It's Only Fair
The Friday Newsletter is throwing its own state fair, and making some really dumb food in the process
I love the state fair.
It’s not just a matter of preference. I’d argue that we need the state fair, if for no other reason than that August is a month in desperate need of a holiday—a weird, restless spot on the calendar when summer has started to rot but the cooling breeze of fall still seems far away. Despite my many impassioned letters, the federal government has shown no interest in declaring an August holiday for “resting from our agonies”.
Into this void, individual states come bearing comfort and mercy.
This comfort arrives in the form of massive agricultural expos-turned-carnivals: gleeful mishmashes of amusement-park rides, animal husbandry, where-are-they-now live music performances, and—of greatest importance to me—absolutely deranged food. Just as August starts to curdle, reports start rolling in from Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and beyond of culinary delights beyond one’s wildest imagination—or perhaps within one’s imagination so long as you imagine that any and every food can and should be deep-fried prior to consumption.
I love it. I love stunt food, and that should be no surprise to anyone who’s spent any amount of time reading this newsletter.
Each summer that The Action Cookbook Newsletter has existed so far, I’ve rolled out a new recipe in loving homage to the cuisine of the state fair—my answer to the Deep-Fried Ranch Dressings, Bacon Cheeseburger Egg Rolls and other miracles of the midway.
This year, I’ve come to a realization.
The traditional state fair may represent well for states with a defined center like Iowa or Minnesota, but they leave something wanting in states that have multiple distinct regions—cities that stand apart from a single statewide culture.
I’m speaking, of course, of The Unquantifiable Cities of America.
In the essay linked above, I express my particular fondness for America’s interior river cities—places like Pittsburgh, Cincinnati and St. Louis. These are places that defy easy categorization, places that have unique and at-times controversial culinary legacies shaped by their region-straddling river-city origins.
These are places that, in my mind, no good, clean, solid and unimpeachable case can be made for their inclusion in any of the traditionally-defined regions. They are each a little bit of a few things, but at the same time fundamentally lacking in something that would earn them full entry to one region or another. Each has a strong personal identity, one that sets it apart from would-be brethren even within its own state. They have their own culture, their own cuisine, their own dialect and their own sense of civilization.
They are weird, iconoclastic, undefinable places, and in this sense they are also America’s greatest cities.
Don’t these places deserve a fair that represents them?
More to the point, don’t they deserve a bonkers, state-fair-style recipe all their own?
Friends, I’m here to give that to them.
It’s Friday once again at The Action Cookbook Newsletter.
This is a special Friday here; today marks the 750th edition of the ACBN, and I can’t let a round number pass without paying tribute the only way I know how: cooking something absolutely ridiculous for your entertainment and edification.
That’s not all I have today—I’ve also got a drink that’s to-die-for decadent, some music from the state fair mainstage, a delightful book, and more!
Let’s make this a fair to remember, friends.
Tremble at the culinary power of the River Cities united.
If you know anything about me and my culinary predilections, you’re probably already concerned about what I’m going to reveal here today.
I want to be clear: You are right to worry.
I was really in my bag with this one. I’ve noted this here before, but my recipes here fall into three distinct categories:
Things you’ll want to make at home.
Things you probably won’t want to make at home, but would be happy to eat if I served them to you.
Things you’re just glad I did for the sake of entertainment.
This is absolutely a #3 scenario. Acknowledging that, I’m not going to bother transcribing this as a traditional recipe—I know you’re not going to make this.
This is a story today.
In conceiving a fair food for the River Cities, I thought about iconic foods from these places.
St. Louis? Why, they’ve got Toasted Ravioli—those are deep-fried, that’s right in the fair food wheelhouse.
Pittsburgh? Polish sausage and pierogies—nothing not to love there.
And Cincinnati? Well, you know a Skyline Coney Dog is a winner in my book.
I thought about all of the ways I could combine these things. Maybe a Cincinnati Chili-filled toasted ravioli? What about a Polish sausage Coney dog? Perhaps a pierogi-ravioli hybrid?
Or… what if I did all of these things… AND put them on a stick???
Even Olaf was concerned by the maniacal glint in my eye.
(You may need to open this email in a browser to follow along here, as I’ve included a bunch of progress pictures.)