happy burgthday to us! : indian american cafe.

Posted on March 8, 2013 by junebug

Birthdays are special. They remind us of a day when something really great entered our lives. Birthdays are different from other holidays because they’re personal. The whole nation isn’t celebrating… just your circle of friends and family… just those who inhabit your world. And so birthdays are for telling our loved ones, “I’m grateful you’re alive. I’m happy you were born. My life would not be the same without you.” And we throw parties with cake and laughter and music and silly activities. Like bobbing for apples. Or pinning a tail on something. Or running with a water balloon between your legs. I love birthday parties!! More than any other holiday.

Oh, the memories of my childhood birthday parties. The one where the wind ripped the paper tablecloths right off the tables, spilling drinks and cake and all of it… blowing across the yard, my mom frantically chasing cups and napkins. The one, in middle school (people, don’t throw a large party for a tweenager. It’s just a bad idea.), where finally some kid, on a Hawaiian Punch bender, walked right through the sliding screen door and everyone ran for cover while my dad yelled, “That’s it! THAT’S IT!” The one that coincided with father’s day (my fourteenth?) and we had a party on the lake, and I got to drive the pontoon boat (that was my favorite). In fact, June is always a spectacular month–so many birthdays. So many special people to be grateful for, including my daughter, her dad, Brandy, Blake, Rebecca, Kim, Caleb, Sarah… we just celebrate all month.

On this night, we weren’t really celebrating a person’s birthday; we were commemorating the first birthday of ilovemyburg.com. Yep — one year ago, on February 14, 2012, we launched this blog with our first post about Granny Longlegs. But, we were certainly celebrating people. I mean, the blog’s primary purpose is to document Brandy’s and my experiences in the city… so it serves as a permanent scrapbook of sorts that will become more meaningful each passing year. So it was a celebration of our friendship. But it was also, and this blog is, a celebration of all the people who inhabit our little world… all of you who read each week, all the folks we see out and about, everyone. I can say that my love for this city has grown in the last year, probably because of my increased focus on it.

We decided to eat our birthday dinner at Indian American Cafe. Brandy had hoped it would snow because she was envisioning snowy cafe photos, and I, admittedly, had not been in that restaurant in about a decade <cringe>. I used to go all the time! I don’t know why I stopped… but I will not let that place disappear from my life EVER AGAIN. We invited several friends to our birthday party, and we were joined by Danielle, Kai, Sean, and Denise. At first we discussed what to call our birthday — our “burgthday” as the title of this post indicates, or our “blogthday” or “blogirthday,”… but then Kai whipped out “Geblogstag” (German) and its equally impressive variant “Geburgstag” and trumped us all. How can anyone argue with a German guy in an Indian restaurant? I was clearly out of my league, culturally.

On to the food. When you order your food, you can choose your level of spiciness, from one-half to four. One-half is mildly spicy but certainly not bland, and four makes your eyes bleed. Just kidding. But really, don’t underestimate the hotness. I don’t remember everyone’s spice level, but I ordered my dish–this yummy steak with rice and spinach dish– at a two. Brandy got the same thing but with chicken and at level three. If memory serves, Kai got a one. Still, he was grunting away eating his meal. I was snorting and sweating my way through my plate, Brandy got splotchy and snotty, and Danielle could flat out see through time. Still, we shoveled it in as some kind of feat of endurance. The food is so good you cannot stop eating it. And they give you A LOT of food. I took half of mine home. And what did I do at two in the morning because my heartburn wouldn’t let me sleep? I ate the rest of it. Yep. You CANNOT stop eating it.

Between mouthfuls we watched You Tube videos on Kai’s phone. Yes, we were those people. Kai had not seen the Sweet Brown remix thing, and I’d somehow continued to exist despite having missed several other compelling Internet videos. Egads. And then of course, any time anyone said anything the rest of the night, one of us had to say “Ain’t nobody got time for dat” or “I can’t call it.”

It was getting on time to head to Clementine to see The Steel Wheels (post forthcoming!), so we ended our dinner with a birthday cupcake from Shank’s, compliments of Danielle. We lit the candle and sang the birthday song while Danielle tried to take photos of two really giddy idiots. Someone finally told me I had spinach between my teeth. And when we emerged from the restaurant, much to Brandy’s delight, it was snowing. Unfortunately, it was also dark.

photo by Danielle Campbell

Indian American Cafe is located at 91 North Main Street in downtown Harrisonburg, about a block south of the Blue Nile. This will go down as one of my favorite birthdays ever. Thank you to the 60+ local businesses that have tolerated our antics. Can’t wait to see what this year brings!

Copyright © 2012-13 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.

winter thaw: el charro.

Posted on January 23, 2013 by junebug

One of my favorite things about living in the Valley is that we get to enjoy all four seasons. The lush spring time when tender new plants sprout up and spread across the surface of local farms; summers full of sunshine and laughter, trips to the river and the pool… and when everything delicious is in season; gorgeous autumns when the trees bleed vibrant red and the sun slants in a sleepy kind of way through the panes flanking my front door; and crisp, snowy winters marked by eating Cheez-its and drinking hot chocolate in a sheet fort in the basement. But, I really don’t do well in the cold. Right now as I’m typing this, it’s twelve degrees outside. I’m wearing all my regular clothes, plus two bathrobes. I’m skinny and I have bad circulation, and most days, I just can’t warm up without getting in the bath tub. Obviously that’s not possible at my workplace, so I just shiver all day and seek out warm spots where I can. And given that I can’t just pack up and escape to the Caribbean any old time I want, I seek out warmth right here, in my city.

On one such chilly day recently, I was, as usual, cold to the bone. It had been a demanding day at work, the sun was quickly disappearing, and I had a bad case of the “I don’t wanna’s.” I didn’t want to walk outside and scurry awkwardly in my heels to the car only to get home, make dinner, clean up the kitchen, and grade papers. So I met Brandy and the kids at one of the warmest spots in the Burg – El Charro!

It was especially warm when I arrived because sweet Ella had written our names on each of our napkins. And warmer still because Brandy had already ordered a pitcher of Dos Equis. Yes! Let the thaw begin.

We ordered chicken and steak fajitas, a hot dog and cheese quesadillas for the girls, and Cal got his favorite thing in the world: “spicy rice.” That kid loves El Charro’s rice. He’s even asked for it for breakfast before. ??? Anyway, I’ve loved this restaurant since I moved here in 1993. The food is delicious and reasonably priced, the atmosphere is always cheery, the service is perfect every time, and the staff is just soooo nice. When my kids were babies, someone was always willing to carry them around for a little while so I could eat.

We had supplies to keep the kids occupied while we waited for our food, but honestly, you never have to wait long in that place. I’d recently tried a “love notes to strangers” project with my students (inspired by a woman named Hannah Brencher), where you write little encouraging messages and leave them for random people to find. When I left my classroom that day, I grabbed the box of leftover supplies from that project and brought it. Maybe our kids would want to write some love notes.

