Jar of Goodness 5.1.22: Clovers Natural Market

. . . The weekly virtual “gratitude jar.”

This week, I’m expressing thanks for Clovers Natural Market in Columbia.

Today, Clovers celebrated 16 years of having their store at 2012 E. Broadway! They had a beautiful, sunshiny day for vendors indoors and inside to offer samples of their goodies and other products. Annie’s Breads, River Hills Harvest, Logboat Brewing Company, Raw Roots Turmeric, and more. We sampled candy-like turmeric and beet gummy supplements, chatted with the rep from Logboat while he poured us generous samples of their locally made beer, and made new friends with Ranjana Hans, of Raw Roots Turmeric, who sells her fresh Ayurvedic herbs and products at the Columbia Farmer’s Market as well as at Clovers.

Oldtimers (like me) will remember Clovers when it was at 802 Business Loop 70 East. The original business, called Columbia Specialty Foods, was run by Richard Catlett and had opened in 1965. I remember the elderly Mr. Catlett as an owl-like presence in his store and in the community, an unwavering liberal, an outspoken pacifist, and like Thoreau, a war-tax resister who was sent to jail for refusing to give his money to a government that was waging war. He was a Quaker, and he lived according to his principles. I honestly didn’t know the half of who he was; but knowing his legacy now, I think Columbia should have a monument to him. Or at least a big mural.

In college in the eighties, I used to stop by Columbia Specialty Foods often. Since I was on the run so much, balancing classes on campus and my job at Parkade Plaza (on the Business Loop), plus hiking a lot and visiting friends, I loved their grab-and-go sandwiches. I could always count on picking up a tasty, righteous, tofu-eggless-salad-and-sprouts pita sandwich, an organic yellow apple, and a Hansen’s sody to carry me through the afternoon. (The recipe for that vintage tofu salad sandwich is here.)

Often, I’d throw my lunch in my daypack and carry it out to that overlook at Gans Creek, and eat it there. You know the place—it’s what they now call Shooting Star Bluff. (This is back when shooting stars used to cover that gladelike area, which is now just trampled mud. But I remember when it was bird’s-foot violets and shooting stars there, all April. But I digress.)

In 1991 (after I’d moved out of state), the current owners, Patty Clover and Scott Nirmaier, purchased the store and renamed it “Clover’s.” Before buying it, Clover and Nirmaier had been employees at Columbia Specialty Foods.

Clover’s opened their fancy new second location on Chapel Plaza Court (at Forum and Chapel Hill) in 1999. That allowed them to reach a lot of people whose lives are centered in that section of town. I’d say the two stores have different characters; the one on Broadway is a former laundromat nearer the center of town and has a more soulful feeling. A little more crowded and worn, a little more loved.

A lot of the transition happened during times when I didn’t live in Missouri, but I visited Clover’s often when back for the holidays, and after we returned in the late 1990s we visited the Chapel Hill store a lot, since we lived in that part of town. Both stores have a unique vibe; they’re still at heart mom-and-pop stores; stepping in the door, you can tell you’re not at a chain. You’re in a place where someone cares.

Now that we live in Jeff City, our visits to Columbia for groceries are fewer, but I’m making a point of shopping more often at Clovers Natural Market.

All Roads Lead to Schulte’s

I suppose you could argue that the Missouri state capitol is the center of town, and that all the city’s roads lead to that big, domed, neoclassical building. You certainly do get a lot of good views of it as you’re driving around . . . and there is that traffic bottleneck called the Missouri River Bridge, and what we call “the dreaded trilevel” of conjoining highways on the south side of it. But in a very sneaky way, all roads in Jefferson City actually lead to Schulte’s Fresh Foods, a locally owned grocery store. Seriously. We always seem to be driving to Schulte’s, even when we had no idea we were heading in its direction.

