A Foreigner’s Delight

Depending on who you ask, traveling can be an exhilarating or frightening proposition. As much as I travel, it may be surprising to hear that I do feel anxious when I’m in a new place; however, feelings of joy and discovery generally win out by a large margin. My fears surrounding traveling in new countries and cultures has less to do with safety and more about getting lost, missing planes, and simply being unintentionally ignorant. Regardless, I almost always feel happy, tired, and enlightened at the close of my first day in an unfamiliar place.

In a new country, I initially get a strong sense that I am at the mercy of that culture, which is why my first day or two will involve wide eyes and highly attuned ears. As the mix of anxiety and wonderment slip away, comprehension and a calmer sense of appreciation set in. If a trip only gives me 24 hours in an unfamiliar place, such a quick transformation can be tricky.

We found a more economical flight out of Toronto for our recent trip to Northern Europe, which meant Melissa and I got to spend a day there before flying to Iceland. We love to hunt for unique local food spots, which encouraged us to explore the quirky Parkdale neighborhood in West Toronto. (I should let it be known that my first priority in any foreign place is getting indigenous food; until it happens, I am completely distracted.) After some quick hunting (we did need to be on a plane in a few hours), we discovered a blogTO write up on a little Tibetan restaurant called Loga’s Corner.

Any Akron kid feels at home when they see a tire clock on the wall.

Driving up, the neighborhood looked like a mixture of Brooklyn (NY, not NE Ohio) and North Hill (NE Ohio, not NY). Apparently the area also goes by “Little Tibet,” which was quickly evident. After anxiously finding a parking spot (not really hard but remember, new place, limited time, low blood sugar), we found Loga’s eatery hidden a little behind the corner, but close enough that I think the name still applies.

Loga’s smelled of exotic but familiar spices and was quiet, save for the low chatter of children watching television in the corner. Charmingly decorated, it felt like we had walked into someone’s large living room. Perfectly fine, as it gave us time to look over the selection of momos tempting us from behind the glass.

Moments later, the gentle voiced Loga emerged from the kitchen and kindly guided us through the day’s selections. It took a moment, but apparently we were fairly early. Since they took up most of the menu, we got an order of momos which are typically steamed dumplings with a soupy inside. We also got butter tea which is exactly what it sounds like—spiced black tea with a little butter whisked in—which traditionally acts as not only a warming beverage, but a delicious lip protectant for those dealing with the extreme Tibetan chill, as Loga explained. We also ordered two $1 potato balls, which are like giant, Tibetan hush puppies but more of a proper entrée than the Carolina’s version of pre-meal bread. I (more so than Melissa) enjoyed the homemade, chunky hot sauce in the red squeeze bottles that sat on every table. Everything was delicious, my blood sugar was back up and I felt great.

Oh, but right, about that plane to Iceland.

We went up to pay but the credit card machine acted up… welcome back anxiety. We never bothered to get Canadian currency and suddenly were about to repay this Torontonian-Tibetan-refugee’s lovely food and service by being out-of-town lame-Os. All anxiety quickly vanished, however, as Loga gave us one final surprise.

Seeing we had no local money on hand, Loga quickly said, “oh, it’s fine,” and not to worry about it. “Maybe come back tomorrow or…it’s okay, no problem.” With a smile, he thanked us again for coming, apologized for the service being a bit slow, and basically told us our food was free. In that moment, Melissa and I no longer felt like foreigners or just customers, we were Loga’s guests.

We scurried to find an ATM just down the block and came back to pay our tab. We asked for a photo with Loga, and he was happy to oblige. Simple as that, a cool-looking and thoughtful guy from Tibet graciously made Parkdale Toronto feel like a little home-away-from-home.

Loga’s Corner is a simple, humble eatery; filled with delicious food and a warm heart. I walked away thinking we found a truly precious gem.

Is it me, or is Canadian money quite pretty?

The Sweet Art of Café

Whenever I travel, I have one order of business that must be taken care of before any other: I must experience local food. Upon arrival, I’ll probably be hungry and want to eat. Instead of going to a chain restaurant that will feel like any of its many locations around the world, I choose a locally owned eatery. These are the kinds of places where I would have a greater probability to experience the culture and people of a community just as they are—and that’s my goal.

I love to eat where I can also hang out, make five friends in five minutes, and stay as long or leave as quickly as I like. I love the vibrancy of life in a café. Sometimes a café skews more toward a coffee shop, or (even better) a bakery, but you’ll instantly learn more about where you are when you’re in one.