Boy, did they ever! They scribbled cute little messages on pieces of construction paper and stealthily hid them throughout the restaurant. One said, “Hi. This note says you are loved.” Left on the toilet paper roll in the men’s room. And Ella wrote one that said, “You might be different, but you’re awesome!” Bree asked, “Can we write jokes? Like ‘I farted?’” Uh, no. “Sorry,” she said. “Salsa gets me going.” Oh, geez. Anyway, the kids tucked their notes between packets of Sweet-N-Low, within the stack of rolled silverware, in the leaves of a potted plant, and other such clandestine locations. By now we were all warming up.

Behind us an employee was totaling a bill on one of those adding machines – you know, the kind with the little spool of paper. Brandy commented that it sounded like a rotary phone. Then we remembered how fun it is to dial a rotary phone. Like when you’re angry, you can really rip that dial (even though it infuriatingly returns at its slow, pre-set speed). You can’t dial angrily on your iPhone. But with the rotary phone, as Brandy pointed out, you have time to think twice about calling someone when you’re angry.

We warmed up there for quite some time, laughing and chatting and stuffing ourselves. The kids played a few rounds of cards, and then an elbow-licking contest occurred. No one won. Meh. When I got home, I didn’t need to climb into the bath. I felt toasty, through and through.

El Charro has three locations: South Main (where we went), East Market Street, and the newest one on Port Republic Road. A sunny spot to warm yourself is never far away.

won’t you take me to funkytown? collins center disco gala.

Posted on October 30, 2012 by junebug

I love playing dress up.

As a kid, I did it a lot. See, my mom has worn the same size clothing for like 60 years, and so when she was 45 and I was 10, she had an impressive wardrobe spanning more than two decades–and two good ones at that… the sixties and seventies. I remember her long dresses and outrageous shoes, and I especially remember putting on every piece of costume jewelry contained in the top drawer of her dresser. Then I’d put Dolly in the stroller and push her around the house–in style.

As luck would have it, I am still the same size as my mom. And as luck would even more have it, she gave me some of those clothes years ago. The rest is gone… to rummage sales, to church clothing drives, and to avaricious neighbors who borrowed and perhaps forgot to return.

While I had my mom’s old 1974 maxi dress with the empire waist, Michael had a hard time scraping together an outfit. Even from his dad’s closet, which surprised me (no offense, Frank). So on Saturday, October 20, we set out on a mission: to find him some funky threads suitable for the Collins Center Disco Gala… which would start in less than four hours.

It didn’t take long. Butterfly collar–check. Garish blazer–check. Pimpish sunglasses–check. Extra-tight pants–check check! And as he put those shiny sunglasses on his face, I could almost hear his pants ripping.

Harrisonburg’s Beyond Restaurant and Lounge was transformed for one evening into Studio 54/The Soul Train when they hosted the 13th Annual Collins Center Disco Gala. People put on their most groovy garments (or some just dressed up and made the rest of us look silly!) for an evening of gettin’ down… but also to raise money for a beloved Harrisonburg organization.

The Collins Center used to be CASA (Citizens Against Sexual Assault). Though they’ve been in operation for more than twenty years, they changed their name in 2007 to honor Shirley Collins, a Harrisonburg resident who died from injuries sustained during a sexual assault back in 1987.

The Collins Center has increased its services and its presence in our community over the years. They provide victims of sexual violence medical, psychological, and legal assistance. They operate several programs dedicated to the prevention of violent crime, and they also help provide mental health services to residents in need. Lastly, their Child Advocacy Center offers treatment to children affected by abuse. The Annual Gala (now in its thirteenth year!) raises money for all these programs and more.

So Brandy donned her funky frock and met us at Beyond at about 6:30 that evening. While the cause is serious in nature, the atmosphere was anything but. Beyond was closed to the public that night but filled with revelers ready to sing and dance and eat in support of the Center. The bar downstairs stayed busy all evening, while servers strolled through with delicious little things on trays. Like chicken curry puffs. And little bitty crab cakes. And cucumbers with stuff.

Upstairs there was more food–a casual buffet of sushi, shrimp, cute little to-go boxes of yummy noodliciousness, and, my favorite–MEATBALLS. And I discovered something new–bacon-wrapped asparagus. Therefore, I learned something new–wrapping foods in bacon is a great way to get your kids to eat them. And, I love anything wrapped in bacon.

As more people arrived, dressed like they just stepped out of an episode of Baretta, Brandy and I started giving them nicknames–like “Sparkly Man,” “Pink and Black Superhero Girl,” and “Denim Leisure Suit Guy.” I wanted to ask him how Tennille was doing. I poke fun, yes, but I haven’t forgotten how I looked that night, trust me.

Upstairs was a silent auction comprised of seriously impressive donations from the event’s seventy-two (!) sponsors. Up for grabs were several paintings, Massanutten lift tickets, a ukelele, two toy baskets, a skateboard and passes to Westover Skate Park, several spa gift certificates, professional photo sessions, cosmetics, and much, much more. Someone had placed the wine baskets, chocolate assortment, and massage gift cards on the same table. I stood there for a little while.

The three of us went in on a $20 raffle ticket for a chance to win a thousand bucks. And there were only a hundred tickets sold, so we had a good chance! We did not win. Eh. Onto the live auction! This part was really exciting. To be honest, I’ve never actually attended an auction before. I’ve seen TV shows like Storage Wars and Auction Hunters, and I can see how easily one can be swept up in the excitement of bidding and beating that other guy over there who keeps trying to outbid me! The items up for bid were worth fighting over. Like the sunflower sculpture by Keith Morris. And the weekend at Snowshoe that fetched $400. Or the four Disney passes that went for $350, a pet portrait session for $275, or Rhoda Miller’s exquisite glass mosaic which brought in $475. People shouted and cheered and held up their numbers… auctioneer Justin Michael would get sooo close to saying “Sold!” and then another hand would go up. It was really quite something to see. Folks went home with some beautiful items and the satisfaction of helping a needed and cherished part of the Burg.

And what else can we say? After that, the music got loud, the dancing got wild, and the pen and camera were put away. Thanks for the memories!

Beyond Restaurant and Lounge is located downtown on Water Street by the garage. The Collins Center is downtown on Main, next to U Made It pottery and Clementine. Should you need them, you can reach them at 540-432-6430.

Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.

free spirits: rocktown wine and dine festival.

Posted on September 17, 2012 by junebug

It was a weeee bit rainy. A tad splashy. A tish bit damp, if you will. And as my hair erupted into its requisite rainy day Ronald McDonald wig of frizz, Brandy arrived with a floaty strapped to her back pack.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“Duh, for FLOATING. Because it’s raining. A LOT.” <eye roll>

I guess I’m so accustomed to it raining at ALL our events that I don’t even think to prepare for it. But others did, too. Like these gals:

And this lady… sort of.

