Our June Trip: San Francisco!

My friends, if I absolutely had to go live in a big city somewhere, San Francisco would be high on the list. At least, that’s what I’ve been thinking since our trip there last month.

The thought struck me immediately as our taxi waited at an intersection with Market Street, on our way to our hotel our first day there: I noticed that all up and down Market, the “main street” of San Francisco, at regular intervals, there were rainbow flags. Big ones. As far as the eye could see.

June, of course, is Pride month internationally (it commemorates the Stonewall riots that occurred in New York in June 1969, which mark the beginning of the modern gay rights movement). And San Francisco has one of the biggest LGBT pride celebrations in the world, with a huge parade that goes down, yes, Market Street. Everybody goes.

I was fortunate enough to have an internship in San Francisco during the summer of 1990, so I got to attend one of those festivals. I saw the parade and everything. By the end of that summer, I was practically a “resident” of the City.

(I used public transportation a lot!)

(But even though I used public transportation a lot, I still had a big hill to walk up to reach my house! That burned a lot of calories!)

People like to talk about how wonderful America is—about our diverse population, the immigrants cherishing their freedom and opportunities, and so on. It’s not so much of a “melting pot” as it is a stew, where people from various ethnicities and cultures blend harmoniously, yet retain distinctions from the “old country.” To be proud Americans, yet retain what is precious and colorful about our roots. At least, that’s the goal, I think.

Of all the places I’ve seen, San Francisco seems most “American” in this way. It is proud of its diversity. It goes well beyond tolerance—the citizens of that city seem pleased to have cultivated a place where everyone can be who they are.

Of course I wax nostalic—I know it’s not a utopia. But how can I not be irreversibly impressed, and deeply moved, when I come from the Midwest? Sue and I don’t dare fly our rainbow flag outdoors in our neighborhood, in our city. It would be begging for vandalism, because too many Missourians think that it’s cool to put down gay people. I know it will be many, many years before Jefferson City puts rainbow flags all along High Street!

Anyway, you just have to imagine how it feels to a gay person from the homophobic Midwest to arrive in a city that goes out of its way to show you that you are not just tolerated, but valued as a contributing member of society.

Here's another example. This is an inscription on one of the walks at the AIDS Memorial Grove at Golden Gate Park. The grove is an exceptionally beautiful, peaceful place. The city dedicated park space for this memorial grove.

Well, that’s enough words for now. This trip, we were flat-out tourists, and we had a great time trying to see as much as possible in the three days we were there.

We rode the cable cars!

We had a breakfast at the venerable (and touristy!) Sears Fine Food, on Powell Street across from the Sir Francis Drake! (I had actually never eaten there before, and you know what? It was really good! They deserve their reputation!)

Then there is the big Asian influence. Yes, Chinatown is always rather fun, but so are lots and lots of other Asian areas, such as Japantown, and the Japanese Garden at Golden Gate Park (this is the entrance of it):

Because of our interest in Asian art, we also had to visit the Asian Art Museum! (When I lived there, this building was the main branch of the public library!) The collections are spectacular and varied, including a wide geographical range, and ancient through contemporary works. Very impressive!

Do I even have to mention the excellent Asian food?

With all the delicious chow available, San Franciscans should be grateful there are so many hills to climb, and beaches to walk. Even when it's windy!

Anybody familiar with this part of the coast ought to know these flowers: ice plants! These are some of the plants that grow closest to the beach. They smile at you coming and going.

Another thing this little tourist was eager to see was the rebuilt Steinhart Aquarium, part of the California Academy of Sciences (and also in Golden Gate Park). The last time we were in San Francisco (2005), they had torn down the venerable old aquarium and had moved to temporary new quarters, and this new building was basically only a big hole in the ground.

So it was a real treat to see the "finished product," a "green" building with up-to-date displays and interpretive information. I'm not convinced that video screens, which need electricity to work, are in any way better than printed signs, but what do I know. Still--the state-of-the-art aquaria was neat to see.