At this point, we’ve grown used to the phenomenon—it’s a little like having a friendly ghost in the house that occasionally moves your things around as a kind of freaky joke. (“Doggone it, Casper! Where’d you put my glasses now?”) But when we first moved here, it kept surprising us. We’d start on the far east side of town and drive south on Eastland, from Highway 50 (which you know leads “east” and “west”), follow that road as it turned seemingly only slightly here and there, and suddenly Schulte’s would appear on our left. We had thought we were driving south, way out into the country, but the road led us to Schulte’s anyway!

Hilly, curvy, adventuresome, random-seeming Southwest Boulevard leads right to it, too. You think you’re in one part of town, and suddenly, there you are at Schulte’s again. We always call Eastland/Seven Hills/Ellis Blvd./Southwest Blvd. “the wormhole,” because it’s like those bizarre shortcuts through space and time that occur in science fiction shows.

Many other roads also lead to Schulte’s when you least expect it. Dix Road, for instance, starting way out yonder as Boonville Road, well north of Highway 50 at Cole Junction, leads determinedly south, right onto Southwest, via that weird little connector road. And Southwest—as we’ve already established—inexorably leads to Schulte’s.

And here are some more examples: Route C/Southridge, Highway 54, Highway 179, Route B, Lorenzo Greene Dr., Tanner Bridge, Madison, Jefferson, Christie Drive—like, you could have just been to the Pizza Hut, and all of a sudden, bingo, now you’re driving toward Schultes’s and its bakery full of delicious donuts. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN??

It’s just uncanny! Any road in town can lead to Schulte’s!

. . . I hope you’re laughing at this point, because it’s all psychological! Schulte’s just happens to be at one of the highest elevations in town, and it’s positioned at the intersection of a US highway and what amounts to Jefferson City’s outer loop. And anyway, if all roads seem to lead to Schulte’s, it says more about the lure of their donuts than it does about the traffic system in the capital city.

Yes, their donuts. People in this town are in love with them. People from out of town go out of their way to get them. When local burger joints get it in their mind to construct “donut burgers” (yes, people actually do such things, I guess as a stunt) as the lunch special, they get their donuts from the hands-down local favorite: Schulte’s—and they trumpet loudly that they’re using Schulte’s donuts. On National Donut Day, Schulte’s sells zillions of them. My mom loves Schulte’s donuts. When she’s in town, she stops by and gets some twists and apple fritters—those are her favorites. And before we head to Columbia, we get some to bring to her.

Hold on a minute, I have to clarify something, unless you get the wrong idea about me. I’m not a big donut eater (thankfully) . . . though if they’re in the house, they don’t last long (“wouldn’t want them to go stale, would we?”)—and that’s why I don’t tend to buy them. But worse—blasphemy!—I don’t see that Schulte’s donuts are so stupendously better than other grocery stores, although they are probably the best in town. Mom maintains that their very dough—not counting the glazes and other toppings—is better, sweeter, lighter, and fresher. Hmm. I guess she’s right. For me, though, the choice of a grocery store doesn’t hinge on the quality of the donuts, and it doesn’t even depend on the meat (and yes, Schulte’s also prides itself as the “Home of Fine Meats”). What matters to me the most is the produce section, and the overall selection, and that’s why I almost always go to Schnucks, which also happens to be closest to my house. I just wanted to make this clear. . . . But I digress.

We’re talking about Mom, here, and her donuts! . . . Sometimes it’s the simple things in life. Sometimes, you just say, Aw, the heck with healthy eating; I want something sweet. Sometimes, I’m really glad there’s something I can bring with me to Columbia, when I visit my parents, that is sure to make my mom smile.

Leftover Veggies: From Crudités to Veggie Sandwich

Here’s a clever and delicious way to use up leftover veggies from your raw veggie tray. And it’s healthy, too! A bit of jack cheese and walnuts add deliciousness, and soy sauce and Spike seasoning mix add the je ne sais quoi.