Umbrella casualty.

We might have actually needed that floaty. Not that the three of us could ride on it… but Brandy informed Michael and me that there was even a chance of tornadic activity. Good grief, Auntie Em. “Do you get some kind of alert for every weather situation?” I asked her. She answered, “I get that from my Nanny, okay? I used to call her for the weather.” Awwww… Nanny :)

Anyhoo, at three o’clock on the dot, one could hear a chorus of corks popping against the harmonious backdrop of rain and The Woodshedders, this old-time, bluegrass, jazz-country quintet who warmed things up for us quite cozily. The first Rocktown Wine and Dine Festival had commenced! And with neat-o wine sampling glasses in hand, we were off!

A note of clarification before I delve into all the deliciousness of that afternoon. The Wine and Dine Festival was different from the Beer and Music Festival of last April (and coming again April 20, 2013!!) in that the wine vendors served pairings–samples of a particular wine accompanied by a complementary dish. (Local chefs Alex Fitzgerald and Jon Alley created the appetizers and Brock Cappers from Robins Cellars picked perfect wines for each.) It wasn’t like the Beer and Music Festival where you filled up your mug and wandered around for a bit. It was more like an art exhibit, where you move through the gallery, stopping at each piece and eating/drinking the display. So the three of us, along with everyone else, were under the pavilion for quite some time, sampling the goods at all ELEVEN tables.

Also, as you perused the goods, if there were any (and believe me, there were) wines that you wanted to buy, you could go to the Downtown Wine and Gourmet table, place an order, and then pick up your wine the following Saturday at the shop. And Jay and Amanda offered substantial discounts if you ordered one, three, or five mix & match cases. A lot of people in my life are getting wine for Christmas this year.

Okay, Table One: World Premier Wines. Here we sampled the Paul Cluver Close Encounters Riesling from South Africa… and the Paul Cluver Gewurtztraminer paired with a southwestern chicken egg roll. The spicy egg roll with the crisp, apple-y sweet wine was a lovely start to the afternoon. Thumbs up.

Next was the Robert Kacher table, where we tried the Tariquet Classic–dry and fruity from France–paired with a traditional gazpacho. We also tried their Andre Brunel VDP Grenache, which was refreshing and really reasonably priced.

Frontier Wine Imports offered a grilled chorizo (sausage) with their Senda 66 Tempranillo 2008 from Spain–man was that a good combination. I ate a few of those little spicy things. And might I add, it was at this table that WE FOUND PORT. Aaaaggggghhhhhh <drool>. The Feist Madeira Full Rich Port AND the Feist Tawny Port. From PORTugal. Ha. I think I left that table about ten degrees warmer.

Danielle, servin’ it up.

The fourth table was also a favorite in our little group–Small Vineyards served their Palama Negroamaro with these yummy little shredded pork barbeque sliders. Yowee. It was one of those slow-motion moments: We saw the wine. We saw the sliders. We started over there. People would not get out of the way. And when at last we skidded to the table, the sliders were gone! No worries–we just stood there and waited, and soon another batch arrived, all warm and fresh. We also tried their Tre Donne La Perlina Moscato and their Bibbiani Chianti. At this point we were really digging the festival.

The Avery Quinn table had these shrimp things–money bags, spring rolls, and wontons, along with a very nice California chardonnay. That combo was so good I burned my mouth–twice. We liked that table.

Bluestone Vineyard, one of the hosts of the festival, along with Harrisonburg Downtown Renaissance and Downtown Wine and Gourmet, presented a reeeeallly good cabernet franc ($25-a-bottle good) and one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten in my life: bacon-wrapped sausage bites, rolled in aged chili peppers and sweet brown sugar. I admit that for the rest of the evening, I stalked that table for meat like Hannibal Lecter. I apologize for the creepiness of it. Anyway, Bluestone also debuted their new Moscato at the festival–a sweet, kinda fizzy fruity number. It’s a good thing there were no chairs under the pavilion or we may not have moved for days.

Around this time, the Woodshedders finished up and Chatham County Line took the stage. These guys have been around for thirteen-ish years, from Raleigh, and recently finished up a tour in Europe. Here they were in little old Harrisonburg, providing a warm and lively soundtrack to a now sunny evening.

B&L Brands was a fun table, not only because all their wines were great (and among the three of us, I think we tried them all), but because many of their wines have literary names–like “Foreshadow” and “Bookmark.” The nerd in me appreciates that. They offered Rooiberg Chenin Blanc (South Africa) with assorted cheese.

Vici Wine, our eighth stop, offered several South American wines (Chile and Argentina) including the Oveja Negra Chardonnay/Viognier and the Chilensis Chardonnay, and one from South Africa–the Obwika Moscato–paired with Bananas Foster Bites served with warm caramel sauce. Apparently I wasn’t the only food stalker there because we never did get a bite, and after all that meat I really needed some dessert :) Our friend Seth was working that table:

Cave Ridge and Cross Keys shared a table, which suited us just fine because we love those vineyards. Cave Ridge is the vineyard that runs Wine on Water, which offers tastings daily at its downtown location and houses Cuban Burger; Cross Keys Vineyard is a really great place to visit for a first date or an anniversary or a ladies’ nite out or an after-golf outing. The terrace is beautiful and the view is breathtaking, and if you get a chance to take the tour, you should. We sampled pretty much everything at that table and chatted it up with Katrina and Debbie. The pairing was the Cave Ridge Viognier with assorted fruit, but we also had their Chambourcin and Cabernet Franc. Cross Keys served their Joy White–one of my favorites of all time– and Joy Red, and the luxurious Meritage.

William Harrison Imports had several Argentinian selections and a few from France. And just before my sausage high wore off, they rescued me with a grilled kielbasa with mustard paired with the Don Manuel Malbec, a really hearty, spicy number that was a good end-of-festival selection.

And although we were “stuffed to the collarbone,” we couldn’t say no to the final table of the evening, Castle Rock Winery. Brandy and I sipped on the Mendocino Zinfandel and had gotten really mingle-y, wandering around, chatty and sorta unfocused. But they had a really good appetizer, too–chicken skewers with a tangy molasses barbeque sauce–and after an amount of time I’m just not sure of, Michael emerged from the crowd, marching toward us triumphantly, holding three chicken skewers high over head. We thanked him excitedly and then I, in my haste, stabbed my throat with the skewer.

Time for a break.

Having sampled all the pairings, and feeling quite satisfied, we moseyed to the lawn with our chairs to listen to the band play. We noticed the patch of earth that was torn apart by revelers at the Beer and Music Festival last spring–it was covered with hay to protect the tiny grasslings growing beneath. But it didn’t stay covered long, as an army of small human plows arrived and started making a hay pile. I mean, that’s what you do with hay–you gather it up into a pile. As the kids jumped on the hay pile and shouted and squished their feet in the mucky lawn, one of the band members asked them, “Which one of you is the Lord of the Flies?”

