Category Archives: humor

Kick Butt Run

Posted on June 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I keep saying it’s All Boilermaker All The Time, but it’s really Running A Lot Of The Time. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? This by way of introduction to another post about my day’s run.

It was just prior to 6:30 this morning (Saturday) when I set out. I love running early in the morning. The air is cool, the traffic is sparse, my body is fresh, and best of all: I get it over and done with! Oh, I like to run. I enjoy moving my body, I enjoy looking around at the scenery, I enjoy calling remarks to chance passersby and petting the occasional dog. I know some people don’t particularly like to run but like to have run (much like some writers despise writing but adore to have written). No question: there are many runs that turn into a painful slog and the only good thing I can say about it is, “At least I did it.” I believe I’ve written blog posts about some of mine (and that makes two good things I can say about it; let’s hear it for writing a blog!). And even on a good run, it is a lovely feeling to know I don’t have to run again before tomorrow.

That was a rather long paragraph to say that today’s was a Good Run (yes, I have to capitalize it). And that makes an interesting observation: I get short winded when I run and long winded when I write about it.

I had an idea to run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. As I ran, I wondered if I should instead run up the kick-butt way. I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before, because I haven’t run there in a while, but there is a third way to get up the hill to HCCC. It goes by the dormitories and curves around, going up in several places in a rather steep fashion. It’s longer than the back way and steeper than the front way. The worst of both worlds. I don’t run it very often.

As I approached the first hill, I said to myself, “Well, that doesn’t look too kick-butt-y.” and my beleaguered butt said, “Kick-butt-y enough!” Not that my butt bears the brunt of running pain. My legs and my lungs do, and occasionally my lower back. None of them were complaining, so I told my butt to shut up and ran on (yes, I talk to my body parts when I run; it passes the time). I knew the kick butt way ends with an extremely steep little path that comes right out on the front road to the college. Then I could run back down.

Soon I realized I wasn’t sure I remembered which way to run around the dorms. Did this way go up or down? Did this road go through or end in a parking lot? There was a set of wooden stairs I remembered. Ah, running stairs. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top but there was a nice level stretch. That was soon going back down. Oh dear, it looped around and brought me back to the stairs. I didn’t want to run up the stairs again! Try this way. No good.

It seemed the only thing to do was to go down a little ways, then the rest of the way up the back way. As I did this, I realized I would not be going the rest of the way up the back way; I would be going ALL the way up the back way! Well, I told myself, you wanted to get your butt kicked. There are a lot of hills on the Boilermaker. I would be ready.

When I got to the top of the back way, I ran into a dorm parking lot, seeking the last, steep kick butt-y path. Otherwise, I didn’t really feel I had gone up the kick butt way. At last I found it. And realized I had come the wrong way. I had actually missed some steep stuff leading up to the last path. Well, I would have to explore that another day. I went up the last bit.

After this it’s downhill all the way, I promised myself, then reflected that that was the way by body was headed anyways. Ah, running is ever a metaphor for life. As I ran down, I got a horrible stitch in my side. I lifted my hands over my head and breathed deeply, which I have been told helps. I thought I might as well make triumphant fists and pretend somebody was singing the chorus of “We Are the Champions.” I looked at my shadow and thought I looked more like I was surrendering. “Don’t shoot me, Mr. Police Officer!” I kept running.

I was not even halfway to my time. Ugh. I ran around a block before stopping at the spring, so I could get my little drink at least halfway through my run. Now, I told myself, just a leisurely jaunt through the streets of Herkimer, no hills, no worries.

It really was not bad. There was lots of shade to be found. I crossed any street I felt like with very little problem. At one point, I realized the stitch in my side was gone. When did that happen? My legs felt tired near the end, but did not reach that macaroni-like state that causes me to ponder al denti vs. overcooked. And when I got home I fixed myself a ham, egg and cheese sandwich on a whole wheat English muffin. Ah! I do love a satisfying breakfast after a good long run.

And now I have done my two most important chores of the day: running and writing my blog post. Oh, I know, there are other things like laundry and cleaning and gardening. Priorities, people! The Boilermaker is two weeks away! I think it will be fun.