I made some recently, when Sue’s sister sent leftover veggies home with us after we’d been on a visit to Ohio. We were supposed to eat it in the car, but there was so much we still ended up with a bag of mixed-up miscellaneous crudités.

A variety of vegetables will do here, but the standard veggie-tray types work well: carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, celery. For their texture and flavor, I’d be sure to include plenty of cauliflower, broccoli, or both.

Because this isn’t rocket science, I won’t give you rigid quantities. Just a list of ingredients with notes.


Veggie Salad Sandwich with Walnuts and Jack Cheese

First, schnittle up your veggies:

Broccoli and/or cauliflower, chopped into quarter- to half-inch pieces
Carrots, in large shreds or thin matchsticks
Celery, if you want, sliced thinly to reduce the effect of the strings

Do you want to use a food processor on the veggies? I’d use it with care—you won’t want it to become confetti, or mush. A sharp knife and a grater is what I use.

Then add the next three:

English walnuts, chopped into chunks in about the same size range as the broccoli
Monterey jack cheese, sliced and cut into little brick-shaped chunks about 1 inch long
Green onions, chopped

Then make a simple dressing from the following:

Mayonnaise (eggless is the vegan preference)
Soy sauce (or tamari), go easy on it; treat it like you would salt, because that’s its purpose here
Spike (ah, yes, our favorite spice blend/low-salt seasoning mix from way back! If yours is stale, time to get a new jar!)

Then mix it up; taste, and adjust however you want it.

This works well in a pita pocket sandwich, or as a filling for a wrap, or on a sandwich with bread stout enough to hold together. Today, I put it on ciabatta bread. You could also just put a mound of it onto a bed of lettuce, and serve with crackers.


I Give Credit for the Idea

Oh, so many years ago, when I was an undergraduate, I went with a friend to the National Women’s Music Festival, when it was held at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana. For lunch a few of those days, I ventured to the nearby Bloomingfoods Coop—now it’s Bloomingfoods Market and Deli—at 419 E. Kirkwood. (Those wonderful old vegetarian coops and restaurants always used to be right next to university campuses. Anyone remember Columbia Community Grocery, next to the, Catalpa Tree Café, on Hitt and Locust?)

At Bloomingfoods in 1988, I remember picking through their cold case of premade sandwiches. Most of them, as I recall, were vegetarian pita pocket sandwiches—tofu salad and such-like. One day, I tried a “Samurai sandwich,” which had a chickpea-based, hummus-like filling with a Japanese twist (miso, sautéed onions, bell peppers), and (naturally . . .) alfalfa sprouts. (Maybe I’ll get around to sharing that one with you someday.) [Addendum, July 30, 2016: I did post my version of the samurai sandwich recipe! —You're welcome!]

But on this day—June 4, 1988—I selected something they called a “Bric-a-Broc Sandwich.” It was named for brick cheese and broccoli, two of the primary ingredients. As I sat in the grass eating it under a big old tree on the IU campus, I was a little let down—I thought the various ingredients would have kept their own identities a little better, but they were all chopped up so finely it seemed too homogenous. (Now I understand the logic of that: Crisp veggies like carrots need to be cut finely so they don’t tear through the pita bread, and so you don’t spend the rest of the afternoon chewing!)

But I’m glad I jotted down the ingredients in my journal, as they were printed on the little adhesive label sealing the plastic wrapping: broccoli, carrots, brick cheese, onions, Spike, walnuts, tamari, eggless mayo (and the pita bread—some whole-wheat healthy stuff).

I’ve made this salad mixture occasionally since then, and I’ve always been surprised at how tasty it is, and easy to make. In the Bloomingfoods version, broccoli was abundant, carrots less so (in matchsticks, as I recall—or thick shreds). I think the onions were chopped white or yellow, but I prefer the green onions I suggest above. Tamari, by the way, was a mystery to me at the time. Seriously, you can use soy sauce, which is its close cousin. Spike I did know about, because I had so many friends who were concocting recipes like “Tofu and Spike”! (We can laugh at that today!)

