Woodside Creamery

Location: Hockessin, Delaware

Date: August 20, 2013

Sometimes, Road Food can steer you towards places so unassuming and so far off the beaten path that when you get there you feel like you've stumbled across some sort of secret club meeting. And sometimes the food at these places is so fantastic that you take it upon yourself to spread the word to everyone you've ever met. The mere mention of Woodside Creamery, in Hockessin, Delaware, causes my wife to spontaneously shriek in delight at the memory of what she claims is "literally the best ice cream ever."

We live in Baltimore and my parents live in New Jersey, so we regularly drive through Northern Delaware on trips to and from their place. On the way back from one late-summer trip, we figured we would make a quick detour to Hockessin. It wasn't quick. Although on the map, it looked close enough to Route 95, it turned out to be almost a half hour detour. Although a lot of the greater Wilmington area seems like one strip mall after another, Woodside Creamery is essentially located in the middle of a field. And that's precisely the point: the cows, grazing quietly behind a picket fence, make milk that is immediately converted into ice cream. No middle-man required. Or, as Jim Mitchell, whose family has owned this land since 1796, so memorably puts it in Roadfood, "Two weeks ago, our ice cream was grass."

There are plenty of flavors on the board, and some of them are a little wacky. (I hate to spoil the party, but the whole "bacon-flavored novelty dessert" trend is entirely played out. Does anyone actually order this?) One of the weird big-ticket flavors is called "Motor Oil," and features a swirl of green caramel. The six-year-old me approves. Really though, the ice cream speaks for itself without relying on excessive toppings or fillers. There is absolutely nothing wrong with ordering something as vanilla as... mint chocolate chip. That's what my wife usually tries first at a new ice cream place - to her, it's a good barometer of the ice cream's overall quality. I had pumpkin, because I pretty much never miss an opportunity to eat something pumpkin-flavored. I'm not sure I can describe the ice cream any better than the Sterns, so here are their words: "It is wonderfully normal ice cream, by which we mean it is not sickeningly butterfatty or cloying." Couldn't agree more. I'm reminded of a trip to an ice cream parlor in Charlottesville, Virginia a few years ago. Maya and I both ordered our own cone and had taken a few licks when the punky guy behind the counter asked us if we wanted to know the secret ingredient. We said sure, but almost immediately wished we hadn't when the guy proudly revealed to us that he had used twenty percent butterfat. I think we each ended up throwing out half our cone. All of which is to say that sometimes when it comes to ice cream, there is virtue in restraint.

Maya and I ate our cones on a bench, under an overhang, in view of an old motorcycle and a story hour group for young children and their moms. (The story hour is kind of a stroke of genius, actually: who else but kids and parents show up for ice cream on week day afternoons?)

Verdict: DO IT. Woodside Creamery is only open from April to October (as you would expect from this kind of place), but I know this is a detour we'll be making again.

Dot's

Location: Wilmington, Vermont

Date: June 24, 2014

Food Ordered: A bowl of chili and a slice of blueberry pie a la mode

The Beck concert, which provided me with an excuse to have lunch at Dot's.

I understand the Sterns' need to tinker with their Roadfood list from edition to edition. Still, I was disappointed to see that the new edition omits Dot's, a charming diner located at the center of Wilmington, a quaint Vermont village that looks like a movie set of a New England town. I spent three summers in Middlebury, Vermont, working on a Masters in literature. But Middlebury is a long way from Southern Vermont, and during my first two summers, I just couldn't find a way to justify driving almost two and a half hours (one way) to find a diner. But on the night before the first day of classes in my third summer at Middlebury, I had reason to be in North Adams, Mass for a concert (Beck, at Mass MOCA, a modern art museum housed in what used to be a factory complex). Since I had some time to kill until the show, and since I wasn't sure when I'd find myself at loose ends in this part of the state again, I decided to drive to Wilmington for a late lunch.

On the map, North Adams and Wilmington look like they're pretty close together but no two locations in Vermont and Western Mass are as close as they look, and it ended up taking me about forty-five minutes to reach my destination. The road was lined with "Moose Crossing" signs and I spent the entire drive sneaking expectant glances at the woods. This was a familiar habit of mine in Vermont: I spent each of my three summers on high Moose Alert, but alas, was to be denied time and time again. My waitress at Dot's told me that a stretch of Route 9, the state highway that runs through the center of Wilmington, had recently been closed when a trucker struck a moose - so maybe I should be thankful that one never graced me with its presence.

As it turned out, moose-related accidents were the least of Wilmington's recent concerns. In August of 2011, it was completely devastated by Hurricane Irene, as were many towns in the area. The story of its resurrection, which required the financial and moral support of the entire town, drew the attention of the New York Times. (The framed article, which tells this improbable story, is on the wall - it's hard to miss when you come in.) Dot's 2.0 looks sturdy and modern - it's still under the same management, and it still serves more or less the same menu. Still, I have to imagine that the hurricane deprived it of some of its character - even though I suppose it's a miracle the diner exists at all. From what I understand, it was once that classic small town New England diner where locals don't have to ask for their cup of coffee and slice of pie, and say things like, "Nice day, if it don't rain." Maybe this still happens during the morning shift at Dot's, but it was hard to tell at 4:00 in the afternoon when I paid my visit. Despite the vintage neon sign outside, the dining space looked clean and modern, and was just about empty. I sat at the bar and enjoyed talking to my chatty waitress, who recommended I try the chili. Surely Vermont isn't known for its chili, but the Sterns had also given it their approval. I gave it a shot and was glad I did: aside from being the perfect vessel for a big hunk of Vermont cheddar, it was thick and meaty, although only mildly spicy. And even though I usually manage to resist indulging in pie, I was glad to have a slice of gooey blueberry pie a la mode.