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Short, Sweaty Shuffle

Posted on June 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Subtitle: I Wish I WAS Lame! (You know, just a little reference to Lame Post Friday, and a lament about my lack of running prowess)

Fine time I’m going to have in the Boilermaker. I just went three days without running at all. In my defense, two of those days were, in the words of Cole Porter, Too Damn Hot (that was a Cole Porter tune, wasn’t it? I’ll ask Steven; he’ll know). Friday (today) promised to be cooler. As I sat at work all day sweating, I knew it was not the miracle for which I had been hoping. I also knew that it would be a very good idea if I ran anyways.

Stepping outside after work, I encountered a lovely breeze which gave me hope. The sunshine was still bright and brutal, though. My thermometer was reading 79 degrees, so I decided to postpone my run till 5 o’clock. Perhaps the temperature would have dropped at least a little. As it turned out, I forgot to check the temperature before I set out, so I’ll never know the exact number of degrees.

I’ll never know the exact amount of sweat that dripped off my body, either, but it certainly seemed considerable. As I ran down German Street, I could see that the opposite sidewalk had a lot more shade. But it’s hard to cross German in 5 o’clock traffic. I don’t like to do it unless I have a compelling reason, like I’m going to run one of the hills over there. I was not about to run a hill. I had previously made up my mind to run a short length of time and no hills. I thought I would try being good to myself.

It didn’t feel very good as I went on. I was running very slowly. I mean even slower and more shuffley than my usual pace. At first I felt that I could at least keep going if I kept the slow pace. Well, what’s wrong with a slow pace, I asked myself. You can’t run very fast for the first few miles of the Boilermaker anyways, because of all the runners. And, you know, somebody has to be in last place.

I always remember a story I heard about a guy who finished the Boilermaker dead last. A cop car was keeping pace with him, because it was past time for the roads to be open. The cop kept asking the runner did he want a ride. The runner told the cop to shut up and go eat another donut. I don’t know if that is a true story. If I am in last place in the Boilermaker, I will try to to get snarky with any police officers.

So I pretty much decided where to run based on which direction or side of the street had the most shade (except, as I said, for crossing German). And I must say, there was very little shade to be had. I kept myself going by telling myself, “This may be what the Boilermaker is like.” I had pretty good luck with temperatures the two Boilermakers I ran, but I’ve heard it’s been run in 90 degrees on occasion.

The most notable thing I saw on my run was a beautiful classic Mustang convertible getting a jump from a pick-up truck. What a great day for a ride in a convertible, and I adore classic Mustangs. The most enviable thing I saw was people relaxing on shady porches.

In short, it was one of those runs that afterwards I felt good that I ran more than feeling it was a good run. Tomorrow I should be able to run a six in the morning, a clearly superior time for a run. As for my subtitle about wishing I was lame… well, then I wouldn’t have to worry about the Boilermaker. But I don’t really wish it. I am a little sorry I used up my Lame Post yesterday, though. Because this is kind of a lame post about kind of a lame run. Oh well, as I intend to run again tomorrow, so too I intend to post. I’ll strive to do better. Happy Friday.

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Sorry, St. Anthony

Posted on June 22, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I have to take Lame Post Friday a day early this week. I was writing about St. Anthony’s festival when I realized I did not remember much about it other than the sausage and pepper sandwich I ate and that the band and DJ were both awfully loud (then again, I always think the music is loud). Oh, and I remember a few nice people petting Tabby. But I don’t remember the name of the band or what all kinds of booths they had besides what we actually ate (there were even other food booths, I seem to recall).

I feel really stupid! I remember giving a shout-out to St. Anthony’s Festival last year and having no problem writing the post. I know, I should go back and read that post, then look for the festival program we picked up this year, THEN write the post. But I’m at work (on a break, of course), so I can’t check these things now. And later I will not have time, because I must prepare to meet Steven for today’s Mohawk Valley adventure. And since that adventure may involve beer and staying out till 8 p.m. or later, I can’t count on writing the post afterwards. So you see my problem.

If ever there was a time for random observations and half-baked philosophy, this is it. So do you think I can come up with anything. NO!!! It’s a wrist to forehead situation.

Actually, we can extrapolate a number of observations just from the situation I described. First observation: I care more about sausage and pepper sandwiches than festival booths and band names. Second observation: I have a cute dog that nice people like to pet. Third observation: I can almost always get a post about not being able to write a post.