I actually miss the days when sandwiches at the health food store were simpler and cheaper (the health food now seems overstimulating, ostentatious, by comparison), and I’m glad I took notes on some of them (I already told you about the tofu salad sandwich recipe I got from one of Columbia’s venerable health-food stores). Today, I wish I had the recipes for the famous nutburgers of Gentle Strength Cooperative in Tempe, Arizona; though I think I could “wing” the cashew-tuna salad sandwich, which was another favorite from that store.

Cheese Haven, Port Clinton, Ohio

Though we live in Missouri, Sue and I make it at least once a year to Cheesehaven—preferably before the holidays, so we can stock up on goodies for our entertaining. And in our checked luggage, we always smuggle back to Missouri a couple pounds of extra sharp, ten- or eleven-year-old white cheddar, some smoked fish, and a bierwurst.

(When we’re in northern Ohio, we also try to make it to the Vermilion Farm Market, which I’ve told you about before.)

Why am I writing about northern Ohio, in a blog by a Missouri gal? (1) Because it’s where Sue’s from, and we go there often to visit her family. It’s part of our life, and this blog is about our shenanigans. (Yes?) (2) Because northern Ohio’s a great place to visit. (3) Because I’m trying to reinforce a general point, here, about celebrating local businesses and local flavors. (4) And because the Midwest isn’t as lame and homogenized as the TV makes it out to be.

To be honest, the first time I saw a billboard for Cheese Haven (though the logo closes it up as “Cheesehaven,” I think it’s technically two words), I figured it was some kind of tourist-trap cheese outlet filled with lots of ultraprocessed and rubbery, flavorless cheeses for the masses. And lots of nightmare salty jerky. They’re right on a highway exit! In other words, because I read Gourmet magazine and watched the Food Network, I figured I was more classy than Cheese Haven.




I was wrong. There are treasures at Cheese Haven for every culinary taste, from the common to the extraordinary. And if you are looking for some local specialties, you can find them here. (Well, okay, if you’re vegan, you’re probably out of luck. But I digress.)

Here’s What They Carry

Cheese, and lots of it. I’m partial to the aged white cheddar, but there is much more. They’re famous for their smoked cheese, and they have a large selection of flavored types (salami, garlic, hot pepper, and caraway cheeses, for example); standard varieties such as Swiss, Colby, bleu, Gouda, Muenster, and Brie; and a growing list of imported cheeses. They usually have samples available (though I don’t think you’re supposed to make a free meal out of it).

Sausage, meats, and smoked fish. Their beef snack sticks are quite popular, and these make “Slim Jims” seem like parts of a brine-soaked old shoe. Which is to say, the beef snack sticks are actually quite meaty and delicious.




They carry a full line of deli meats, but perhaps the most notable is the store’s own bierwurst, which is made locally for Cheese Haven, using a family recipe that’s been used by the store since it opened in 1949. (It reminds me a lot of the Hott & Asel “baloney,” or garlic sausage, that my own neighborhood association has had made up, based on another vintage recipe, and sold as a fund-raiser.) I think the bierwurst is just the kind of thing you need at your New Year’s Eve party.




And the smoked fish is something we don’t get much around here in Missouri. Until I went to Cheese Haven, the only smoked fish I knew was the raw-looking salmon type—basically lox. But this is the dry-smoked stuff, and although it looks rather creepy and mummified, it is absolutely delicious! It’s intensely flavorful. It’s generally local fish from Lake Erie. Cheese Haven always has some kind of smoked fish available, though the types vary by season. The smoked catfish, for instance, is only available in the spring.

I particularly love the smoked trout and salmon. When I’m feeling decadent, I’ll make a quick pâté out of a bit of it (crumbled) beaten into some cream cheese and chopped shallot. Triscuits really love that kind of thing!