Here I am at the entryway to the new Steinhart. That above me is a life-size model of the jaws of a megalodon, a Cenozoic shark that was 52 feet long and lived in ocean waters worldwide. The teeth are about 7 inches long. Whoa, nelly!

The aquarium is on the lower level of the California Academy of Sciences, though some of the larger tanks are two stories high and can be seen from above and below. There's a nifty tunnel beneath one of these huge aquariums full of large freshwater species. If I lived in San Francisco again, I think I would come here to just sit on the bench and read.

In this big tank are three arapiamas, which, I think, are the very same fish that lived in the Steinhart back in 1990. I used to visit them! I have a special appreciation for arapiamas. Did you know they are the largest strictly freshwater fish in the world?

Okay, now, a disclaimer: In this post, and in the last one (about Florida), the BEST pictures are the ones taken by Sue! Mine are the pedestrian snapshots. Here's one of my pedestrian snapshots, of Sue as she's taking a real photo!

My abundant thanks to Sue for letting me post so many of her photos!

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.

Happy Fisherman: Open Again!

Remember last March when I told you about the Happy Fisherman, at the Lake of the Ozarks? Well, they regularly close for the winter season. Sad, I know.

This is just a reminder that they’re open again now, so you can once again go to the Lake and get your Baitcaster’s Special and have an amazing, enlightening trip to the “Salad Boat.” Check out the rock shrimp, too!




On a lark, Sue and I toodled to the Lake last night (“I want to go somewhere for dinner tonight!”), and we were thrilled to see the Happy Fisherman open again. And it didn’t disappoint.

I had the frog legs (fried—though you can also get them sautéed with onions). Yum-yum! They don’t have frog legs at Appledies!

And the Salad Boat was full of imaginative salads that, well . . . they just remind me of church ladies’ cooking. There was a yellow hominy–based salad, for instance, made with Italian dressing, that was pretty dang good. But my favorite “take” from the Salad Boat was a slaw made with red cabbage, some pieces of bacon, and (I guess) coleslaw dressing. Very simple, very colorful, and yes, very tasty.

Anyway . . . we had a great time. For more on this restaurant, see my earlier post about it.

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

The Blue Heron, Lake Ozark, Missouri

First, I’m going to tell you right away that this is a positive review. Yes. But I hope you’ll read on to find out why I like the Blue Heron. It’s really quite unique—a very special place. If you are not sure you want to dine there, read on; some of what I describe are things you could decide are drawbacks or virtues; at least you will get an idea of what the place is like, and you can decide for yourself.

Regular readers: I know by now you’re thinkin’ that I’m all in love with down-home cookin’, church suppers, German home cooking, and retro recipes, but I want you to know I have another side. In fact, Gourmet has been my absolute favorite magazine—no, my ONLY magazine—for years and years, and its demise has me in a huge funk. So don’t be surprised now when I start telling you about the Blue Heron at the Lake of the Ozarks.

Walking in the Door

Don’t get me wrong—there is something homelike about the Blue Heron. But you know how the Olive Garden says, “When you’re here, you’re Family”? The Blue Heron isn’t like that. Instead, at the Blue Heron, it’s like you’re visiting someone else’s family. Someone with a fantastic chef. And tonight you’re the guest of honor.




It begins when you step through the door. When we walked in, the owner himself, Joseph Boer, welcomed us cheerfully, with a big smile, and chatted with us for a little while. We had arrived right at opening time—5 p.m.—and after introductions and some light conversation, and some pleasant joshing around, he motioned us jovially toward the lounge, with its doorway to the outdoor pool area: “Go swimming!”

Great American Songbook, classic jazzy vocalists were playing in the sound system. I had a quick flashback to Las Vegas.

I noticed there are ramps everywhere there might have been a step or two. This makes it easy for people with physical disabilities, and it makes it easy for the waitstaff to cart the platters of food to the tables. Yes, they use real wooden carts. You never have to worry about a waiter dropping a tray of ice waters down your back.

Throughout, we found the service attentive but not omnipresent, which is the way we like it. The young woman who was our waiter knew the menu well and advised and served us gracefully.

