12 meatloaves walk into a bar

As a man named Grey told me, “It started with a beer.” He could have been speaking of many regrettable activities. In this case, he was referring to the judging process for the “Backstreet Pub’s first (hopefully annual) Meatloaf Off.”

When pub owner Liz Kopf sent an email promoting the event, that’s exactly what she called it — first (hopefully annual). How refreshingly honest! As my pappy, the editor, told me, you should never say “first annual” in a news story. An event is not actually annual until it happens the second year.

As a food writer, I was super-excited by the prospect of a meatloaf competition. I pictured myself running around with my little notebook and pencil, documenting the judging process and interviewing the winners. Perhaps I could get a scoop and publish the winning meatloaf recipe in the Foodie Gazette!

When we arrived, the bartender told me that the judging was upstairs, and no one was allowed up there. I was crestfallen. “Not even members of the Press?” I asked. He rolled his eyes at my impertinence and went to take someone else’s order. I entertained myself by playing with my camera.

Marilyn, Philip, and Barry wait for winners to be announced
Marilyn, Philip, and Barry wait for winners to be announced
The Backstreet Pub has great ambience, now that it's non-smoking
The Backstreet Pub has great ambience, now that it's non-smoking

A few minutes later, as I was cooling my heels, one of the judges came down the stairs. He was not much of an interview subject, though, being a dog.

The first judge descends the staircase
The first judge descends the staircase

Finally, the other judges came down and announced the winners. I was standing beside the third-place winner, a woman named Donna, and I congratulated her and asked how it felt. She shrugged. Then she saw my camera, scowled, and turned her back, saying, “No photos.”

Disappointed, I turned to one of the judges, a man named Grey.

“How did you get selected to be a judge?” I asked.

“I’m the bar-owner’s boyfriend,” he said.

“Er, that’s nice,” I said, lamely. He returned to his beer.

At this point, I decided interviewing people was hard. Eating meatloaf would be easier. I joined the crowd making its way up the narrow spiral staircase.

Upstairs, folks were lined up, plates in hand, to taste the 12 meatloaf-off contenders. I took a small spoonful of each, along with some mashed potatoes and some sort of spinach dish. Afterwards, I talked with first place winner Kathy Roberts and second place winner James Lewis about their winning entries.

Kathy’s meatloaf was based on an old recipe published by Kellogg’s cornflakes. Instead of baking it in a loaf pan, she pressed the mixture into muffin tins, making small, round meatloaves. I’m sure her lettuce-lined platter got the highest score for presentation, before the hungry crowd descended upon it.

First place winner, Kathy Roberts
First place winner, Kathy Roberts

Kathy’s topping was not only delicious, it was nice and thick. She had basted each loaf at least three times during baking with a mixture of chili sauce, brown sugar, and catsup.

James’ meatloaf, which took second place, had a secret ingredient: Klaussen’s Sauerkraut. He used a basic meatloaf recipe with oatmeal for filler, pressed half of it into a pan, and then covered it with a layer of sauerkraut. On top of this, he put a mixture of one part stone ground mustard, one part yellow mustard, and one part honey. He covered this with the rest of the meatloaf and topped it with catsup.

I asked James where he got the recipe.

Second place winner, James Lewis
Second place winner, James Lewis

“I’m a computer tech,” he said. “A few years ago, I went to somebody’s house to work on their computer, and they were making dinner while I was there. I saw them putting the sauerkraut in the middle of the meatloaf, and I thought, ‘Sauerkraut? What the heck?'” But I went home and tried it, and I’ve been making it this way ever since.”

Kevin arrived late, and most of the meatloaf was gone. There was still beer.
Kevin arrived late, and most of the meatloaf was gone. There was still beer.
"They licked the platters clean!"
"They licked the platters clean!"

At the end of the evening, I realized I was not cut out to be a hard-core journalist. First of all, I found it easier to interview meatloaf than people. Secondly, I was not objective. I preferred James’ meatloaf over Kathy’s, and I thought the spinach was better than all the meatloaves! Most importantly, I had failed to answer the key question: Who brought the spinach dish?