And so we watched the kids. And we listened to Chatham County Line. And Michael decided they needed a sample, too, so he commandeered four glasses and brought them a round. As the singer graciously accepted his wine, he said, “You know, I see a lot of signs that say ‘No bracelet, no wine,’ but… (brandishing his bare wrists)… come get me!” And they played on. Later he said, “Don’t discriminate, my brother. Integrate. That’s why God invented rosé.”

Amen. Let it all mingle–bacon and sausage and shrimp and bananas and cheese and cabernets and merlots and rieslings and zinfandels and mud and skin and hair and clothing and rain. Let it all mingle!

Copyright © 2012 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Photos by Brandy Somers. Written content by Katie Mitchell. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.

thanks a brunch: taste of downtown at clementine.

Posted on August 24, 2012 by junebug

It occurred to me as I parked the car and dashed through the rain with my kids that we’ve had a pretty rainy spring and summer. And I have proof of it right here in these pages. It rained when we covered Bongo Restaurant, it rained A LOT at the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival, and it absolutely poured at First Friday in June at the Yellow Button. It rained at Fridays on the Square with the Judy Chops, and when we visited Cat’s Cradle, and for Blake’s LEGO Art in the Park. The rain just barely held off for the Brew-B-Que and for Art Lotto, but the Caleb Stine show was rainy, and so was our latest adventure. As a teacher, I can only hope this moisture continues and translates into feet of snow this winter. !

We decided to go to Clementine Cafe last Sunday because Taste of Downtown was coming to an end and their brunch deal looked really good: one of three brunch dishes plus a carafe of Bloody Mary or Mimosa for $12. The choices were two eggs cooked to order, a frittata, or a burrito, each with side items. We couldn’t choose, as usual, so we got one frittata–it has avocado–and one burrito–it has spicy yumminess. Plus one of each carafe. And the kids split an order of pancakes. It was all delicious–fresh and cooked perfectly and just the right amount.

We gobbled it down quickly and finished up what the kids left behind. They’d brought along a veritable arts and crafts station, what with scissors, paper, tape, markers–and they worked happily for quite some time, but then they got antsy, and Brandy and I still had lots of chit-chatting to do, so she sent them on a scavenger hunt!

Some of the items they had to find and draw a picture of were
* something blue (a painting called “Jupiter Storms”)
* something green (a skull and crossbones)
* something related to children (some sort of winged, cherub-like angel thing)
* something small (we can’t remember that one, or make out the drawing)
* something related to food but not edible (a blender)
* the names of two people who work there (for this, Bree wrote down “Sit on it!” Ouch!)
* their favorite piece of art (the drawing looks like a fish with giant teeth, but I can’t guarantee that).

That kept them busy and also gave them a chance to explore the place, including the upstairs bathroom. Have you seen it? With its luxurious velvety chair and that sleek sink? That was Bree’s favorite thing in the whole joint. That and the disco ball.

But there’s more about Clementine that we love:
1. The avocado-bacon burger, which is usually what I order when I’m there. It’s the best I’ve ever had, hands down.
2. The portions. They give you just enough food, so that you don’t have to wrap it up or waste it. And then you can enjoy dessert without being “full up to the collarbone.”
3. They use the local-est ingredients they can, and if that means rotating seasonal items in and out of the menu, that’s what they do. Fresh and local are priorities.
4. Music. Between the two of us, Brandy and I have seen zillions of great shows there, from Yarn and Larry Keel and Steel Wheels to Caleb Stine and Andy Friedman and Invisible Hand, and two of my favorite bands I saw first at Clementine: Lake Street Dive and Kopecky Family Band.
5. While we’re on that topic, Brandy appreciates the restaurant’s use of color: the brightly painted stage backdrop unlike no other, and even the use of complimentary colors outside (yellow and purple). Brandy uses a photo of the storefront when she teaches that concept in her art classes.

6. And let’s not forget Ruby’s Lounge downstairs and their awesome specialty nights. Tuesday through Thursday you can find $2 and $3 specials!
7. The beautiful new patio!
8. We also like how they advertise tons of local events and happenings in the lobby. Clearly, they love their burg, too. :)

We finished our carafes and gossip and waited out the rain as long as we could, but it just didn’t seem to stop that day. You can join them for brunch on Sundays from 10 – 3pm. If you don’t want to wait that long, you can come tonight at 9–Chris Howdyshell will be making a bunch of noise with a mess of people… Or Blue Rock on Saturday night… should be pretty fun. See you out and about!

county lines: caleb stine and the honey dewdrops at plan b.

Posted on August 20, 2012 by junebug

We’d last seen Caleb Stine at Clementine with Andy Friedman. He was promoting his intimately straightforward album I Wasn’t Built for a Life Like This. So when we heard he was headed this way again, we made a point to attend–this time at Plan B in Broadway. Okay, so it’s not actually in Harrisonburg, but Plan B is a local business that serves local food and coffee and promotes lots of local music and art. In fact, we covered them once before, when No Strings Attached performed there, remember? Anyway, Plan B has this genius tactic when it comes to booking musicians. They watch for bands that will be passing through this area, traveling from one gig to the next, and they ask them if they’d like to make a stopover in Broadway. They’ve gotten some really great acts with this method, so be sure to keep your eye on the Plan B calendar. Who woulda thought, in little ole Broadway?

As a bonus, Caleb Stine is currently accompanying the Honey Dewdrops on their tour (the new album is called Silver Lining and it’s excellent), so we got to hear some of Caleb’s stuff, some of the Dewdrops’ stuff, and some stuff they’ve collaborated on. The Honey Dewdrops are a folk duo from Charlottesville-ish who’ve released three albums. They’re no strangers to Plan B, having played there a year ago at the grand opening. A variety of stringed instruments (banjo, guitar, mandolin) and their perfectly harmonized voices define their Americana/Appalachia style, but their lyrics reflect the joy and despair of modern life. They somehow manage to sing songs that are both happy and sad at the same time–conveying the beautiful tension of love and life itself. Caleb Stine does the same thing, so it’s no wonder they complement each other.

It was rainy and stormy that night, and I worried the weather might keep people from coming out. My kids and I met Brandy at Plan B at about 7. Caleb and Brandy have a mutual friend in Maryland, so he came right over to catch up with her. Bree and Cal love Caleb’s music, and my daughter wasted no time asking him to please play her favorite song, “Riverside.” With extra hoots, yee hee hees, and haw haws. And can you play it first?

People trickled in, shook out their umbrellas, ordered drinks and took their seats. Employees handed out free popcorn popped in one of those big, old-fashioned movie popcorn machines. The musicians’ suitcases sat on a table modestly displaying their goods for sale.