(Note: I've been using stars to rate these restaurants, but since I've enjoyed just about every Roadfood spot I've ever been to, that might not be the best system. I think instead I'll just go with a simple yay or nay - or, maybe "do it" or "skip it." It's important to point out too that "skip it" doesn't necessarily mean I don't like the the restaurant. It may just mean I don't think has the requisite character or culinary notability to be properly termed Roadfood. For example, Woodberry Kitchen - for my money, the best restaurant in Baltimore - would earn a "skip it," simply because it just doesn't meet the criteria.)

Unlike pictures in previous posts, I actually took this one as official documentation of my visit.

That being said...

Verdict: SKIP IT. Let me qualify this verdict by saying that the food (or what I had of it) was great, as was the service. And even the new space itself, while slightly sterile inside, is notable for its classic sign and its main dining room, which juts out over the rapidly running Deerfield River. I will not hesitate to stop here again next time I am in Wilmington with some time to kill. Yet, while I'm disappointed by the deletion of Dot's from the offical list, I can understand it. There is nothing served here that can't be found at a good restaurant anywhere else in the country.

Faidley's

Note: Today, I came home to find my brand new copy of Roadfood (now in its ninth edition) waiting for me in a package from Amazon. Apparently this edition has over two hundred new entries, although obviously many of the entries are holdovers from earlier editions - and most of the restaurants that appeared in the previous edition are described using the same blurb as last time. I guess I shouldn't complain about this version being too similar to the previous one. I still bought it, with eyes wide open.

One nice feature of the new edition is the advent of the Roadfood Pantheon (my term, not theirs): a list of the Sterns' Top 100 Essential Spots. (Neither Primanti Bros. or Rutt's Hut made the cut, which sounds absurd on its surface, but then, it's probably hard to narrow a list of 900+ down to one hundred.)

One minor annoyance: a few of the places that I have previously visited (some at great inconvenience), are no longer in the book. Although the Sterns make a special point of nothing that the omission of some of these spots "does not mean it's out of business or we don't like it any more," it's still a little disheartening to find that suddenly I haven't been to as many destinations on the latest list.

By the same token, it's annoying to find new entries located in areas I visited in the past and may not visit any time soon. For example, the latest edition includes "Al's French Fries" in South Burlington. I lived in Vermont over the summer, and probably passed Al's French Fries at least five times. It's a little upsetting to know that I missed out on an easy opportunity to make a Roadfood run, simply because I didn't know this place existed. And I'm not sure when I'll be up that way again. Oh well.

Location: Baltimore, Maryland

Date: June 14, 2013

Food Ordered: One large crab cake

I will probably never live closer to a Roadfood destination than I lived to Faidley's in Baltimore. This legendary crab cake spot, which did make it into the Sterns' Pantheon by the way, is one of many establishments in Lexington Market, just a few blocks away from my old apartment down town. Lexington Market is real Baltimore: a little gritty, a little dirty and to non-locals, sometimes a little intimidating. It's right on the subway line and the Light Rail line, which means it is easily accessible to folks from some of Baltimore's poorest neighborhoods. Lexington Market is a world away from Philly's yuppified Reading Terminal Market, and that's part of its charm. On the other hand, there is nothing particularly charming about the acts of violence that have recently occurred there, sometimes in broad daylight. (Note: Plans are in the works for a major overhaul of Lexington Market. I hope it doesn't entirely lose its grungy character, but yeah, this place probably could use an overhaul.)

I tried to make it to Faidley's several times before I actually succeeded. It isn't open on Sundays (I learned that the hard way) or after 5:00 (That too). A few weeks after moving to downtown Baltimore, Maya and I walked over to the market at around 1:00 on a Saturday only to find that, while the market itself was open, Faidley's, inexplicably, was not. (We had a crab cake anyway, from another vendor, and it was fine.)

I finally tasted my first, and to date, only, Faidley's crab cake on a Friday afternoon when I made a pit stop on my way down to Camden Yards. It was worth the wait. I ordered a huge crab cake - no fries, no sides - from a weathered old white woman who called me "hon." And I ate it the way it was meant to be eaten - standing at a round table in middle of the crowded market. When people talk about a great crab cake, they always mention its lack of filler - and yeah, that's important, but it's also kind of a given at the highest levels of crab cakes. Faidley's crab cake was pretty much all crab, no filler - but to me, its most salient quality was a slightly mustardy tang that I found myself recalling all throughout the O's game.

Verdict: Five out of five stars. I've made something of a study of crab cakes since I moved to Baltimore about two and a half years ago. And if you get me started, I will be happy to pontificate on the merits and demerits of various venues in the area. But it all starts and ends with Faidley's. There's a reason it always tops those Best Crab Cakes in Baltimore lists. Obviously, its inclusion in Roadfood is essential, even though I think the Sterns egregiously snub a few other Baltimore institutions.