My New Favorite Place: Grandpa's Cheesebarn

My New Favorite Place: Grandpa's Cheesebarn

Sunday, March 1, 2015

1 comment

There's not much to see on the highway drive from Akron to Columbus. Both of those places are real places, I swear, but there's nottt a whole lot in between them. It's exactly as you imagine Ohio to be (though I spend much of my life convincing myself exactly the opposite about the rest of the state). It's cornfields, mostly, & farmhouses, & a big outlet mall, &... that's kind of it.

Except for Grandpa's Cheesebarn.

There are signs for Grandpa's Cheesebarn starting miles & miles before you get anywhere near Grandpa's Cheesebarn. It's sort of legendary, even amongst people who have never been there - perhaps especially amongst people who have never been there. If you mention Grandpa's Cheesebarn to anyone from the northern half of Ohio, the conversation is the same: "Oh my gosh,  I've always want to go there! I always see the signs, but I've never been."

On a recent drive back from my mom's hometown, Lima - yes, the one from Glee - we decided the time had come. When we reached Ashland, OH, we turned off the highway & down the winding road that leads to Grandpa's Cheesebarn, my excitement building in a display of fairly bizarre & totally uncharacteristic enthusiasm. And then we were there:

Don't worry, there was nobody inside that mouse. I think.

Anyway, I don't know how to begin to describe to you the glory that is Grandpa's Cheesebarn. I guess I expected it to be sort of lame, a podunk letdown after all those miles of signage. I figured it would be small & weird & disappointing.

I was so wrong.

OK, actually, at first, I was a little let down. The downstairs is surprisingly void of cheese, save for this fantastic & massive cooler full of more than a dozen varieties of vacuum-sealed cheesecurds:

But I thought to myself, "This place has 'cheesebarn' in the name. Do you mean to tell me that this is all they've got?!"

And then I realized: There are two floors.

I planned to take photos of the upstairs of Grandpa's Cheesebarn, but I got distracted by eating, well, everything. They offer samples of nearly every kind of cheese they sell, which means you can take baby steps around the entire store, pausing every half a foot to inhale cheddar & havarti & muenster & colby & Limburger & cheddar - &, like, 12 varieties of each. Any cheese you've ever imagined, Grandpa's Cheesebarn probably sells. I checked their website to try to figure out exactly how many, but it doesn't say; my guess would be well over 100.

And if cheese isn't your jam, I don't want to know you they have tons of others stuff, too: jellies & jams, homemade jerky, dried fruit, pickled vegetables, flavored popcorn, loose-leaf teas... The list goes on & on, just like my excitement. You can try those things, too. In fact, you could eat a a whole meal at Grandpa's Cheesebarn, made entirely of tiny samples. I think I did, actually.

What I'm trying to say here is that Grandpa's Cheesebarn is basically the best place in the world. It's a palace. A palace of cheese. We arrived an hour before they closed, & it was not enough time for me to take in its full glory, so I'm already planning a trip back - not a trip where I pass it on the side of the highway & think of it as an add-on destination, but a trip where it is the entire destination.

Soooo who wants to visit me in Ohio? Surely I've convinced you by now that I don't live in the sticks, right?

...right?

Shit.

Whatever, I don't need friends. I've got cheese.

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Redneck Disney World

Redneck Disney World

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

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At the southernmost tip of the great state of Maine lies a magical place known as the Kittery Trading Post. When you Google this mythical land, the subcategories that show up include "shooting accessories, "ammunition & magazines," "hunting clothing & footwear" & "archery," which should give you a feel for where this is going.

This moose greets you at the entrance. Similar moose greet you at the other entrances - because this place is freaking huge, multiple suburban blocks long & three floors high, so as far as I can tell, there are approximately a bazillion ways to get in. I once asked an employee for directions out & when I said, "I came in near the big moose," she asked, "Which one?" But lest you think this cadre of moose complete the KTP's taxidermied troops...

Would a zoom help? And maybe some big red circles to help you identify each dead animal? OK, here you go:

Yeah, I don't even know what some of those are. Is that a mountain goat? And that's just one wall! Kittery Trading Post is a veritable Where's Waldo of formerly living forest creatures.

But if formerly living forest creatures are too creepy for you - though I can't see why they would be - KTP also sells the cuddly creatures featured below. This is also a great way to prepare small children to their futures as expert marksmen.