We settled in at a table in front of the stage and the musicians took to the stage. There was Laura, looking really pretty in a periwinkle dress and cute sandals, and her husband in jeans, a button-down shirt, and endearing bare feet… and Caleb, in a muscle shirt, camo shorts, and Crocs.

Sure enough, he started with “Riverside,” and both kids were mesmerized. I think it took Cal a few seconds to realize we weren’t listening to the iPod. Then his mouth opened and he started to clap… realized he was in a room full of people and started laughing… called Caleb Stine “silly” and then sorta mouthed the rest of the song to himself. When it was over, he tottered off to the toy area. Bree, enthralled, sat with us for several more songs. That’s my girl.

Their next song was Stine’s “No Harm in Being Crazy” from his latest album, in which he lists lots of “crazy” things… dialing 911 “just to talk to someone,” and looking at photos of a previous life, and answering “fine” when someone asks how you’re doing. I guess we’re all a little crazy.

Next they sang several songs from the Honey Dewdrops’ new album and songs they wrote together. One is called “I’m Falling in Love With You,” and I furiously scribbled its breathtaking words: “I’ll keep spinning that mix that you made for my car and that way we’ll be singing together” and “Our love is a newborn, wobbly-legged child–let’s watch as it trots through the heather. You’re a kind-hearted lover and such a good friend and I’m falling in love with you.” <swoon>

At this point, Cal got thirsty from all that popcorn, so he climbed up on a stool at the bar and ordered a water. On the rocks. And back to the toys he went.

After a few more songs, they played “My Service Isn’t Needed Anymore,” another one of those clever, bittersweet, funny/tragic songs at which you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. About how life can turn on a dime… one minute you’re mopping the floor of the grocery store where you work until “something went missin’ from the register drawer, and my service wasn’t needed anymore.” Or you’re enjoying the exhilaration of new love until “something ’bout the way that she closed the door said my service wasn’t needed anymore.” All that time invested for no return, really.

One of my favorite numbers of the evening was called “Together Tied,” one of those happy/sad songs I’ve been talking about that seemed to saturate the experience. The title sounds sweet and happy enough, but lines like “home is just a place you can never get back to” remind us that we don’t appreciate the time we have together until we’re not together, and so when we remember home, we aren’t just recalling things that happened there… we’re remembering what we miss about home and about that period of life. As they put it, “home is in the leavin’, the last words around the table.” The same goes for the song “Happiness,” which, as it turns out, “has got nothing to do with happiness.” I was also touched by the next number, “It’s Hard to Pray,” because Laura’s 87-year-old grandfather (“granddaddy”) memorized it and sang along when she and Kagey visited him recently. It’s a song about faith, about believing and praying even when your prayers aren’t answered.

Then I heard some shouting in the back and realized it was MY KIDS. Oh dear. So at the end of the song, I had to scoot back there and do some shushing and whispered scolding. I told my son, “Honey, you’re not at home.” And I think he, in that moment, realized he was in a public place. “Oh,” he said. “Woops.” It wasn’t too much longer before we left. It was half past eight, the kids are usually in bed by then, and we still had to drive thirty minutes to get home. But we stayed til the end of the first set, and I’m glad, because I got to hear my favorite, “The Eternal Present.” Stine called it his “State of the Union for Yourself” song. It’s another paradoxical song, where he explores the peace of living in the present moment, but also, the loneliness of never putting down roots. You can’t have both, I guess. Still, at the end of the song, he reminds us that “every atom is connected and no one stands alone.” And that certainly helps.

I didn’t get to stay for the second set, but Caleb, Laura, and Kagey had said that it was a special set–cover songs. An entire album. We were intrigued. Who would it be? Led Zeppelin? Bob Dylan? Bob Marley? It turned out to be… The Beatles. I wish I’d seen it. And the crowd perked up, too, as the night wore on. Looks like a lot of hee-hawing and dancing ensued:

The Honey Dewdrops will return to Plan B on September 1st for the cafe’s one-year anniversary, so put on your Crocs and camo shorts and git yer hineys up to Broadway that evening. Plan B is located at 202 N. Main Street, Broadway. Visit soon!

face value: art lotto 2012.

Posted on August 6, 2012 by junebug

I’ve known Brandy Somers a long time, and I know that when she decides to do something, she does it. She doesn’t make promises she can’t keep, and she doesn’t like the feeling of letting anyone down, including herself. I admire her so much for that. So when she hatched this Art Lotto idea, I knew it would be a huge endeavor. I knew it would take countless hours of planning, hard work, late nights, pots of coffee. And, I knew she’d do it. I wasn’t sure how… but then along came Denise Allen. Could you possibly ever ask for a nicer, more pleasant, more positive person to work with? No. Even when it looks like nothing’s going to work out, Denise smiles and laughs and makes it fun again.

So the two of them teamed up, and over the course of ten months (ten months!!), they solicited artists, secured sponsors and donors, made a commercial with the help of Lurid Pictures, collected and catalogued the work, created a yearbooklet with color photos and artist bios, hung the work at their host location, The Artful Dodger, and threw a big party. And I’m sure I left something out of that list. I got the fun task of watching and judging and writing about an art show featuring forty-three (forty-three!!) local artists who created portraits of each other. So, this is my chronicle of a three-day odyssey into the local art scene. Here goes.

DAY ONE: Wednesday, August 1st. Judging.

I made my way to the Dodger at about 12:30 Wednesday to serve as a judge for Art Lotto. Ballot and freshly sharpened pencil in hand, glasses on, I browsed the forty-three portraits hanging starkly on the wall. The simple and well-organized ballot employed a numerical scoring system… easy enough. But as I stood there gazing at those portraits, I felt a paralysis come over me. I heard other customers, who were also visibly impressed by the display, make comments like, “This is unbelievable.” “I can’t believe how great these are.” “What an amazing idea–who came up with this?” and “So powerful–all these faces…”

Moved by Teale Davies’ portrait of Lynda Bostrom, one young man even said he felt inspired to finish his own piece he’s been struggling with.

I tried so hard not to be, but I was moved to slight, restrained tears. There’s something about seeing all those faces together, a silent crowd, the solidarity of all of them–captured and hanging on a wall… stuck together. I hope we’re all stuck together for a very long time.

Of course the collective talent is also overwhelming. Each piece a testament to natural-born skills and years of practice, refinement, frustration, and dedication. But for me it’s how each artist “saw” the other. Because we never see ourselves the way others do. And this might be the first time one of these people looked at himself or herself with tenderness. It’s the wish we all have for our fellow souls–that they might see their own beauty the way others do.

So I regained my composure and started to put my feelings into single digits that fit into tiny boxes. Alas, it had to be done. Thank goodness for math. It decides things for us when we’re too warm and fuzzy to do it ourselves.

DAY TWO: Thursday, August 2nd. Artist/Sponsor/Judge Party!