A few days after the event, I ran into a woman named Denise who I knew from around town. She’d been at the Meatloaf Off, where she told me about the prior competition — a macaroni and cheese contest. She was also brainstorming on the next one, which might be a chicken soup contest. So it was natural for me to ask, “Did you have anything to do with organizing the meatloaf competition?”

“Oh, no,” she said, “I just brought the spinach souffle.”

And that’s how I got the recipe for what I consider the REAL winner of the “Backstreet Pub’s first (hopefully annual) Meatloaf Off”: Denise’s Mom’s Spinach Souffle.

(Meat)loaves and fishes

Here in Beaufort-by-the-Sea, life is not all about seafood. Pictures and stories from the “first annual” Backstreet Pub “Meatloaf-Off” will be coming soon, along with tips from the winners on how to make great meatloaf.

The best meatloaves arrived on a mission,
Hoping some folks might fail by attrition,
For their fine chefs, you see,
Were all hoping to be
Named the “First” in the first competition.

Dancing like a bunch of monkeys in the snow

Margaret and Barry at Mardi Gras in Gloucester, NC
Margaret and Barry at Mardi Gras in Gloucester, NC

There’s nothing like a little publicity to mess up a great local event. That must be what the folks in Gloucester, North Carolina were thinking when their down-east Mardi Gras celebration got written up in Our State magazine. As one volunteer confided, “We were hoping for a little bad weather, to keep the numbers down.”

Be careful what you ask for! The evening before the event, Mother Nature dumped an unprecedented foot of snow on the area. This was not a little bad weather. For an area where snow shovels are rare (we saw people raking their driveways), it was a LOT.

Still, Barry and I were only 15 miles down the road, and we had four-wheel drive. It was no problem to drive to Gloucester, a tiny town about as close to the end of the road as you’re likely to get. Our route was lined with snowmen, including one wearing a bikini!

When we arrived, we found friendly folks serving up seafood gumbo with big ol’ crab legs, chunks of fried turkey, red beans and rice, and king cake. Everyone seemed to be wearing a silly mask or hat, so our colorful outfits fit right in. “Wait a minute,” said Pam, when we ran into her, “don’t y’all live on a sailboat? Where do you keep those costumes?”

And then someone shouted, “Laissez les bons temps rouler!” and rowdy dancing began. It was the zydeco band Unknown Tongues, who had started this community Mardi Gras celebration 18 years ago. They set our feet and hearts dancing, right there in that wacky North Carolina snow, especially when they played “You’re Gonna Look Like a Monkey When You Get Old.”

(Weird, small, coincidental world! I just realized, when I read the Our State article, that proceeds from Mardi Gras go to the Woodrow Price Scholarship Fund. That would be the same Woodrow Price I wrote about almost a year ago, when my Dad came to visit.)

Margaret poses with the Official Mardi Gras Snowperson
Margaret poses with the Official Mardi Gras Snowperson
The first people we met were the best-dressed of the whole event
The first people we met were the best-dressed of the whole event
Barry and a new friend practice their flashing technique
Barry and a new friend practice their flashing technique
Barry liked both the front and back of this headpiece
Barry liked both the front and back of this headpiece
Margaret poses with a bumper sticker that's perfect for her
Margaret poses with a bumper sticker that's perfect for her
This kind fellow passed out a taste of gumbo to the folks waiting in the food line
This kind fellow passed out a taste of gumbo to the folks waiting in the food line
This fellow knew how to accessorize, with a tiny ukelele and a rubboard tie
This fellow knew how to accessorize, with a tiny ukelele and a rubboard tie
The tooth fairy came, with plenty of teeth and dental implements to share
The tooth fairy came, with plenty of teeth and dental implements to share
Great sunglasses
Great sunglasses
Proud lady in a feather mask
Proud lady in a feather mask
This lady makes a special mask for the event each year
This lady makes a special mask for the event each year
This tie was so bright, it practically glowed green
This tie was so bright, it practically glowed green
Man in feathers
Man in feathers
This elegant costume didn't stop her from dancing at all
Don't let the elegant brocade jacket fool you -- this lady could DANCE
Two masked ladies caught in the unladylike act of eating gumbo
Two masked ladies caught in the unladylike act of eating gumbo
The bonfire was necessary to thaw us out for dancing
The bonfire was necessary to thaw us out for dancing

Dancing like a bunch of monkeys in the snow from Margaret Meps Schulte on Vimeo.