Relaxing in the Lounge

The lounge. The lounge? Hey, we didn’t ask to be seated in the lounge! But wait—we are here to relax, aren’t we. And we just got off the highway. We’re here to enjoy ourselves! So, okay. Throw us into the briar patch! (Yeah, we could have requested immediate seating.)

This isn’t like Ruby Tewsdee’s, where you stand uncomfortably in the drafty entryway holding an oily surprise-buzzer in your hand, waiting anxiously for a table so you can be fed and outta there ASAP. Here, indeed, it’s not a “wait” to be seated—there were plenty of open tables when we arrived—instead, relaxing in the lounge before dinner is part of the experience. (If you had dinner guests at your house, wouldn’t you have them relax in the living room for a spell before inviting them all to the dinner table? Yes, you would.)

It also gave us a chance to examine the menu at our leisure.




Nota bene: The Blue Heron doesn’t take reservations; it’s first come, first served. It behooves you to arrive early, or else just resign yourself to an actual true wait. They don’t rush their customers through dinner.

In the lounge, we settled into some comfortable furniture around a small table with a blue votive (on a doily) on it. A waiter brought us a complimentary small plate of light hors d’oeuvres, with spiced mixed nuts, a sampling of olives, a seasoned cream cheese dip, and water crackers, and then served us beverages. They have an extensive wine and spirits list and proudly advertise that they’ve received Wine Spectator awards consecutively since 1983.




Sue and my dad wandered outside to the pool area to enjoy the sunset and had a terrific time chatting and enjoying the absolutely spectacular view of the Lake of the Ozarks. The Blue Heron stands on a bluff overlooking Horseshoe Bend, and the pool patio affords a fabulous sunset view. There are plenty of café tables out there, plus a romantic little gazebo. As well as several striking sculptures of herons and a few enormous wind chimes.








Dining

After we’d had this chance to relax for a bit, our server told us our table was ready, and we were led to a nice table next to a window. This time of night, at this time of year, the darkness obscured the view, but during the height of the season, I’ll bet many tables get wonderful views of the lake.




The Blue Heron is a large restaurant with at least a few serving rooms, and as we dined, the place began to fill up. Nevertheless, our service was excellent and never seemed rushed, and we never felt crowded. They have comfortable chairs, too, which my mom and her bad back enjoyed.

There is a nice selection of appetizers. When we saw that they offer escargots, we couldn’t resist. Not many restaurants in Central Missouri offer it—I suspect that many midwesterners (who nevertheless will snarf down brain sandwiches and braunschweiger) can’t abide by the thought of eating “snails.” The Blue Heron offers them in the shell or “homeless” (we chose the latter), and you can get your half-dozen of them in either a traditional garlicky butter sauce, or two in a curry sauce, two in pesto, and two in the butter-garlic. We chose the latter and greatly enjoyed them and the thin light toasts they were served with.

The bread basket included a nice array of fresh rolls and bread slices, and the green salad is tossed with a variety of ingredients ranging from slivers of carrots to radish slices to bean sprouts and is served family-style in funky retro-modern white plastic bowls. The dressings—three—are brought to the table in small dispensers. All are homemade: French, house poppyseed, and ranch. Croutons (homemade, buttery, with the flavor of real, fresh garlic) were served separately in a small bowl, and toasted pine nuts were available in a shaker (like the kind used at pizza restaurants for parmesan, but cleverly modified for pine nuts with a single, larger hole at the center).




The vegetable of the day was cooked summer squash and onions sprinkled with grated parmesan cheese. For my druthers, it seemed a tad overcooked and oversauced. Since I knew the entrées would be filling, I would have preferred lighter, simpler, “healthier” veggies with a cleaner presentation; something more of a foil for the lavish meat dishes . . . but the squash preparation was certainly delicious.

Entrées

I had studied the menu online before we drove down to the lake, but I still had a hard time deciding what to order. The dishes are mainly classic Western European and American entrées, grouped into categories by meat type. Seafood, beef, poultry, and so on.