Take, for instance, the (fairly) new gem in downtown Akron: Sweet Mary’s Bakery. I’m known to seek out and frequent bakeries, and once I learned about Sweet Mary’s, I knew I had to visit. Within minutes of entering the place, I knew I was going to be a gold-card-carrying member of this locally-owned eatery. Here is a quick list of what stirred my senses and hooked me for good:

1. French lounge music. Frank Sinatra etc. playing at the perfect volume all the time.
2. Plenty of seating. Very clean with many options: window, bar and tables for groups (okay, there is a lot of orange, and I really like orange).
3. Very friendly staff who smile when you mention, “I am new here, what should I get?”
4. Delicious, hand-made, sweet and savory gems. Once you get an answer to the question in #3 of this list, there really is absolutely no question why this place is growing in popularity.
5. Great local coffee. 

Corinna will not only make you laugh while you order, but her art will make you smile as well. From a film reference on the specials board to the adorable animals on the giant chalk menu board, she really adds another layer of cute to the already lovely Sweet Mary’s.

Quiche, eclairs, sweet pies, savory hand pies, macarons, Norka soda—the list goes on. Beyond the sit down café, Sweet Mary’s also does custom cakes and special orders. You can also take home a small mountain of apples (I think they call it an apple pie). The variety is fairly impressive for a place of its size, even offering some options for those with dietary restrictions. The menu has regular items you’ll see each day, as well as a number of surprises. (Mary does a great job teasing any new treats on the Sweet Mary’s Instagram).

The staff is always laughing together, clearly loving what they do.

With all those sugary surprises luring in those Akronites who are in-the-know, it is rare that I don’t run into an old friend or acquaintance (or meet someone new) every time I go. This is perhaps the number one reason I love café culture. A café (or bakery) is a place where the community comes together, without an agenda—unless you count the agenda of stuffing your face with an eclair filled with scratch made pastry cream—but rather, just as a part of daily life… a life that is worth sharing with others.

This sentiment reflects what makes a public market so great. In many ways, it’s like a giant café, filled with people creating, eating, meeting, and passing each other with a smile all throughout the week.

Like any good market, Sweet Mary’s Bakery is a place that is bustling with what makes life better: the well-crafted and necessary simple things (or fancy, depending on how much piping is on your birthday cake).

Mary decorates a chocolate birthday cake.

-Cory (with photos by Melissa)

First A Pulitzer, Then A Farm, Then A Market

Last year my parents asked me if I’d like to join them on a tour of The Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio. Sure folks, let’s visit prison, sounds fun. Of course being a filmmaker, and from Ohio, it seemed rather appropriate that I see the nearby filming location of such a beloved cinematic gem as The Shawshank Redemption. Walking through the historical building, constructed in 1886, certainly presented a number of surprises, but the biggest revelation actually came while the family hunted down the film’s picturesque oak tree at a nearby farm.

I got a drink at a visitor center, the water pleasantly tasting of rural spring water. Signage notified me that the working farm operated as a state park. Visitors were scattered about the sprawling, contoured land, drawing my attention to the large farm house on a nearby hill. While taking a quiet walk across the grounds, a small plaque notified me that the farmhouse was the location of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall’s wedding.  Uhm… what?

Louis Bromfield with his boxer, Prince, at Malabar Farm in Lucas, Ohio

The farm was built in 1939 by Pulitzer Prize winning author Louis Bromfield, who was a good friend of Bogart, and as it turns out, was one heck of a farmer. After a string of best sellers and even writing for Hollywood, Bromfield revisited his first love: agriculture. When he returned to his childhood home in Pleasant Valley, Ohio, he grew fond of an old farm and eventually bought it from Clement Herring in 1938. Thus began the years of agriculture innovation in Lucas, Ohio. It was at Malabar Farm that Bromfield practiced a number of under-utilized progressive farming techniques and became a champion of conservation and a trend-setter for these lesser-known practices.

Last week I made my second trip to Malabar Farm, this time with Melissa. This would be my first trip that wasn’t because I was just looking for a drinking fountain after hunting down a famous tree…

Melissa and I decided to get lunch at the Malabar Farm Restaurant. Unsurprisingly, everything on the table came from the farm or nearby sources, and equally unsurprising, was incredibly delicious. After eating our fresh from-scratch pasta, local salmon (yes, locally farmed salmon) and complimentary strawberry still-from-the-oven shortcake (they are friendly to newcomers), we took a tour of the famous Bromfield farmhouse, known to those on the farm as “The Big House”.

Our guide told tales of this magical place where Hollywood collided with Ohio agriculture. The ten bedroom house saw family members, farmhands, cooks, suave managers and a number of dogs live, eat and share life for decades. Years after Bromfield passed away, the farm continued its mission of cultivating and balancing life as a state park which continues to pass on all that was learned, lived and loved to the community.

After posting a few photos online, my uncle Bill notified me of one final surprise. It turns out that my Grandfather Roy Davis, who was also an Ohio farmer, visited Malabar when Bromfield still operated the farm. I also discovered that my Grandmother had a copy of every book the famed American author and conservationist had ever written.