Condiments and relishes. Here again, it’s local. They sell their own brand of mustard, made in the store, as well as the complete line of Woeber’s mustards (from Springfield, Ohio). They also sell “Perfetto” marinara sauce from Sloopy’s Sports Café, a popular area restaurant. And there are jams and jellies, salsas, hot sauces, relishes, and pickles. And pickled eggs!

Wines. Cheese and sausage lead naturally to wine, and northern Ohio is a major grape- and wine-producing region. There are several small wineries on the Lake Erie islands and on the mainland, producing decent reds, cool, rich whites that make you truly appreciate the very soul of the grape, and sweet, regal ice wines. And if you’re not into wines, Cheese Haven sells other beverages, as well.

Candy. I usually don’t spend a lot of time in the candy section of Cheese Haven, but I need to point out that they have lots of candy you don’t find much anymore, including penny candy. They have every flavor of saltwater taffy imaginable, including sassafras! They have lots of old-fashioned candy, too. You can see why I avoid this section—it’s the only way I stand a chance!




Well! It’s looking more and more like a picnic, isn’t it! When I was there last week, I asked them if a lot of their business comes from Cedar Point tourism (Cedar Point is a huge amusement park near Sandusky). And they said that most of their tourism-related business is with people headed to the Lake Erie islands: Put-In Bay and Kelley’s Island, for example, plus local tourism for the Marblehead area, famous for its picturesque historic lighthouse.




This part of northern Ohio is branded to tourists as “America’s North Coast,” and it’s a good slogan. Boating, fishing, and swimming are big draws here. Put-In Bay, on South Bass Island, is a magnet all by itself. People take ferries to the island from Port Clinton, then rent golf carts or bicycles to get around on the island. Put-In Bay’s big lovely waterside park and its many cozy vacation cottages beg for you to bring along a cooler with bread, cheese, sausage, and wine. Which naturally leads you to Cheese Haven!




You might think that, like other businesses that cater to a tourist market, Cheese Haven might close during the off-season—but no way! They’re open year-round; they are closed Mondays and Tuesdays, but they certainly don’t shut down for the winter. (Hey, they have to stay open in order to sell you goodies for the holidays!)

The Cheese Haven Story

When we were there just after Thanksgiving, we noticed a sign that said “Under New Management.” We didn’t see the sign until we were exiting the parking lot on our way back home, so that night the clan sat around and discussed what might have happened at this landmark local business.

I was wondering, too, so I called to get the low-down. Here’s what I found out. Cheese Haven opened in 1949. Its original location was at Old Route 2 and State Route 53. A decade later, it moved to a location that was right across the street from where it is now. In 1989, Cheese Haven moved to its current address.

All those years, it was owned by the same fellow: Richard Brassel, who is called “Pops” by all the locals. He is the father of Tom Geisheimer, who, with his wife, Lisa, recently bought the business. Thus it remains a family-owned store! APPARENTLY I got this wrong--see the comments below! Needless to say, there's been a change in management, but apparently it's still locally run. (—JS, 6-24-11)

We did notice a few changes—most obviously in signage—but you can expect to see some other changes as well. They will be increasing the number of imported cheeses, for example. One thing you won’t see is a big turnover in staff: in this family-run business, the longtime workers are friendly with the owners, and a feeling of mutual goodwill prevails. Alas, alack, apparently I was wrong here, as well. Again, see the comments below.




One More Thing

They sell by mail order, yes they do! You can find Cheese Haven online here. They sell their cheese and sausages individually, plus they also offer gift baskets—combinations of goodies at reasonable prices. If you don’t see it online, give them a call—I’m betting they’ll ship it to you.

Why I Care

If you’re a regular reader, you already know what I’m going to tell you: Please support your local, family-run businesses. They are treasures, full of color and community pride, home of the American Dream. Even if they’re quirky places at times, they nevertheless have genuine character and a commitment to their community. Whether it’s Cheese Haven or another mom-and-pop shop just two blocks away from you, don’t let Walmart and its faceless international corporate cronies squeeze them out of the ring.