The Foursquare reviews of the Kittery Trading Post are largely positive &, I assume, largely written by hunters & archers. I think I'm on Scott K.'s side:

But three floors is room for a lot of crap, which I have taken great pains to thoroughly explore. KTP specializes in actual hardcore outdoorsy gear, with the second floor almost entirely devoted to camping gear, kayaking equipment & the like. Because I am one of life's least outdoorsy individuals, I have yet to explore this area, but I have put lots of effort into checking out KTP's many tchotchkes, which is Yiddish for "crap that accumulates dust on shelves." If there's one thing I like, it's tchotchkes. Here's a smattering of some of my favorites:

At KTP, it also becomes obvious that these Mainers really embrace their Northeast roots. Just about everything in the store screams, "ALL WE HAVE IN THIS STATE IS MOOSE & LOBSTER & TOTAL WILDERNESS!"

But KTP is more than just a souvenir haven for Maine-bound tourists! It also sells items of great practical use. For example, if you're a lady cowhand in search of a new pair of overalls to wear while mucking in animal dung all day, KTP has just the section for you:

And you'll need shoes for all that dung-steppin', so don't forget to stop by KTP's shoe section*, where you can go hog-wild over the latest style of Dingos. Next wall over: UGGs. I kid you not.

If you fancy yourself a homemaker who values locally sourced foods, you'll love KTP's fascinatingly excessive selection of jellies & jams, stocked with everything from classic Strawberry Jam to the naughtier Spiced Rum Butterscotch Sauce to savory choices like Roasted Garlic Onion jam.**

And if you've got an unsightly hitch on the back o' yer truck, KTP can help you cover it up... with even more sightly plastic hitch covers in the shapes of feathered & furry friends! Turkeys, for example. And coyotes, but you have to pronounce it "KI-yotes," please, like the locals. And, um, buoys, for all you animal-haters out there who still want to cover your hitches in style. God, I've never used the word "style" so liberally in my life.

 

If you want to know the truth, I'm mildly obsessed with the Kittery Trading Post. OBVIOUSLY. It really is like redneck Disney World, but without the princesses & excessive branding. It's the Country Bear Jamboree come to life! At least they own it:

And in case, at the end of your visit, you're feeling overwhelmed by the dirty sin of consumerism, just stop by the bathroom on your way out, where your friendly local evangelicals have left reminders for you of Jesus's love. Atop the soap dispenser.

*Full disclosure: I bought a pair of discounted Sperry Topsiders here.
**Let's face it, this shiz is delicious; I can't bring myself to hate.

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Live Free or Die (And Other New England Oddities)

Live Free or Die (And Other New England Oddities)

Friday, April 22, 2011

30 comments

I've been keeping a running mental list that I thought it was time to put to paper blog. I like to call it "Reasons Why New England is Really Freaking Weird."

1. When you order from a Starbucks, the barista asks if it's "for here or to take away." This seriously happens at nearly all coffee shops, as far as I can tell, & it isn't limited to one or two employees. I'd like to note that "to go" is a full two syllables shorter. And also way more normal.
   
   
2. Billboards are illegal in Maine. Don't get me wrong, I'm no slave to the advertiser, but... dude, illegal? Not just... regulated, or something? It seems Maine is quite insistent on reminding you that they really are stuck in times past.
   
   
3. New Hampshire's state motto is "Live free or die." While I'm told this is an abbreviated version of Patrick Henry's famous "Give me liberty or give me death," I find it to also be the tackier, more hillbilly version, perhaps because the license plates that bear it are so often attached to cars bearing gun racks & Truck Nuts.
   
   
4. The accents, you guys. OH, GOD, THE ACCENTS. I know I've said it before, but I have a new observation: It seems particularly cruel/questionable that the MBTA named its quick-fare card the CharlieCard, as both of these words exemplify the best/worst (depending on your perspective) of Boston-area accents. Say it out loud. Yeah, I told you so.
   
   
5. I live down the road from a place called Carl's Meat Market. And really, I think this point stands alone.
   
   
6. The art of taxidermy is alive & well here. I swear a full post is coming on the bizarre glory that is the Kittery Trading Post, but for now, this picture should give you a feel for what that post will entail:
   
   
   
7. My Congressional Representative sucks. I was so happy living in BettySuttonLand, a bastion of longtime allegiance to the Democratic party. I could count on the reliably progressive Rep. Sutton to regularly vote in alignment with my decidedly liberal views. But now? Now I get Rep. Frank Guinta, a virulent anti-choicer who supports extending Bush-era tax cuts & the U.S. pulling out on the United Nations. Oh, hey, crazy.
   
   
8. Everyone is a terrible driver. Yes, everyone. But no, not me. Like today: I drove past a parked car whose driver decided to pull out right then but lay on the horn at me for having the audacity to, like, be driving. And then she followed me & gave me the finger for a good 15 seconds. I repeat: Oh, hey, crazy.

I wanted to come up with 10, but these eight feel pretty solid. Plus, I plan to do a "Things That Don't Necessarily Suck About New England" post sometime in the near future, too, & God knows I won't be able to come up with 10 for that one, so I'll keep it fair & balanced. I am the Fox News of blogging, I know.

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