When Hell froze over

The chances of finding a favorite Seattle friend living in Morehead City were so miniscule, we thought that Hell would freeze over first. We caught up with Kevin in December — he’d been living here for 3 years, and Flutterby’s been here for 2 years. On February 13th, when he came out to see the boat for the first time, Hell froze over, as evidenced by the photo below.

From Seattle, friend Kevin is witty,
But we’d got out of touch, what a pity.
But then Hell did freeze over,
For this fine Irish Rover,
Has been living in wee Morehead City.

Meps and Kevin Hell freezes over
Left: Meps and Kevin, Right: There was no snow when Kevin arrived at the boat. After dinner, here he is (on the far side) cleaning off his truck.

Plenty of cheer to go around

A couple of weeks ago, we heard that some seriously bad weather — namely, snow — was headed to coastal North Carolina. Although it seemed counterintuitive, we could avoid the cold by going north. So we jumped in the Squid Wagon for a road trip.

It will come as no surprise that our destination was a pot pie supper in Odessa Simpson’s cozy farmhouse kitchen. Barry was eager to participate this time, especially since he’d seen both my Pot Pie Nirvana video and the Sand Tart 101 video sent by our friends from Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania.

Along the way, we stopped at a Piggly Wiggly grocery store and bought every single can and bottle of Cheerwine soda they had. We delivered the cherry-flavored beverage to Mike and Wes, who can’t buy their favorite soda in Pennsylvania any more.

Loading a grocery cart with Cheerwine
Loading a grocery cart with Cheerwine
The Squid Wagon could have held 20 times this much Cheerwine
The Squid Wagon could have held 20 times this much Cheerwine
Piggly Wiggly: The best place in the South to buy Cheerwine or wiggly pig parts
Piggly Wiggly: The best place in the South to buy Cheerwine or wiggly pig parts

Just as expected, the snow passed south of us. Washington D.C. got enough to paralyze the city, which only requires about three snowflakes. We enjoyed a romantic dusting, with fluffy flakes falling past the window as we rolled out pot pie dough. There was lots of hanging out and talking, watching videos, cooking, eating, and we even got to see Avatar in 3D. A perfect weekend with our borrowed family.

When we packed the van, the Cheerwine was gone, but we were now carrying a  family-sized tub of leftover pot pie. I wondered how we would eat it all.

Donna and Mike were celebrating their wedding anniversary while we rolled pot pie noodles
Donna and Mike celebrated their wedding anniversary while we rolled pot pie noodles
Barry and Meps do everything together, including rolling pot-pie noodles (under Odessa's watchful eye)
Rolling pot-pie noodles while Odessa mixes up the dough

By Monday evening, D.C.’s snow had melted enough that we could drive to our second destination, Alexandria, Virginia.

We hadn’t seen the Johns family for over a year, and that makes a big difference. Not only do the kids grow up so fast, but Sandy is always adding to her fun house collection. That’s fun house, not funhouse.

The last time we were there, for a Memorial Day party, three Slurpee machines, one cotton-candy machine, and two ice-cream makers were all cranking out cool treats, while a steady stream of burgers and chicken came off the gas grill. There was a pile of extra bathing suits so that kids who hadn’t brought theirs could go in the pool. Downstairs, in the TV room, shelves were stacked floor-to-ceiling with games, movies, and books. Another room was full of craft supplies. There was a friendly dog, a Sheltie, and a cat who didn’t mind being carried around upside-down by small, well-meaning children.

Isn’t growing up in a house like this every child’s fantasy?

But wait, there’s more! When we arrived last week, we discovered additions: Three pinball machines and a multi-game video console. I noted a commercial-style popcorn cart and a new hot dog oven, too.