Note: As far as I can tell, there is not a single vegetarian entrée—not even the tried-and-true “roasted vegetables in a phyllo shell” that makes good use of last night’s leftover side dish (it simply amazes me that in 2009 they don’t have a vegetarian option).

Here’s a partial list of what we had to choose from.

Seafood: Cape Cod seafood pot pie; baked or champagne lobster tail; 1 lb. Maine chicken lobster; Russian crab leg; shrimp de Jonghe (a casserole of shrimp, garlic, sherry, and bread crumbs).

Meats: aged NY strip; “B&B twin” (filets with Bearnaise and Bordelaise sauces); beef kabob; steak and lobster stack; steak and trout combination; center-cut tournedos; veal schnitzel with foie gras; peppercorn-roasted lamb rack; smoked lamb rack.

Poultry: chicken morel; fried chicken breasts; Cornish game hen; pecan encrusted chicken.

They also offer, as a “post script” to the menu, trotter osso buco, which I was sorely tempted to get, except that for the sake of providing a quality review for you, I ordered one of the Blue Heron’s most famous dishes instead.

So I ordered one of their signature dishes, an entrée that is original to this restaurant: batter-fried lobster tail, served on a bed of shoestring potatoes, with hot butter for dipping. Yes, you read that right: batter-fried lobster tail. And it seems a strange thing to do to such a top-notch piece of seafood. Then again . . . the dish was executed well. The batter was light and crispy, and the huge chunk of meat inside delicate and moist. Personally, I don’t think I’ll ever order it again, because in the grand scheme of things, I think there are better ways to prepare such a fine foodstuff. Plus the crispy shoestring potatoes seemed to be not so much for eating as for keeping the tail from looking lonely on the platter.




Indeed, the dish—as with all the entrées—comes with a choice of potatoes: baked, shoestring, French fried, or Dutch whipped. I had to try the Dutch whipped. In fact, everyone at our table selected this form of potato, since none of us could remember having it before.

Dutch-whipped potatoes are quite a bit like twice-baked potatoes; they are finely whipped potatoes (with, apparently, butter and cream and seasonings), piped into a ramekin and baked until the top gets a nice crisp surface. Very creamy and enjoyable.




Mom ordered the 14-ounce Kansas City strip steak, which was enormous and (of course) comes cooked to your specification. I didn’t hear any complaints from her about it! It certainly looked good.

Dad, as is his wont, ordered the lightest, healthiest-looking item on the menu, the salmon Florentine, which came with asparagus. It was just the ticket for him, and it looked fabulous.

I was sorely tempted to get one of the restaurant’s three Dover sole dishes: the Dover sole Waleska (served with a creamy sauce with bits of chopped lobster), the Dover sole meunière yearling, 14 oz., or the Dover sole 18 oz. Hmmm. Sue ordered the 14-ounce sole meunière, in part because of the story about Julia Child’s Rouen revelation regarding this dish.




But I’m pretty sure that a service mix-up caused her to receive the sole Waleska instead; the plate that Sue received had two lovely pieces of sole with a creamy sauce, small chunks of shellfish, and a rounded mold of white rice, in addition to a beautifully carved lemon garnish. It was not the typical simple preparation of fish dredged in flour and cooked with brown butter, à la meunière. We didn’t ask, though we should have (indeed there is a price difference); at any rate, it was delicious and decadent.

Desserts, Coffee, Cordials

We didn’t have room for dessert, but FYI, here is a small list of items I got from the Blue Heron’s Web site: apple “phyllo bouquet”; chocolate soufflé; creme brulée; cream puffs with chocolate bath . . . you get the idea.

They offer a fabulous selection of after-dinner cordials, spirits, and liqueurs. They encourage you to enjoy desserts and cordials out by the pool, if you wish.




Additionally, they offer some terrific after-dinner coffee preparations: espresso tableside; French presse; and small or large vaculator (that’s a vacuum coffee maker—most of us would view it as a “retro” coffee preparation; I’m dying to try it. The contraption looks like a cross between a swanky manual-drip coffeemaker and a bong).