I can work up some half-baked philosophy around my exclamation of “I feel really stupid!” First of all (and this is also a not-so-random observation): nobody is perfect. It is counter-productive to leap to insulting global statements based upon one’s inability to recall specific details (I rather like that last sentence). Then again, I didn’t say I am stupid. I said I felt stupid. And sometimes you just have to feel a certain way until you don’t feel that way any more.

How I feel right now is that I have done wrong in writing a Lame Post on a Thursday. Fridays are for Lame Posts. Then again, this week my Friday may not be a Friday, because I might have to work on Saturday. And astute readers (if any) will have picked up on the fact that I have a Mohawk Valley adventure planned for tonight. I can write about that on Friday. Or even refresh my memory and write about St. Anthony’s Festival. The possibilities are endless!

Today, however, I’m on a time budget. What you see is what you get. Happy Thursday, everyone.

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Just Another Little Taste…

Posted on June 21, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

In addition to tasting wine and cheese at Vintage Spirits in Herkimer, NY, last Friday, I tasted some wine at Ilion Wine and Spirits. Steven accompanied me to the second place.

Ilion Wine and Spirits has a tasting room that is, dare I say, tastefully furnished. On my way back there I snagged a piece of cheese from the table of munchies. Ilion Wine and Spirits puts out an excellent snack table to go with their tastings. I left Steven sampling the goodies and made my way to the wine.

A number of people were already tasting, but not too many to get through. I’ve been to tastings there where the room was packed. However, people are usually nice about making room for each other. I picked up the print out listing the wines.

I started with a Petra Unger Gruner Veltliner 2010 from Austria. I asked should there be two dots over the u to make that “eueu” sound. There should be. I seem to remember hearing the word Veltliner before and liking the wine. I like the word, too. It’s fun to say. Try it. I liked this Veltliner, although it did not reach my ultimate accolade of “yummy.”

My other favorite of that tasting was the Medinet Blanc from France. They described it as semi-dry, well balanced. I just liked it.

By now Steven was sitting on the couch, observing the proceedings (he thought he should refrain from eating everything on the munchy table). I would get my taste, go sit down next to Steven and sip it, then ask him to hold the glass while I wrote in my little book about it. It’s a very pleasant way to do a tasting. I must get Steven to accompany me to other tastings with couches.

This was a very friendly tasting, with everybody chatting and comparing notes on what they had tried and what they had liked. I refrained from trying the Smirnoff Savannah Tea, but participated in a discussion about Long Island Iced Tea and how it can be difficult to find one made properly. We discovered that several of our fellow tasters were headed to Herkimer next for St. Anthony’s Festival. As that was Steven’s and my next destination, we promised to look for them. I also recommended the tasting at Vintage Spirits.

“Tell them Cindy sent you,” I said, although I doubt that anyone did.

I actually did not buy anything I tasted, but I found a bottle of Twin Vines Vinho Verde, which I like, and Steven pointed out some Baco Noir from Domhnall Vineyards in Herkimer, NY. I don’t like to take advantage of a free tasting and not buy anything.

Ilion Wine and Spirits is located at 10 E. Main St., Ilion, NY, telephone 315-894-8142.

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Yummy Wine

Posted on June 20, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So Friday I was at Vintage Spirits in Herkimer, NY, where I tasted some yummy cheese from Three Village Cheese Company. I tasted some wine as well.

A lady I know from work recommended I try what she was trying, the Renee Junot White. However, Bronson said I must try the Youquem Torrontes 2011 first. I like being a regular at places. They know what you like and make recommendations. I wrote in my little book, “Oh yeah, yummy,” so obviously Bronson was right. The Junot, which of course I also tried, was fruitier and sweeter.

I will interject here for the benefit of readers who have not read one of my wine posts yet: it may be obvious by now I am not a wine snob. I do not hesitate to describe wines I like as “yummy.” Sometimes I get more descriptive, as you’ll see, but I have absolutely no oenophile cred (I had to look up how to spell that word).

I thought the Zios Albarino 2011 was a very summer wine. The driest white in the tasting was the Bigi Orvieto Classico 2011. Another good summer wine.

I also tried the Martini Prosecco. It was OK, but I like drier bubblies better. Bronson said Proseccos are dry compared to Astis. I remember having a great deal of fun at a wedding where Asti Spumante was being drunk. That was years ago, when my tastes ran sweeter and, quite frankly, so did my personality (but only relatively speaking).