Dutch Bakery and Bulk Foods, Tipton, Missouri

For those of you who aren’t familiar with this scene, here in the Midwest, where large, centralized (and often overpriced) health-food bulk grocery stores are hard to find, we rely on Mennonite- or Amish-run stores out in the country for bulk ingredients.

Apart from highway signs, these stores don’t do a lot of advertising; most customers just “know” they’re there, by word of mouth.

The Dutch Bakery is on Highway 50 on the west side of Tipton, Missouri. It’s run by a family of Old Order Mennonites, and the store’s been there twenty-three years. (The owner told me that they started selling baked goods and produce at the Sedalia and Jeff City farmers’ markets five years before the store opened, so they’ve actually been in business since about 1982.)




Here’s a picture taken in late 2009, with the leaves gone. Notice anything unusual? How about that! Yes, it’s true—the World’s Largest 8-Ball looms like an alien eyeball over this sincere little grocery store!

See, there’s history: This water tower was painted to look like a huge 8-ball because Fischer Manufacturing, a billiard company, used to be right there by the water tower. When Spalding bought them out in 1968, Fischer was the country’s largest builder of pool tables. Tipton’s quite proud of its landmark!




Anyway, it’s quirky juxtapositions like this—the Mennonite grocery sitting there, keeping a straight face, beneath this giant goofy 8-Ball—that make small towns such a gas.

And if you’re driving along Highway 50, you have no excuse for “missing” the Dutch Bakery—just look for the Giant 8-Ball!

By the way, if you’re reading this and are not sure you’ll feel comfortable venturing into the “different culture” of a Mennonite-run grocery store, get over yourself! Yes, Mennonites are rather soft-spoken; the women wear those little caps; and you’ll probably overhear some musical and unintelligible Pennsylvania- or Swiss-German dialect—but make no mistake: You are welcome here, and they, like all store owners, are glad to sell you their stuff!

At Dutch Market, in addition to a huge variety of bulk foods, pasta, snacks, dried fruits, and baking supplies, they also sell hanging baskets, vegetable starts, and bedding plants in season; wooden lawn furniture; homemade bakery goods; home-canning supplies; meats and cheeses; and fresh local produce.

Part grocery, part produce-stand, and part bakery, this is where I got the cantaloupe the other day that became Ginger Melon Sorbet. I also got some pumpkin-walnut bread and a Swedish tea ring (day-old, discounted—give me a break) and some nice ripe yellow and red tomatoes. (Yes, the good kind!) There were also new potatoes, squash, cucumbers, and plenty more.




And bulk spices! —I had run out of bay leaves. At Dutch Bakery, I bought their smallest plastic sack of bulk bay leaves (I think it’s fresher when they bag it from bulk)—0.13 lb. (which is at least ten times as much as you get in a bottle of Durkee) for 85 cents. The only problem with this? Now I’ve got lots more bay than I know what to do with. What a hardship, huh?

Unlike a lavish, orthorexic-approved Whole Foods supermarket (or “Whole Paycheck,” as some of my friends call it), Dutch Bakery sells some bulk items that can’t be called “health foods.” Many of the dried fruits are stabilized with sulpher dioxide, and they can be tinted with, say, FD&C Yellow #6. (They are plainly marked, so it’s not like they’re hiding it from you.)

And you can buy, in bulk, all kinds of powdered and dehydrated soup and dip mixes—which, compared to homemade soups and sauces from scratch, are at a minimum just sad, and at worst, an abomination. (Unless you're camping or something.) I saw you can also get bags of that fluorescent-neon-orange powder that you add to cooked macaroni to make a bulk-foods equivalent to “Kraft Mac & Cheese.” Again, it’s not exactly “health food.” But then—if you’re wanting to feed your army on the cheap, this is the place for you.

I love it that I can get my healthy bulk grains there. Oat bran muffins, here we come!