Cindy and her friends take a break from cookie-baking on their snow day
Cindy and her friends take a break from cookie-baking on their snow day

The day we planned to leave, there was another little snowstorm, enough to close down the schools but not keep Andy and Sandy from going to work. It was so much fun hanging out with Cindy and Becky that we stayed an extra day.

Despite all the fun toys in the TV room, February’s action was all in the kitchen. Cindy had been selected as a student ambassador with People 2 People, and now she needed to raise money for a summer trip to Europe. Her Mom had an ambitious idea: Why not set Cindy up as a cookie-baker? So they created an email address, cindythecookiegirl@gmail.com, made posters, and sent out an email blast. The response was overwhelming. It seemed like everybody wanted to order The Cookie Girl’s giant heart-shaped, decorated cookies for Valentine’s Day.

For a couple of days, the Kitchen-Aid mixer seemed to run non-stop, and Barry and I pitched in to help. Mainly, we took photos, ate test batches of oatmeal, chocolate-chip, and sugar cookies, and made meals that did not involve sugar, butter, and chocolate chips. We shared our pot pie leftovers and made chili and cornbread. Mostly, though, it was like our visit with Mike and Donna. We were just reveling in borrowed family, enjoying the warmth of a home.

The weather forecasters began predicting another snowstorm, the one they called Snowmageddon and Snowpocalypse. It was time to go. The pot pie was gone, replaced with a beautiful 12-inch heart-shaped sugar cookie that Cindy had decorated with our names.

About an hour after we arrived at the boat, two special guests arrived. Barry’s aunt Jeanine and her partner, Jim, were on their way south from Rhode Island to Florida, and wanted to check on our progress. In a small-world coincidence, Jim is a sailor who had once hauled his boat at Bock Marine for a month. They’d visited us over a year ago, and we had a lot of projects to show off.

Barry, his aunt Jeanine, and her friend Jim aboard Flutterby, after eating some of the giant cookie
Barry, his aunt Jeanine, and her friend Jim aboard Flutterby, after eating some of the giant cookie

Now the yummy circle is complete. The Cheerwine went north to one borrowed family, the pot pie leftovers traveled to the next borrowed family, and the cookies came back with us, to be shared with relatives and our borrowed boatyard family.

We aren’t able to avoid snow — it’s predicted for the boat tonight. But the food-as-love that we brought back with us is keeping us warm, and will for a long time.

(More photos are below — there were so many good ones!)

Odessa watches Barry cook some sausages and peppers on the 1949 stove
Odessa watches Barry cook some sausages and peppers on the 60-year-old stove
Odessa Simpson loves both people and animals. This is the neighbor's dog.
Odessa Simpson loves both people and animals. This is the neighbor's dog.
Cindy checks a cookie recipe before beginning to bake
Cindy checks a cookie recipe before beginning to bake
Cindy looks over a bag of chocolate chips for her cookies
Cindy looks over a bag of chocolate chips for her cookies
Becky does a taste test of the unbaked dough
Becky does a taste test of the unbaked dough
Cindy scoops cookie dough into a container
Cindy scoops cookie dough into a container
Cleanup is the best part!
Cleanup is the best part!
Barry joins the "cleanup" crew
Barry joins the "cleanup" crew
KitchenAid bowls make great hats after you've licked them clean
KitchenAid bowls make great hats after you've licked them clean
Sandy bakes a test batch of cookies
Sandy bakes a test batch of cookies
Becky watches as Cindy decorates our giant sugar cookie
Becky watches as Cindy decorates our giant sugar cookie
The text reads "Happy V-Day Barry and Margaret, from the Johns"
The text reads "Happy V-Day Barry and Margaret, from the Johns"
Becky and I show off the cookie that I decorated
Becky and I show off the cookie that I decorated

Seven precious friends

Left: Sam (Seattle) and Tina (Seattle), Middle: Bob (Seattle), Michael (Seattle), Tom (Yelm, WA), Right: Jon (Beaufort, NC), Jacqui (Bellingham, WA)
Left: Sam (Seattle) and Tina (Seattle), Middle: Bob (Seattle), Michael (Seattle), Tom (Yelm, WA), Right: Jon (Beaufort, NC), Jacqui (Bellingham, WA)

Since the fall, we’ve gotten word that seven dear friends are struggling with life-threatening illnesses. Initially, I felt shaken and helpless, wishing I could help. Now I just go through my day, thinking about them as much as possible. I hope they’re having a good day today, or at least a good moment right now.