Among the reds my favorite was Lapostelle Casa Carmenere 2010 from Chile. It was the most complex (ooh, there’s an oenophile word! and it gets better:). I tasted notes of pepper. I was so excited! I never taste notes of anything! Imagine my chagrin when I looked at the printout and read that the wine has notes of spice and tobacco. So once again, I was on the wrong note.

When I told Steven about it, he said he didn’t quite get why notes of tobacco would be a good thing in a wine. He likes to smoke his tobacco. On reflection, though, I say it’s not so far off. In Arabic the word for smoke (a cigarette) is the same word as to drink (a beverage). So in Arabic speaking countries, they drink their tobacco.

Anyways, I bought a bottle of the Lapostelle, thinking a larger glass and more leisure would better reveal whatever notes were present. Or I may just drink it and say, “Yum.”

Vintage Spirits is located at 246 Mohawk St., Herkimer. Phone number 315-866-6800.

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Middle-aged Run

Posted on June 19, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I let myself off the hook most Mondays with Middle-aged Musings Monday. Kind of a beginning of the week version of Lame Post Friday. Only I spent my breaks at work (when I usually write my day’s post) staring into space, writing a letter to a friend and calling my husband on my cell. But it’s no worries if I didn’t write: I planned to run after work. That’s my usual back up: run, then write about my run.

Only it wasn’t a very good run (I know, since when has that ever stopped me?). As the Boilermaker looms ever closer, I think I would feel a little more comfortable if my runs were becoming consistently easier and more fun. And why, may I ask, aren’t they? I first learned to love running in the army and the reason was simple. All you have to do is run. And you just magically get better at it! Let me tell you, push ups are not like that. The Arabic language is not like that. Running is.

Only today it was not.

I started out with such confidence, too. The temperature had not gotten up to 90, as the meteorologists had threatened. Uh, I mean predicted. I thought, perhaps I ought to take advantage of the cooler temps and do a real workout with lots of hills or something. At least run for 45 minutes or an hour.

Ten steps out of my house, I realized the weather was not the running heaven for which I had hoped. It was humid! Muggy! I was mugged by the atmosphere! Seriously, right away I could tell that breathing would not be fun for the next however long I ran. As I got to German Street I saw that a tree was coming down right where I would have liked to run if I had been going to run up the hill to Herkimer County Community College. Good! I didn’t want to run there anyways! I would run the relatively level streets on my side of German and be happy about it.

As I ran, I confess I was not so happy. I did enjoy the comfort of my new headband, though. Saturday I bought a new headband at the Sneaker Store in New Hartford. It is a new, high tech kind of material that wicks the sweat away from your body. It is thin, so it doesn’t push my glasses askew. And it is surprisingly absorbent for its thinness. Of course, it was not the miracle I had been hoping for. My face still sweated. That was when I remembered: sweat doesn’t just drip down from the top of my head. There are sweat glands all over my head! Silly me. But I do like my new headband.

I managed to run for a half hour. I thought that was respectable, and quite frankly my legs were telling me a longer run was Just Not Possible. I usually tell them to shut up and keep running. In fact, I told them that today, too, because they wanted me to stop a good eight minutes from home. But I knew I could only keep them going for so long.

Several other people were out running. I thought we all must be training for the Boilermaker. I also thought they all looked as if they were running much better than I was. I wondered how many of them had started training in February, as I did. I felt a little virtuous about the February thing and tried not to think too hard about the not running so good thing.

I did have a middle-aged musing while I ran. It was: maybe I’m too damn middle-aged to run any more! Well, I know darn well that’s not true. After the first Boilermaker I ran, I had a very nice conversation with a guy who had run many Boilermakers, and he was in his 70s. His 70s! 70 year old men run better than me! Oh wait, that wasn’t where I was going with that. On second thought, though, that is a good point. It’s OK if I run like garbage. I’ll do much better when I’m 70!

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More Cheese, Please

Posted on June 18, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

No, this is not a post about the cheesy horror movies I adore. It is about actual cheese. But I guess I do need to get onto watching more silly movies…

Be that as it may, on Friday I went to a Wine and Cheese Tasting at Vintage Spirits in Herkimer, NY. The cheese was provided by Three Village Cheese of Poland, NY. I did take notes on the wine I tasted, but today I want to talk about the cheese. Yum!