Finally, after months and months of work and planning and outright panic + nightmares, the evening Brandy and Denise envisioned had arrived. Brandy was a little nervous beforehand that people wouldn’t show up. Puh-lease! Not only had she and Denise planned an event that no one would want to miss, but also, what better way to get a bunch of artists to show up to something than to promise them their own face would be on display? Hee hee :)

Writers can be vain, too. <sigh>

The opening, hosted once again by the Artful Dodger, was quite lively. Nearly all the artists, judges, and sponsors were there, plus their dates, so the crowd easily exceeded a hundred people. All the artists were super-excited to see how the portraits of themselves turned out and to see how their own work was received. To the sounds of DJ Fayo, people mingled and chatted about their experiences and processes, nibbled on light snacks, sipped beverages, laughed and cast their votes for best portrait for an hour or so. Then Brandy and Denise began their presentation, starting with a list of excuses some of the participants gave her for being late with their work:

Ahem, “My work is late because…
“the economy is bad.”
“it took me several days to remember how to paint again.”
“I have caveman Internet.”
“my piece exploded.”
“my cat seriously won’t leave it alone.”
“… of sparklies.” ???

Then they moved on to Art Lotto Superlatives, like Best Hair, Oh Snap!, Smallest Piece (I was glad, because the smallest piece always goes unnoticed), and Herr-ay!, which you automatically got if you were a Herr. Seems like that one’s rigged, but maybe that’s just me.

Next came the awards. These came from judges’ scores, kid judges’ scores, and votes from the artists themselves. This year’s judges include Suzi Carter, Kai Degner, Martin Rees, Vada Kelly, moi, Sherrie Hurt Gordon, Blake Somers, Paul Somers, Ragan McManus, Aaron Ludwig, Valerie Smith, Abigail Kate Garber, and Andy Conner. Pictured below are the award-winning portraits:

Portrait of Anne E. Hogan by Ben Fraits
Winner: Out of Box-ness
______________________________

Portrait of Ben Fraits by Rhoda Miller
Winner: Seeing Double
_________________________________

Portrait of Teale Davies by Denise Allen
Winner: You Got Skillz (tie)
________________________________

Portrait of Cora Cloud by Bruce Rosenwasser
Winner: Show Stopper
________________________________

Portrait of Raechel Hurd by Chris Whitmore
Winner: You Got Skillz (tie)
Winner: Artists’ Choice Award
_____________________________

Portrait of Denise Allen by Lynda Bostrom
Winner: Kids’ Choice Award, female
Winner: Best MediYUM
______________________________

Portrait of Brandy Somers by Luke Watson
Winner: Kids’ Choice Award, male
*Note: this is not the finished product. Updated photo forthcoming.

Check back this week for more photos of additional portraits!!

DAY THREE: Friday, August 3rd. Public Opening!!

In the blink of an eye, Thursday’s party was over and done and First Friday was at bat. I’d had a frenzied day by the time the kids and I got back to the Dodger, but I was nowhere near as pooped as Denise and Brandy. I don’t think those two girls had yet sighed a single molecule of relief or satisfaction. To make matters slightly worse, it looked like it was going to rain any second, and they’d gone to great lengths to set up some kids’ activities on the patio. Still, they pressed on, the rain passed, and the people came in droves.

The event welcomed folks of all ages. Kids could draw with sidewalk chalk, blow bubbles, get their faces painted, or join the coloring contest. Brandy and Denise had made special coloring pages of the Art Lotto sponsors and donors–like one of Miranda Lancaster from The Yellow Button, and one of Chris Clark, and one of Brent Levy and Amanda Garber from Rise. But, sorry–and this is not a comment about Amanda’s appearance, we all know she’s gorgeous–on the coloring page, she looked like Moe Doodle. Just sayin’. <cringe>

Inside, scores of curious pedestrians viewed the portraits, commenting on how different they are from each other, how cool all the portraits look hanging together, and the ridiculous amount of talent in that modest space. My daughter strolled through with her notebook (hello, mini-me), taking notes about her favorite portraits. When we got home that night, she said “Mom, I loved that. I felt like a grownup.” My son said, “I feel like I was at college!” (He’s 5.) I asked him what he meant, and he said, “I just feel a whole lot smarter.” Many of the artists were on hand, too, and the public seemed to enjoy seeing the work of forty-three artists–not just one–in one place. Several of the pieces have sold. If you haven’t been in yet to see these works, go now. The portraits will be up for the month of August, but it’s not something you want to put off. Trust me.

One last note: I would like to personally apologize to anyone who got swindled by pirates at the door. Blake decided to be the “door man” for “tips,” and then Bree and Cal crashed his gig. And with their faces painted like pirates, the three of them hung off the railing and “demanded” money (well, Cal was the one who demanded) from anyone entering or exiting, like some kind of Clockwork Orange-esque gang.

They didn’t get much loot. And I promise, if you ever meet my son in a dark alley, just threaten to tickle him and he’ll back off.

Brandy and Denise have created something fantastic that I hope will become a Harrisonburg tradition. They worked extremely hard, but if you ask them, they will tell you they could not have done it without the support of local businesses and patrons. So, Art Lotto would like to extend special thanks to these Sponsors and Donors for providing food, prizes, and yearbooklets, and for being consistent community supporters:

The Artful Dodger, Mint, The Yellow Button, Dietrich Dental, James McHone Antique Jewelry, Estland Design, VBS Mortgage, Tiller Strings, Rocktown Rollers, Lurid Pictures, Family Talk Magazine, Rise, Happy Dogs Unleashed, B & L Glass and Mirror, Midtowne Market, Wonder, Majomi Bags, Larkin Arts, Arts Council of the Valley, Court Square Coffee, DJ Fayo, Doodle Du Jour, Wonder Records, Last Light Photography, Metamurphosis Design and Photography, Herr Jewels, The Lady Jane, Campbell Copy Center, Polished, Inc., Brandy Somers Photography, SuperGr8, and Wine on Water.

See ya next year!!

**NOTE: Some photos by Danielle Campbell, Rachel Herr, and the artists themselves.

basted, roasted, smoked, and sauced: jacktown’s brew-b-que throwdown.

Posted on August 2, 2012 by junebug

The day started ominously. It was rainy that July morning and unusually cool. I remember because it was the morning of Art in the Park with Blake Somers and LEGOs. (By the way, he is still collecting LEGO donations, and he won’t stop until he has enough for his sculpture, so now’s as good a time as any to give him some.) And, we all remember Harrisonburg’s last beer fest back in April… who can forget that downpour and the nature-made slip-n-slide? Would Jacktown’s Brew-B-Que Throwdown suffer the same messy fate?

Thankfully, no. At least, by the time we got there it was warm and sunny and all shades of happy. The event took place in the lot next to Jack Brown’s. For a mere $10 admission, you got a beer (provided by Abita) and a plate of food–pork butt, chicken wings, or pulled chicken. If you wanted more, you could purchase more wooden nickels.

