Traveling Feast

The second to last day of 2009 started with an early morning visit to Psycho Donuts for the Cereal Killer and my first ever “hamburger donut.”

Psycho opened in 2009 to community protest and picketers on the sidewalk of their tiny strip mall at the corner of Winchester and Campbell in California’s South Bay Area.  It could have been the name.  Or offense at a case of donuts with names like Jekyll & Hyde, Headbanger’s Evil Twin, and Psycho Panda.  Maybe the protesters don’t like fried food.

I’m guessing, though,that the protests just helped business, and I would humbly suggest that there might be more urgent targets for protest than a donut shop with a slightly deranged theme.  Psycho Donuts staff wear nursing outfits reminiscent of Halloween, and they have an actual padded room inside the door (okay, it is more like a three-sided padded phone booth designed for photo opportunities).

Just for the title we had to try the Cereal Killer with its cargo of Cap’n Crunchberries on top.

The title is better than the donut truthfully.  But just the opposite should be said for the Apricotology.  It has my vote for the worst name on a menu with some other doozies, but the donut itself is brilliant.  I’ll never eat another apple fritter again without wishing it was a Psycho Donut apricot monstrosity.

Yet there is another great reason to go out of your way to visit Psycho and cross the picket lines (if they happen to reappear).  It is the Hamburger Donut.  For the sheer cheek of saying you ate one, it is worth $2.50.

But the truth is that this donut actually works: a donut sprinkled with sesame seeds is sliced in half and slathered inside with honey butter and strawberry jam before several sliced of bacon are slipped inside.  It is not what your taste buds expect of a donut, but by bite two or three, you just might have an epiphany and begin to ask why donuts are typically sugar bombs rather than pastries that combine sweet and savory in creative ways.

Or you can dismiss me as ‘nuts.’  You won’t be the first or the last.

St. Regis Travel Center Edition: Western Montana travel kitsch seems to lean heavily on huckleberries and outhouses for the local items, but a number of more generic items also caught my eye in the food-related kitsch category.  Weigh in with which of the items you think should take top honors.

Entry #1: “Chili Makins” that claim to not to contribute to global warm or ozone depletion.

Entry #2: Silicone bakeware with a conscience.  “Let them eat cake” takes on new meaning.

Entry #3: Ice cube nostagia for the early video game addict.

Entry #4: Possibly the strangest of the items in the expansive local huckleberry line-up.

Entry #5: For the butter challenged who appreciate single season, single action gadgets, comes the Butter Boy.  I believe it runs on ethanol.

Entry #6: When just a state-branded shot glass won’t do, go for the one with the miniature bear camped inside.

Entry #7: The Celene Dion soundtrack is optional.

And our final St. Regis Travel Center entry, #8: The moose-chugger bottle holder.

Your votes please.

I tend to be a bit incredulous on my way to the bathroom at most travel centers.  Why?  It is the nick-nacks offered for sale.

Yesterday though I decided to take a more studied approach to travel center commerce.  On the way from Spokane over to my parents home on Flathead Lake, I determined to try find the MOST OUTRAGEOUS food-related item offered for sale wherever we stopped to visit the loo.  I did just this, took pictures, and intend to let you vote on what you think should be #1.  Yet just the idea of looking for the most outrageous item on display gave me a new clinical distance that offered up general observations as well as some real kitsch contenders.

Observations First: Travel kitsch tends to fall into categories.  There are all the locally-branded items from tee-shirts to mugs and shot glasses.  My favorite in this category yesterday was the Montana mug trying to impersonate a tree trunk.

Most of this seems to be made in China, but is intended to evoke a sense of place far far from Shanghai.  Second there are all the vanity items embossed with your name.  My son Peter’s name is always available on key chains, pens, pipe bombs and the like.  Daughter Megan’s name is equally popular.  It is only our third child, Brendan, who is left out.  Apparently there are enough Brandons in the world to justify a print run, but the Brendans are out of luck.

The third category is the humor category: items intended to make you laugh enough to forget you have no place to put said sign or item when you get home.  For some reason a high percentage of the travel kitsch in the humor category seems to skew toward the crude.

Fourth comes the cheap home decor category with a line up of items destined to gather dust on mantle pieces (much of it with a country/folk/old fashioned feel).

Fifth are the toys guaranteed not to break only until at least the next exit on the Interstate.

Sixth: jewelery.

Seventh: unique local items… often food like hot sauce, jams, candy, and a pancake mix supposedly made by Aunt Alice.  In the case of western Montana, apparently the critical ingredient is a huckleberry.  Maybe in Minnesota it is a walleye trout.

What I’m curious about at the moment is what categories I might have missed.  The specific kitsch from St. Regis should show up for comment soon, but right now let  me know what classic travel kitsch categories I’m missing.

A new category for periodic posts has surfaced recently that offers real potential alongside our Fortune Cookie Files and Food Service Typos.  This category is Food Kitsch.

Kitsch is a classic German/Yiddish word that typically refers to art that is “excessively garish or sentimental… usually considered in bad taste” according to WordNet.  Other definitions toss in adjectives like vulgar, trite, melodramatic, lowbrow, and tasteless. Some of what is clearly kitsch is simply offensive, but there are also examples of kitsch that are curious, over-the-top, and even wonderful in an odd or disturbed way.

Kitsch shows up everywhere, but one place with a particular affinity for kitsch is the kitchen.  We consider this a true delight, and from time to time we’d love to pass along a few examples.

Today, that is a product about to hit the market called Season Shot.

What is it?  It is food-grade ammunition for your shotgun.

I can’t say it better than the Season Shot website itself: “Season Shot is made of tightly packed seasoning bound by a fully biodegradable food product. The seasoning is actually injected into the bird on impact seasoning the meat from the inside out. When the bird is cooked the seasoning pellets melt into the meat spreading the flavor to the entire bird. Forget worrying about shot breaking your teeth and start wondering about which flavor shot to use!”

One of their slogans is: SHOOTS, KILLS, SEASONS.

Season Shot also celebrates the fact that their shot brings down your bird without any damage to the environment, and will be available in five delicious flavors: Cajun, Lemon Pepper, Garlic, Teriyaki, and Honey Mustard.

The target market?  (chuckle)  Men equally happy with large fire arms and oven mitts.

FOOD KITSCH METER: 7.5