The flier I picked up refers to it as Farmstead and Artisan Cheese. It is made on the farm from pasteurized and raw cow’s milk. I tasted Tomme, Feta, Havarti, Swedish Farmer’s Cheese, and Dill Havarti. The Tomme was the most unusual to me. It was the hardest cheese; in fact, I think Tom, the guy from Three Village Cheese, said “tomme” means hard. It was substantial. Tom said it would be good with a robust, red wine. He was quite right. I liked it a lot by itself, too.

The other cheese that was new to me was the Swedish Farmers’ Cheese. This was a softer, friendlier cheese. The flier says it can be used for breakfast, sandwiches, grilling or sauces. How about a breakfast sandwich fixed on the grill covered with cheese sauce? Or am I being silly (how unusual of me)?

The problem was, Vintage Spirits could not sell me the cheese. In fact, to purchase it I would have to go out to Tom’s truck and pay him cash. Everybody was making silly jokes about deals in the parking lot. I had no cash. Tom said I could just come out to the farm; there is a handy map on the flier. I said I would if I could not get my husband to come back with me later. He has all the cash this week for some reason.

When I got home I looked at Thursday’s paper and saw that Ilion Wine and Spirits was also having a wine tasting. Imagine my delight when Steven returned home and expressed his willingness to accompany me to both places.

Tom was happy to see me return. Steven tried all the cheeses and liked the Dill Havarti best. Steven does like dill. So do I. We went out to the parking lot to make our purchase.

Three Village Cheese is located at 2608 Newport Rd., Poland, NY. Phone number is 315-794-9545. You can also find them on Facebook.

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A Lame Post Indeed

Posted on June 16, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Time for another Lame Post Friday. Random observations and half-baked philosophy. Ought to be an easy day. And I just don’t feel like writing one.

So I started writing a cooking post about some salad I happened to make on Sunday, and I just don’t feel like writing that.

So I sit, pondering how could I write yet another I Don’t Feel Like Writing post. I can’t do it. For one thing, some wise ass reader (you know who you are) will ask me do I want cheese with that whine and think they are clever. Listen, twinkle toes (I love calling people twinkle toes), I first heard that joke in the ’90s, and it was old then.

But it gives me an random observation worth at least a little half-baked philosophy: other people’s complaints always sound like whining. I bet I’ve made this observation before. Could that be because I complain a lot and people are always telling me to quit whining? Say it ain’t so! (They used to say “Say it ain’t so” in the army a lot. One drill sergeant once started chanted, “Say it ain’t so, say it ain’t so,” like it was the chorus of a rap song. The Drill Sergeant Rap. Somebody ought to write that.)

So now that I’ve written a paragraph with which I am not totally displeased, I don’t feel like whining any more. I mean, I don’t whine! But, yes, I’d like some cheese.

This less than 300 words. A lame post indeed. Then again, it’s Friday. And I’ve had some Mohawk Valley adventures today! So stay tuned, for something considerably less lame. Happy Friday!

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Too Hot to Trot

Posted on June 15, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

It’s All Boilermaker All The Time!

Not really. I mean, I’ve always done a lot of running posts, especially when I am short on Mohawk Valley adventures in a given week. However, I am thinking about the Boilermaker lately in a fairly obsessive fashion. It’s getting closer! Yikes!

So I’m up to running an hour as of Sunday. Then I took Monday and Tuesday off. In my defense, Monday my shoulder was still paining me quite considerably (I think I wrote a post about running Sunday with a terrible muscle spasm) and Tuesday it rained. So you see.

I ran on Wednesday. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t far. I had to meet Steven at 5:30 when he got off work, so we could go to Hummel’s and buy a flag for Flag Day (our flag was ripped; a veteran such as myself cannot fly a torn flag on Flag Day). I thought a half hour run would at least keep me in the game. I had an idea to run by a friend’s house and check her house number, so I could send her a post card.

It quickly became apparent that it was the wrong direction to run in. There was no shade. The sun beat on me mercilessly. I persevered, as I have been known to do. I had no reward, though, because I couldn’t see the house number as I ran by the house. I didn’t want to stop and run in place and stare. Somebody might call a cop.

Later, as I was walking with Tabby to meet Steven, we passed a lady running in the other direction.

“Hot day for it,” I remarked.

“It’s not too bad,” she answered as she loped by like an gazelle. So I felt like I’m the only plodder in Herkimer who is bothered by the late afternoon sun.