Folks were eating and drinking, playing corn hole, hula hooping, and dancing to a reggae band, Inner Visions. I liked them. They were so positive and smiley.

We ran into lots of folks we know, starting with Jake Melvin, who recently returned from Belize and who’s been a nomad of sorts for quite some time. He’s been to forty-nine state, and when we asked which one he’d not visited, he replied, “The one that’s not attached.” To which Brandy and I simultaneously blurted, “Alaska!”

Turns out it was Hawaii. I always forget about that little guy, all tucked away in the middle of the Pacific.

Then this bizarre “Six Degrees of Brandy and Katie” thing occurred, starting with Shannon Dean, whom we work with. Then we saw former BHS students Katrina Hudy and Daniel Mumbauer. You might know Katrina from Wine on Water where she works as a manager. We did a post about them not long ago. Daniel and I commiserated for a bit about always being remembered as the tall one… “You know, she’s that tall girl…” I get that a lot. Then we ran into Phil Carr, who graduated high school with Brandy. What you might not know is that I was a long-term substitute for Brandy’s twelfth-grade English class. Phil Carr was in that class, too. And when the regular teacher returned from maternity leave, the class presented me with a cake that said, “Get The Hell Out.” It was really touching. And delicious.

there’s sassy Shannon, what with her wedges and her wrist band pushed up! :)

phil and friends.

And then we saw someone who seemed so familiar… he knew Jeremiah Jenkins, whom we also know… and I threatened to refer to him in this post as Nicodemus Schmidt if he didn’t just tell us his name already. Tim. And then when we told him where we work, it all fell into place. Turns out we work with his dad, Jim Peters. Tim was instantly mortified and begged us not to tell his dad that he’d said a couple bad words. Heh heh. School’s back in in a couple of weeks, my friend! :)

we know your dad!

All this socializing was making me hungry, so we gobbled down some wings with blueberry sauce and pulled chicken with buffalo sauce. YUM. All locally sourced and very fresh. And we listened to the band and chatted, and before long it was all over.

Thank you, Aaron and Jeremiah and the Jacktown staff for an evening of succulent food and mellow music, interesting conversations and weird coincidences. Can’t wait to do that again, so plan something soon, will ya? Before it gets cold.

serving up simple: jack brown’s beer and burger joint.

Posted on July 30, 2012 by junebug

It was an unplanned outing. If fact, we were already “outing” when I had an attack of burger desire so severe that we had to march straight to Jack Brown’s Beer and Burger Joint.

The place is usually pretty busy, partly because it’s small, yes, but also because it’s a great place. So my burgerdesire attack nearly turned into a panic attack when we saw no available seats at the bar or unoccupied tables. Thankfully, a kindhearted fellow named Phil must’ve sensed my desperation and invited us to sit at his table. The Friendly City :)

Jack Brown’s serves hamburgers, cheeseburgers, several specialty burgers (like the Chiflet, the Elvis, and the Greg Brady), fries, and of course, their legendary fried Oreos. Did I say beer? Oh, yes, and beer. The special that day: The Big Jack. I ordered it with a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. Brandy had a Paulaner and the Shocker–an innocuous-looking little number with jalapenos on it.

crinkle fries always make me smile and think of my first grade teacher.

The Big Jack has two patties, ample cheese, and lots of sauce. It’s one of those “can’t put it down burgers,” because if you do, you look like a 15-month-old in a high chair trying to pick that messy thing back up.

Here are some things we love about Jack Brown’s:
1. It’s simple. They manage to offer 100+ beers accompanied by a simple menu of burgers. This clearly shows they have their priorities straight. If you want wings, you can walk two doors south to their sister restaurant, Billy Jack’s Wing and Draft Shack.
2. The disco ball that hangs in a space with no room to dance. Unless you dance on the bar. And maybe that’s how all those bras got up there.

3. Expensive wallpaper. Har har.

4. The Utfart sign that hangs near the restroom. And maybe there is an exit back there (“utfart” is Swedish for “exit”), but it makes more sense for it to mean “restroom.” I traveled to Europe a couple of times and I can’t tell you how many times I saw the utfart sign and thought it was a restroom. Silly Americans. I’m 40 and I still giggle at the word “fart.” Geez.

Jack Brown’s with its cozy interior and mellow patio is a good choice for lunch, dinner, or an obscure beer variety. Not to mention their 100-Notch Club and frequent FIELD TRIPS to Virginia breweries. !!! Visit them at 80 South Main Street, Harrisonburg. They’re open 11am to 2am daily.

shackin’ up in the ‘burg no. 28: billy jack’s.

Posted on June 21, 2012 by junebug

Sometimes you just want WINGS.

And the last time that happened to me, I found myself sitting on a wooden stool at Billy Jack’s Wing and Draft Shack. I’m not really sure how I got there, but who cares? I’m glad I did.

Here’s the thing about eating wings. Once you start, you really can’t stop for any reason. You have to continue on til they’re gone. Why?
1. They’re just that delicious. I had the Classic Buffalo, and Brandy had the Sticky Sweet Chili sauce. (By the way, they use only fresh, never frozen, locally sourced chicken. So there.)
2. It’s dangerous. If you take your attention away from the task for even a second, you could get wing sauce in your eye, and then you’ve just ruined the whole experience, haven’t you?
3. Manners. Let’s face it–eating wings is kinda gross. Best to plow through that messy, sauce-on-face, skin-stuck-in-teeth ordeal quickly and do one big finger-licking session at the end.

One thing I’ve learned from this blog gig is patience. Because Brandy is always taking my beer away to photograph it. Maybe I should order a “dummy beer” for her to photograph so I can hold on to mine. (Mine!!) Not to mention the delayed food gratification I must also endure. The mouth-watering aroma of buffalo wings wafts upwards from the steaming plate…only to be snatched away by Brandy before I can make a mess of it. On this day she had to build a little barricade of stools, tidy up the surrounding area, search out the perfect light, and climb up on another stool (by this time I was ready to chew my own arm off) arrange the plates just so, and snap the picture.

Sheesh! Sometimes you just want WINGS. just kidding :)

While I’m partial to Classic Buffalo, Billy Jack’s has many sauces to choose from, like Habanera “Shocker” and Thai Peanut, plus other indulgences like Fried Chicken and Waffles, Loaded Fries, Doughnuts, and a Fried PB&J. I think they’ve officially proved that you can fry anything. In fact, now that I think about it, the whole place is based on cravings.

In addition to the food (and the beer, of course), it’s an interesting little joint. Where do Aaron and Patrice get all these awesome knick-knacks?? I love the firefly-in-a-jar chandelier. And the colander lamps. And all those doors.