Grandpa Roy on the farm

I studied design in school; I never considered becoming a farmer. I found my Grandparent’s farm fascinating, although I never imagined doing it myself. However, now that I’m pursuing this dream of getting a public market downtown in Akron, perhaps for the first time, I’m staring to fully appreciate how valuable it was to see the cycle of food first hand, from the dirt to the table.

Louis Bromfield studied agriculture, but it took becoming an author before he was able to fully realize his dream of running a farm. A farm so great it attracted my Grandfather who took what he learned to add to his lifelong pursuit of growing food alongside, and in support of, his family.  So as I dream about this market, standing on the same ground where Louis Bromfield, and my Grandparents (and Bogart and Bacall) had once walked, I can almost hear them saying this is most certainly a dream worth pursuing.

-Cory

The Seemingly Mythical Chris Horne

Last night we had the pleasure of celebrating the first anniversary of The Devil Strip with many of the freelance writers, photographers, designers and illustrators that tell the story of Akron alongside publisher Chris Horne.

I knew eventually my path would cross with Chris’s, as it seems like I know a large percentage of people he writes about, works with and hangs around. I kept seeing this new guy show up in photos on my Facebook feed hanging out with friends from college, local artists and business leaders. But… who is this guy? Is he even from here? How is he so good at representing my city in his writing?

Several months after picking up my first copy of The Devil Strip, I ended up contacting Chris about an article he had written about my friend Tessa Reeves of Neighbors Apparel. My day job is working as a designer/photographer/etc./etc. for a large-volume magazine publication, and we were working on a piece about Tessa and looking for some additional leads.

When I couldn’t find an email contact, I sent Chris a direct message on Facebook outlining my questions about his article. It seemed oddly formal for a facebook interaction, but hey, that’s where the technology of 2016 has brought us. He responded in equally formal fashion (reflecting my tone, I’m now sure) and that was that. I was still very curious where this guy came from and what made him want to start a magazine about a city that he seemingly hardly knew…

Fast forward to last night, when we attended the anniversary party for The Devil Strip:

Now, this wouldn’t be my first time meeting Chris Horne. We had been briefly introduced several months before.

From what I remember, his semi-formal Facebook demeanor seemed to transfer to real life. I must say I was slightly disappointed. I’d heard that Chris was an engaging sort, the kind of guy who builds connections between people in an instant and makes you feel like an important piece in the puzzle of the city. I’d heard he was a gregarious, warm-hearted, true southern gentleman (in the most authentic sense). When we finally met, I got a forgettable business transaction and a handshake.

I’ll be first to admit, my disappointment might be a little exaggerated, as I was pretty hungry at the time, thus, distracted, and Chris was on his way to meet with others. I assumed we caught each other on an off day; that the things I’d heard were true, but for whatever reason weren’t presented on that first encounter.

So when I ran into Chris Horne last night at a party that was, at least in part for Chris Horne, I hoped I’d see the energetic and outgoing guy who had been described to me by so many in Akron. This time, I was not the least bit disappointed.

When we arrived he was buying dinner for his wife and kids at Urban Eats, then proceeded to dance with his daughter to obscure 80’s pop in front of the Musica stage. The way he interacts with his family is a joy to see, and a concentrated version of his passion for people in general, as I would soon find out.

I introduced myself and said he may not remember the time we had met previously, but he assured me he did remember, “Ashley Young introduced us, right?”

Chris is funny. He likes to get to know a person, even through small talk at a party. Chris is charismatic and passionate about Akron. Chris wants people to come to him to discuss their big ideas for Akron. He wants to help in any way he can. After re-introducing myself I talked for a long time about the ideas that Cory and I have for a Market in Downtown Akron, Chris listened. Chris nodded. Then Chris said something that surprised me:

Stay this optimistic.

He wanted Cory and I to know the value of our optimism. He wanted us to know how impactful that attitude could be toward the growth and continued revitalization of the city of Akron.

That’s when I realized why people talked about Chris like he possesses some sort of mystical aura that makes others feel empowered, valued and necessary. This guy that hardly knows us or where we come from heard an idea we had and encouraged us to keep going and never stop until we make a positive change for our community.

What if we were all that way? What if we were encouraging and listened closely to the pie-in-the-sky dreams of our neighbors instead of dismissing them as far-fetched? What if instead of snuffing out the light of others, we helped to amplify the voices of those around us?

All of this is to say: if you haven’t yet picked up a copy of The Devil Strip, please do. The man at the helm is good people, and he wants the best for Akron. Even if he’s not from around here, he’s here now and I’m so very glad.

-Melissa

Here’s a photo Chris took of Cory while we were talking, just before we all decided we should probably be friends for a long, long time:

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