Gotta Get Goetta

Created on Monday, 18 October 2010 01:12

Published on Tuesday, 19 October 2010 12:00

Written by Randy Garbin

Rough Draft Roadtrip, Seventh Day

Try as I may, I could not seem to tune in WKRP. No matter, after another restless night in another cheap and tired motel, I had all but run out of steam to stretch this road trip any longer than necessary. I had already received permission from Mrs. Roadside to return on Sunday, but I saw little reason at this point to rent another room a mere six hours away from home, somewhere between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh.

I had the Queen City high on my list as a destination thanks to my general fascination with big northeastern industrial cities. Of all those I have visited between Chicago and Boston, I somehow managed to miss Cincinnati. Unfortunately, I would have almost no time to for any serious exploration.

The new plan: Have breakfast at Joe’s Diner in the Over-​the-​Rhine section of Cincy, meander along Route 22 about as far as Wilmington, Ohio, and then hop on the Interstate. Quick Google street view seemed to confirm what I suspected anyway. Route 22 between Wilmington and Cambridge would have a whole lot of nothing anyway. Fine. Correct me if I’m wrong. I’m sure I missed something by bypassing, but so be it. I did hop off to drive through Zanesville and Cambridge, and came up pretty empty. Both towns looked sad, beaten, and bypassed.

Joe’s Diner, however, was a revelation. I hadn’t stopped in too many true diners on this trip. I was well outside of diner country anyway, but Joe’s couldn’t have given me a better launching point for a very long trip.

The Mountain View diner has changed very little since its construction. Previous owners have replaced some Formica and made a few other minor cosmetic changes, but this place reaffirmed my faith in humanity.

On a beautiful Saturday morning, I didn’t find much sidewalk activity in the neighborhood. The diner itself had only about a dozen or so other customers when I entered, but the staff gave me a very warm greeting and seemed eager to chat.

My waitress, Dorothy, proved to be a good source of information about the diner and the surrounding neighborhood. From her I learned that the Over-​the-​Rhine neighborhood suffered greatly nine years ago when a race riot erupted as a result of repeated police abuses that took place between 1995 and 2001. Several buildings burned to the ground as a result of arson, which compelled many of the businesses that made up a reviving entertainment district to move across the river to Newport, Kentucky.

The diner, though undamaged, suffered as well through a series of owners. Nine years later, things seem to have calmed down and Julian Rogers made the leap just last summer to give the place new life. So far so good. I had the banana pancakes and something called goetta (pronounced “ghetta”). According to Wikipedia, “all goetta is based around ground meat combined with pin head or steel cut oats. Usually goetta is made from pork shoulder or ‘Cali’, but occasionally contains equal parts pork and beef. Goetta is typically flavored with bay leaves, rosemary, salt, pepper, and thyme. It contains onions and sometimes other vegetables.” And it’s very good.

When Dorothy described it to me, I immediately thought of scrapple, and I do not like scrapple. Anyone’s scrapple, thank you. And thankfully, this tasted much better than scrapple. Different in texture and taste, I’d happily add goetta to my breakfast meat rotation that now includes bacon, ham, corned beef hash, and pork roll. Sadly, it’ll cost $90 to buy and ship some out to me. I’d rather make the ten-​hour drive out to Cincinnati.

Next time, I’ll get it with eggs and not the wonderful, fluffy, and not-​too-​thick banana pancakes that I ordered. These reminded me of those my mother used to make on a cast iron skillet, unevenly browned and a little crispy around the edges. For me, just short of perfection, improved only by the addition of some real maple syrup.

Looking at the map, I had Route 22 just a few blocks away, so I attached my car to it, and headed east. As previously mentioned, I’d get to Wilmington and hop the interstate, but thankfully I checked the Diner Finder and found Nancy’s Little Giant Diner, a Valentine that needs a new home and/​or purpose, according to Michael Engle. Currently, it sits at the back of a small memorial park dedicated to local businessman David Adair. Except for the fact that it’s missing all its interior save for a counter, it’s in perfect shape! Aside from the diner, Wilmington looked rather prosperous, a stark contrast from the few other towns I side-​tripped through.

This trip came to an end at 10:15, Saturday night, just in time to listen to the Phillies lose the first game of the pennant series. Though up well past her bedtime, nothing looked more welcoming to me than the sight of my daughter looking for a little hug and kiss.

I live for the road trip. I don’t do it enough. When I’m out there, I wonder if I can possibly absorb enough of what I see. I wonder what I’ll remember. I also wonder if I’ll ever return to see these places again. The landscape, though scarred terribly by mindless development and cancerous sprawl, still offers much splendor and variety. Will it be there for my daughter to enjoy, I don’t know, but if we all develop a better understanding of the lay of the land, we’ll have a fighting chance to experience that renaissance I keep harping about and hoping for.

Hope you enjoyed the ride. Thanks for coming along.