Also, they offer Kopi Luwak, which I wish I had ordered, and would have, if I had recognized the name: Its other name is “civet coffee”; you might have heard of it. It’s made from coffee berries that have been ingested and excreted by Southeast Asian civets. Kopi Luwak is the most expensive coffee in the world, and many say it’s the most delicious—bright, with no bitterness, with a certain “je ne sais quoi” imparted by the unique “enzyme treatment” the beans receive. So—my goodness!—does the Blue Heron sell the real thing, true Indonesian weasel coffee? I guess we need to go back and find out.

Prices

The prices aren’t listed on their Web site; I guess to do so would be tacky. A place like this isn’t cheap, but remember that in addition to all the carefully prepared foods on your table, you are also paying for the view, the service, and the fact that you are absolutely not rushed here. They don’t have to turn over the tables ASAP at the Blue Heron, so you can linger and talk all you want.

The least-expensive entrée was about thirty dollars, but most are in the range of forty to just under fifty. The breads, salad, and vegetable come with the meal. Appetizers, drinks, coffee, and desserts are extra.

Ambience

They’ve worked hard at creating a romantic, elegant, grown-up restaurant, so this is not the place to bring toddlers and ill-behaved children. In fact, they might not allow little kids in there at all (call them if you need to know). Also, don’t insult the other diners by wearing inappropriate clothing or behaving like a country rube. And overall: This is not where you go to “grab a bite” before dashing off to do something else. If you need your food right away, this restaurant (and much of Europe, for that matter) probably isn’t the place for you.

Instead, bring someone special here for a memorable night. Order some old-school, traditional gourmet foods that you never make at home. Finish with some excellent cognac. Make an evening out of it. This is the idea at the Blue Heron; the restaurant experience is itself the evening’s entertainment.




It may or may not agree with you, but the décor—particularly outdoors—is all blue-themed. It’s rather kitschy because it’s almost too much blue-blue-blue. The spherical outdoor lamps are fitted with blue light bulbs and emit a blue glow. The patio furniture is blue. The wood trim is blue. And so on. I sense that a high-class designer or big-city guru of taste would think it’s too much, but I enjoy the exuberance and the fun of it. I sense a bona fide personal touch, with a bit of a sense of humor about it. Thumbs-up.




A Word about the Owner

There’s more on the Blue Heron’s Web site, but here is a brief recap: Joseph H. Boer came to America from Holland at age twenty after working and studying in Holland and Switzerland; he worked at fine restaurants in Kansas City and Topeka. At age twenty-six, he began his first restaurant at Osage Beach, “The Top Deck.” Two years later he opened “Lefty’s Little Chef’s Steakhouse” on the Bagnell Dam Strip, which is where he developed the batter-fried lobster tail.

He took a sabbatical from running restaurants to study business administration at the University of Missouri, then returned in 1972 to Osage Beach, opening the venerable Potted Steer Restaurant at Grand Glaize, and opening the Blue Heron, at the intersection of Business 54 and Route HH, in 1984. This past year, construction on the Highway 54 expressway forced the closure of the Potted Steer (to the grief of many), so the Blue Heron remains this cordial and enterprising Dutchman’s only restaurant.

He makes a real effort to greet his customers at the door and to approach them toward the end of their meal to make sure everything was satisfactory. He’s a real character, a memorable fellow with lots of stories and a quick wit. If you go there, tell him hi for me. Tell him I’m the one he thought looked “devilish.” (Maybe he saw me trying to take photographs of our dinners and figured I was trouble!)

When They’re Open

I hate to say this, but the Blue Heron is closing for the season on November 21. Additionally, they are only open on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, which by my count leaves you with only six more nights this year to head to the lake to enjoy the Blue Heron. They’ll reopen for the new season in April. Check their Web site or call them for the official word on next season’s opening, but for the remainder of this fall, they’re open 5 to 9:30 pm on Thursdays and Fridays, and 5 to 10 on Saturdays.

I do encourage you to take some time out and enjoy a relaxing evening at the Blue Heron.