Finally, I sat down at my computer and started going through my photos. I found that I’d taken joyful, exuberant photos of each one of them — boating, working, playing, celebrating, relaxing. So I compiled seven of my favorite photos to share with you.

You may not know these people, but if you did, you’d like them. So could you please send them a wish for a good day? If you do that, I’ll have a great day myself!

Which is the younger sister?

Betcha can’t tell from the photos below. Happy Birthday to my favorite young woman in the whole world — you look awesome in that sweater!

I’ve a beautiful sis, Julie S.
And she’s older than me, I confess.
But my friends, they all say,
“She’s not fifty, NO WAY!”
It’s her wonderful life — free of stress.
Which is the younger sister?
Here are a couple of oldie-but-goodie photos of Julie from 1960. One is with Mom and one’s with her big sister, Daisy.
Mom and Julie, 1960 Julie and Daisy, 1960

Tastes like chicken

Last fall, I went to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, not because the town’s name is so cool, but to document an amazing chicken pot pie recipe. I’ve been raving about Pennsylvania Dutch pot pie ever since.

A couple of weeks ago, Barry found leftover Christmas turkey and gravy in the fridge. Could it be turned into pot pie?

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” I said. “Making it from turkey instead of chicken might be sacrilege.”

Barry just looked at me and waited.

“All right,” I sighed. “But you have to watch the video first.” So we sat down and watched the Pot Pie Nirvana video. This put me in the mood and showed Barry the technique.

Then we rolled up our sleeves and made pot pie together in our tiny boat galley. This proves that two people can cook almost anything in a kitchen with less than three feet each of counter space and floor space, if they are extremely patient and affectionate with each other.

Barry shows off the dough in the bowl. It was cold enough to wear our Santa hats inside the boat.
Barry shows off the dough in the bowl. It was cold enough to wear our Santa hats inside the boat.
Barry rolling out the noodles. This shows just how tiny our galley is -- Barry's working on top of the icebox, next to the stove.
Barry rolling out the noodles. This shows just how tiny our galley is -- Barry's working on top of the icebox, next to the stove.
Barry's using our rolling pin on top of a silicone mat to roll the noodles.
Barry's using our rolling pin on top of a silicone mat to roll the noodles.
Barry uses a plastic knife to cut the dough into square noodles.
Barry uses a plastic knife to cut the dough into square noodles.
Barry cutting the noodles on the silicone mat.
Barry cutting the noodles on the silicone mat.
Margaret made some of the noodles, too.
Margaret made some of the noodles, too.
Dropping the handmade noodles into turkey broth. For a pot, we used a pressure cooker without the lid.
Dropping the handmade noodles into turkey broth. For a pot, we used a pressure cooker without the lid.
Margaret blows on the spoon before testing the pot pie. Burning her tongue at this point would be a tragedy.
Margaret blows on the spoon before testing the pot pie. Burning her tongue at this point would be a tragedy.
Margaret stirs in leftover turkey from Christmas dinner.
Margaret stirs in leftover turkey from Christmas dinner.
Meps is ready to eat her pot pie. The beverage of choice is a Mike's Lemonade, in honor of Mike, who introduced us to pot pie.
Meps is ready to eat her pot pie. The beverage of choice is a Mike's Lemonade, in honor of the guy who introduced us to pot pie.
I'm ready to eat! Stop taking pictures and sit down!
I'm ready to eat! Stop taking pictures and sit down!

Cold snap

The boat was so cold that we shut
The door to the forward end. But
We still had a bed,
And a galley and head,
In our maritime eight-by-twelve hut.

Below is a photo of me in our dinette bed during the cold, when the boat interior was about 45 degrees for a week. I’m wearing a wool top under my jammies, a fleece hood, and have two teddy bears to help keep me warm. Although we couldn’t drag ourselves out from under the blankets before noon, we were able to make coffee without getting out of bed!
Chilly Meps in the dinette