra caramelized wings, broil until the skin is as crispy as you’d like.
