I made a pilgrimage back to Ohio last weekend. Ostensibly it was to catch up with the folks and perhaps check out the Brier Hill Italian Festival. I’ve long loved local festivals of all sorts in any community, but I knew there would be bonus points if I stumbled on the making secrets of Youngstown’s famed contribution to the pizza dialectic. (I would share them with you here, of course.)
When all was eaten and gone, however, I flew away with something quite unexpected, if not as neatly original (and admittedly quite solipsistic). At one point in the weekend, my dad mused aloud how different things might have been if I had never left suburban Ohio–if, well, New York, and then later Brian Sacawa had never happened to me. It was a startling thing to consider after experiencing so much Youngstown community in the form of local Italian and Greek food festivals and making nostalgic explorations of now-abandoned or much-altered local landmarks. I came home to Baltimore slightly disoriented, as if I had stepped a little too far through an alternate doorway and failed to return at the appointed hour. I did, however, remember to take a few photos. It was all exceedingly tasty.
Things started out well enough with some dedicated sweets-eating at St. John’s Greek Orthodox Church.
Later on, it was admittedly the pizza not the moon that hit us in the eye. What can I say? It was hard to look away and leave the last piece for midnight snacks. The sauce staining our fingers, we left Brier Hill feeling a little more Italian than when we had arrived.
All of this eating resonated as a fairly powerful statement about the links between food and personal history. And so in my case, when all was said and done of course, it was the shared tea and biscuits with mom, and coffee and donuts with dad, that meant the most. (Awww….)
UPDATE: Dad throws down a challenge:
You make me wish I was from Youngstown! After reading your post, I miss living there, too….
Awww, I’m sure you could be made an honorary citizen! Clearly, there’s plenty of awesome food to share.
Having lived in Youngstown in 2002-04, this article made me want to plan a trip back immediately. This and Umble. Dr. Sacawa can explain the Umble part.
You should! And I’m going to have to as well, since I just realized I totally forgot to check in on the Beat Coffehouse and The Mocha House (the Warren location is where I did all my best high school flirting).
molly,
i enjoy your writing tremendously!!! hope to share with my english students,
june baker
Aww, thanks so much, June. I should proof read one more time, in that case! Actually, I’m not sure what your needs are, but if you want a (slightly more) formal example, this might be a good post to check out.
OH Greek pastries are my favourite in the world. That honey syrup gets me every time. Sounds like such a quality festival… I love the whole vibe surrounding food festivals and markets.
It admittedly made me very homesick, even while I was still there!
I want that pizza ;)
Do you have a recipe or some sort of approximate recipe for that pizza pie?
Hey Mark. You might check out the first linked recipe. I’m still experimenting, but that post seems to imply a certain Youngstown pedigree to their recipe. I’m fairly certain my dad just “wings” it with his. Clearly I inherited his ability to carefully follow written instructions.
Hi Molly! I just discovered your blog through Serious Eats. I was surprised to hear you mention Youngstown in a post, even more so that you know the Mocha House in Warren! I am wondering where you might have grown up in the area. I am originally from Bristolville, north of Warren. I now live in upstate NY near Bennington, VT.
And I totally agree, Greek pastries are not the same outside of Youngstown. Honey DOES make all the difference!
Hi, Melissa. Small world! I actually grew up in Boardman and my folks still live there. I was able to visit Bennington once and have always loved my trips to Vermont. What a beautiful state!