Today (Thursday), I thought I would be smarter and wait a bit before I ran. The sun could set a little, and the temperature could cool off. I got some work done around the house that way, which is good, because I knew I might be good for nothing after the run, even if it did cool off.

So I guess I should have waited longer than 45 minutes. Like maybe till October. At least I thought I would sensibly run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. There would be lots of shade. None of this running through residential areas searching for friendly trees.

There was not as much shade as I was hoping for. I don’t know much about plate tectonics, but I think that hill has gotten steeper. I plodded up it, telling myself that every step was one step easier on the Boilermaker. At one point, I thought the up slope was similar to the section of the Boilermaker right before you run through the country club. Of course I could be remembering wrong, but I thought, if I can just keep doing this, maybe the Boilermaker won’t suck too much.

Oh, it took a long time to get to the top, but at last I made it. To continue on up onto campus was to run in the sun. No shade seemed available until I had run all the way up to and around the athletic complex and down the other side. Well, I wanted to go for a long run. I told myself it did not matter how slowly I ran, I just had to keep going.

A car coming in the other direction beeped at me. I gave a vague wave, since I thought it might be a friendly beep. I looked and saw a girl in the passenger seat smiling at me and the driver giving me a thumb’s up. Very nice. I was encouraged.

As I rounded the athletic fields, I realized there was no shade, but a breeze blew over me and made me happy. I saw a motorcycle in the path I was on. Who in the world parked their bike there and where were they? Then I saw three people on one of the softball diamonds, practicing batting, I think. I wanted to holler at them that I was going to borrow their motorcycle, but they were too far away.

The fence by some tennis courts cast as shadow. If only it were a solid fence instead of chain link. This wasn’t going to do me any good! Now, now, I told myself. Maybe it will help a little. It did not. In fact, the sun reflected off the hard surface of the tennis courts and made me even hotter.

As I continued, I found some shade. Not a lot, but I savored what I found. Then I was on the hill back to town. A steep down slope is not my favorite. Too jouncy. But I did what I could with it. A stop at the spring for a refreshing drink. Aaah!

Coming round a corner on my way home, I almost ran into a young man running in the other direction. We saw each other in plenty of time. He even said, “Excuse me.” Nice young man, and running quite a bit faster than I was.

The phrase “All Boilermaker All The Time” came into my head as I walked my cool down with Tabby. The Boilermaker certainly motivated me to run today, at least to run as far as I did. Now that I’m drinking Gator Ade and typing this into the computer, I don’t feel too bad. I didn’t feel it during the run, but maybe I can rock this after all.

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The Meating Place

Posted on June 14, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

The other day as I was driving home, I remembered that Steven and I had not planned anything for dinner. This has happened a lot lately, and we’ve either gotten delivery or just not eaten very well. Then I remembered that I drive right by Mohawk Village Market on my way home. We still had macaroni salad that I had made earlier in the week. All I needed was some meat.

A long time ago in this blog, I noted that on the outside of Mohawk Village Market, they advertise themselves as “The Meating Place.” Another sign declares, “You Never Sausage a Place.” I do love a good pun (although some sources say there is no such thing). I had heard from several people that the Market had a good butcher section. I would check it out.

The meat counter runs across the whole back wall. The selection was excellent. I had barely started pondering my choices when a man asked if he could help me. I had been thinking sausage (because of that sign), but some quite beautiful pork chops caught my eye (Steven loves pork chops).

“But they’re so big,” I said.

“So only eat one,” he suggested.

I could probably eat half of one and be content, but I got two. I don’t think our finances are so bad that Steven and I need to be splitting a pork chop for dinner. While the man was wrapping them, I noticed some Spiedie Beef and Pork Chops. I love Spiedie meats! (Although I’m not clear on how to spell “Spiedie” and we have since thrown away the package.) I got the beef, so as not to be getting too much pork.

When I got in line to check out, the other customers were making funny jokes with the cashier. They were obviously all acquainted. I do love a small town atmosphere. I was quite pleased with my purchases. We fried up the Spiedie Beef right away and froze the pork chops for future consumption.

Mohawk Village Market is located at 24 West Main Street, Mohawk, NY. Phone number is 315-866-3344.

Final note: I searched “spiedie meats” on my computer when I typed this in. Spiedie is the correct spelling.

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Posted in food, humor, local business, meat, Mohawk. Bookmark the permalink.
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