The summary: It’s a family-run, small, local business. They’ve got great prices on a bunch of stuff that you want to buy. The produce is top-notch. The drive there is pleasant. And you’ll smile.

Plus, while you’re there, you can take pictures of the World’s Largest 8-Ball!




More Information That You Didn’t Ask for but Ought to Know

There’s a lot more to enjoy in Tipton, Missouri, such as the Vanilla Grill (believed by some to have the best chocolate ice cream ever), and Ghetto Superstar. Tipton is also the hometown of Gene Clark (a founding member of the Byrds), and he’s buried there. So if you’re a fan, you have to make a pilgrimage to the St. Andrew Catholic Cemetery, now, too!





ADDENDUM, October 8, 2010
In light of the enthusiastic endorsements below, I went and got some of the Dutch Bakery's "Dutch letters." Here's my post on them.

In Northern Ohio, Shop at the Vermilion Farm Market

Well, I’ve reviewed restaurants, why not review some grocery stores, too? Like I told you, we spent Christmas with Sue’s family in northern Ohio. I’ve been visiting up there enough years to get a real feel and appreciation for the regional specialties. One thing that strikes me as unique—compared to here in Central Missouri—is the blend of the “Firelands” New England–types with a large population of Eastern Europeans.

There are several cultural commonalities between here and there, however, including many ethnic Germans and some relatively large Amish communities.

In the rural landscapes between Sandusky and Cleveland, where we spend most of our time, there are miles of country highways past colorful orchards and truck farms, vineyards and wineries, dairies, horse breeders, and plenty of cornfields. And compared to here, the farms are tidy. It looks like the landowners must spend a lot of time with weed-whackers and lawnmowers, and buckets of paint for touching up the barns and fences.




Because of the proximity to Lake Erie, there is a healthy freshwater fishery, providing good walleye, perch, and more, fresh to an appreciative population. This region is often called “America’s North Coast,” and for good reason. Summertime lake tourism is a major industry here.

So it comes as no surprise that there’s a kick-ass farm market in Vermilion, Ohio, which is right in the thick of all this good farmland and shoreline, and all these people who demand fresh, good products.

First, here’s the official Web site for the Vermilion Farm Market. They are located at 2901 Liberty Avenue, in the town of Vermilion, Ohio.

You know how I feel about locally owned, non-mega-chain places, and this is one. This store is unique and directly reflects the needs of its actual customers. Its owners and workers are friendly and knowledgeable. If they don’t have an answer for you, they’ll find one. If you have a store like this nearby, buy your stuff there. Help them stay in business.

The Vermilion Farm Market boasts of its “Gourmet specialties, extended wine selection, and full-service bakery,” but truly, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. A lot of stores can tout these things. But what sets this grocery apart is the ratio of interesting things to the square footage of the store. This ain’t no Walmart.




The place is packed with goods without being cramped, and all the displays are tidily arranged. And despite all the meat and fish they sell, it doesn’t smell bad in there at all; neither does it smell like disinfectant. It just smells like a market.

Practically everywhere you look, from the Amish cheeses to the Polish sausages, you see something that reflects the region, its specialties, the preferences of the local palates, and ethnic traditions.

Here’s a list of some of the things I noticed. Most of these products I just don’t see here in Central Missouri—so when I saw them in Vermilion, I knew I was in a real market, and not some dreadful mega-food-industry clone.




Pierogies (and not just the nationally marketed Mrs. T’s brand). Here, they carry Sophie’s Choice pierogies, which come in a joyous array of flavors: potato, cheddar, sauerkraut, cabbage, apple . . . prune . . . apricot. . . . I’m not kidding you! These puppies are good! No matter what your ethnic heritage, these ravioli-like packets will holler “mom-food” to you, and “home.”

Sauerkraut Balls. Another regional dish; I’d never heard of it until I went bowling with Sue’s family one year. These things are delicious! I’m sure they’re not perfectly good for you, but still, if you haven’t tried them, you really oughta. They’re in the frozen food section. Oh, they don’t have these at Walmart? Huh! Wonder why?

Meats and Smoked Fish. A full-service meat counter; they know what they’re doing here. Do you know what Kizka is? It’s an Eastern European beef blood sausage. Same with Hurka, I guess, though I’m not sure. They had both. There was also Baccala (salted cod—a traditional Italian Christmas Eve dish), as well as a fine selection of dry-smoked trout, carp, salmon, and other fish. No, they’re not much to look at, but neither is bacon, and you know how good bacon tastes.




Mrs. Miller’s Homemade Noodles. Amish-style egg noodles (plus no-yolk, veggie, and organic ones) produced by a small company in Fredericksburg, Ohio (which is in the Amish country south of the city of Wooster). Nice wide noodles, kluski, pot pie squares, etc. The same company also makes a full line of pasta sauces, jams and jellies, and other preserves.

Bell-View Specialty Foods. Another regional company, a fourth-generation family business based in northern Pittsburgh. They specialize in pickles, preserves, mustards, dressings, and so on. Sue’s brother-in-law pulled me aside and pointed at a big jar of hot pepper rings: “These are the best I’ve ever had. They retain a good crunchiness, have excellent heat, but pack a good flavor as well.” I declined to try to carry a big jar of peppers home with me on the plane, but after he gave me a sample the next evening, I’m regretting my decision now.




Ballreich’s Marcelled Potato Chips. I’ve told you about these before. These are the best chips in the universe, made by a family-run business in Tiffin, Ohio. I don’t know why they’re so good; you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Ballreich's are available all over the region, but why not pick up a bag while you’re here?

The Bakery. Of course this is another section where ethnic colors shine brightly. I noticed Italian breads from Cleveland’s Orlando Bakery (which was founded by Italian immigrants) and “Charlie’s Kolachi,” which are festive nut rolls, another Eastern European specialty—apricot filling, walnut filling. And the market has its own in-store bakery, so the goods are fresh and delicious.




The Produce. Though the selection isn’t mind-blowing, it is ample, fresh, and well-tended. There are enough special items to keep it far from average, and I noted—or perhaps by now I was looking for it—a certain slant that said “ethnic tradition” to me. Plenty of turnips and beets, for instance. And packages—nice big packages!—of fresh dill. Someone’s making home cooking with these, and it’s like nothing you’d find at a Rubee Tewsdee’s.




Wines. Naturally, there’s a good selection of domestic and imported wines here, but even more exciting, you’ll enjoy exploring the great selection of local wines produced in northern Ohio and the Lake Erie islands—including Catawba Island (which is not really an island, but you might recognize the name anyway). Grapes have been grown in this region for generations, and you can find excellent Niagaras, Catawbas, Concords, Sauternes, Rieslings, Cabernets, and late harvest wines among their products.




Indeed, here are some of the wineries represented at the Vermilion Farm Market: Lonz, whose historic winery is located on Middle Bass Island; Mon Ami, on the mainland at Port Clinton; Pelee Island Winery (Pelee’s across the border and belongs to Canada, but on a good day you can see Pelee from North Bass); and Quarry Hill Winery, located in good ol’ Berlin Heights, my sweetie’s hometown.

Sigh. . . . I never quite know how to conclude these “reviews,” since by now it’s pretty clear that I’m telling you to go there if you can. I know it’s really a cheerleading session about local color, ethnic diversity, and small, family-run businesses.

As I explored the store on my vacation and photographed the aisles here and there, a fellow approached me and asked what I intended to “do” with my pictures. Well, I, uh . . .

Okay, I put them on my blog.

. . . I hope he doesn’t mind.

Vermilion Farm Market
2901 Liberty Ave.
Vermilion, OH 44089
(440) 967-9659

http://www.vermilionfarmmarket.com/

Hours:
Monday–Saturday: 8–7
Sunday: 10–6