You can drop by Billy Jack’s on S. Main downtown, right across from Dave’s Taverna. They’re open Sunday through Wednesday 11 am til 12 midnight, and Thursday through Saturday 11 am til 2 am. That’s plenty of time to eat your weight in wings. But get in there soon before the June specials are gone!

harrisonburg hightailing no. 23: valley 4th run promo party.

Posted on May 29, 2012 by junebug

Harrisonburg is so awesome that Brandy and I will never run out of material for this blog. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we feel–not as bloggers, but simply as citizens–a slight pressure at times because there are soooo many things to do here–some are well-established traditions, and some are fledgling endeavors–all spearheaded by super creative, ambitious people and attended by an active and supportive community. And that’s the formula right there: ideas + support = action. We have a lot of “action figures” in this town.

A week ago, Brandy and I and the four kiddos attended a promo party at Capital Ale House for a brand-new Harrisonburg event, the Valley 4th Run. Also in attendance were Anna and Greg Pelletier with their sweet baby boy (I was so glad to hold that little bugger. He’s adorable, and cuddling an infant every once in a while quells my impulse to have another of my own.) In fact, there were lots of people with kids at the promo party, so I didn’t feel too awkward about mine being there… until the bartender had to tell them to quit running around so much. Eeeek. Brandy and I herded them into the empty room adjacent to us so no one else would have to witness their naughtiness.

adjacent room antics.

I was starving, so we sat down with a beer and an appetizer. Live music was provided by Colin Wright and his guitar. We later learned that he’s part of a group called Doctors Without Borders, and he was in the ‘burg for just a few days between assignments (another H’burg action figure). Anyway, we nibbled, enjoyed the music, and mingled with some of the many folks who came in to sign up for the Run.

We also got to chat with one of the Valley 4th Run action figures, Kevin Gibson. Created by Kevin, Alan Maynard, Jackie Walsh, Marcus Bartley, and Laura Babcock, the Valley 4th Run offers area runners three distances–one mile, 5K, or 10K–and five charities to choose from: Harrisonburg Downtown Renaissance; Harrisonburg/ Rockingham United Way; DR 100; Rockingham/Harrisonburg SPCA; and the RMH Foundation.

Kevin Gibson, Action Figure.

All of the races are contained in the area between the monument in front of Harrisonburg Baptist Church, and Chanello’s Pizza, near the Local Chop and Grill House. Here’s a map of the routes if you want more detail. Kevin plans to line the routes with four or five local bands, encouraging fans, and maybe even some cheerleaders. If you’d like to help with sideline activity, contact Kevin–I’m sure he’d appreciate the volunteers. The race ends at Turner Pavilion, just in time for Beers ‘N Cheers in the Park (race participants get a beer and hotdog ticket!), AND, if you want to make a day of it downtown, you can stick around for the Valley 4th parade and fireworks! Could you even imagine a better day in Harrisonburg? Geez–it’s almost too awesome. So this Fourth of July, get out of the rat race and run for someone else’s life that day. Let’s make this event a Harrisonburg tradition!

gettin’ pumped.

running is good for you.

down by the river no. 22: riven rock park.

Posted on May 27, 2012 by junebug

Like I’ve said before, something strange always happens.

It was a spur-of-the-moment plan. The air was thick, and the day was hotter than two cats fighting in a wool sock. Still a week before Westover Pool opens, and the kids and I were craving water. The sprinkler–even the fancy one with twelve settings–just wasn’t gonna cut it.

So I decided to take the kids to Riven Rock Park for a cool dip in the river. I texted Brandy, and she agreed to meet us there with Blake and Ella after they finished up at a friend’s birthday party. We got there first. The park was busy. Not overly crowded, but lively. Lots of families with the same idea.

So you’ve read a few paragraphs now and might be wondering, “Where the heck are the photos??” Well, you see… about that…

Brandy and her kids arrived. We saw them pull in and ran to greet them. And amidst the hugs “hello” and the retrieval of bags and towels and such from her car, she–woopsie–locked her keys and phone (a.k.a, the “river camera”) in the trunk. You KNOW that oh-my-gosh-i’m-a-complete-idiot-i-can’t-believe-i-just-did-that feeling. We’ve all had it. In fact, one time I flushed all my keys down a public toilet. It SUCKS, that feeling. Then she remembered her spare key, tucked up under the car somewhere. See? It pays to think of these things. Only the key was severely eroded and bent, and it nearly broke off in the door lock (but it didn’t, thank heavens!), and so we were back to that horrible hyphenated feeling. <sigh> Seeing as how we were all there, and the kids were dying to get in the water, and even with my phone we couldn’t have called anyone because we were out of cell range, and it was just too darn hot to stand there and worry about it, we decided to enjoy some time there and deal with it later.

Our first plunge into the frigid water involved lots of slipping and falling and shrieks and giggles. For some reason that now escapes my memory, we decided to cross the river (not very wide, maybe thirty feet, and only shin deep), and I swear it took half an hour to help four kids teeter across. Then–yep–we had to go back across. Still, along the way we saw a crawdad or two and some minnows, and we were refreshed by the cool water, the warm sun, and the beautiful surroundings. After that tiring endeavor, we got out and hiked up the trail a bit. On the way back down, Brandy spotted a place where a calm, three-feet deep pool had formed, surrounded by nice trees and rock formations and some mild rapids downriver from us. Blake and Bree jumped right in and were able to swim around. Cal is a bit short and couldn’t touch the bottom, so I hauled that fifty-pound boy up on my hip and used a giant stick (a branch, really) to balance myself on the slippery river bottom. We were going along just fine until Cal got wiggly, and I got slightly off kilter and lost my footing… and then lost one flip flop… and then lost my stick. By now Cal had practically climbed on top of my head to get to safety, but thankfully, my feet found a grip and we were all fine. Sheesh.

So it was time to finally deal with the car situation… the kids were tired and starving (and the adults, too), and we’d all had enough sun. The car thing turned out to be no big deal at all. We piled into my car and drove back into cell phone range, called AAA, let the kids play on a playground while we waited (not long at all), drove back to the park, got the car unlocked, swung by Beyond for some sushi (by the way, I realized on the way to Beyond that I was wearing a bikini top and a wet skirt. Woops. I actually called to see if they just wanted to meet me in the street, but they were cool with it.), picked up some pizza, came back to my house and enjoyed a very much deserved feast on my deck. Hence, these photos–the only proof you have that any of this actually took place.

okay, so imagine we are standing on the bank of the river, and not on my front porch.

sooooo freakin’ hungry.

gone in like ten minutes.

a warm spring evening on the deck.

all that worry and sweat and she’s still this pretty.

konked out before she even got home.

So, you’ll have to visit Riven Rock Park and see for yourself. Just be careful not to lock yourself out of your car, slip on the rocks, or lose your stick. But even if you do, it’ll still be a great day.

the happiest place on earth no. 21: rocktown beer and music festival.

Posted on May 22, 2012 by junebug

It was a day of music, singing, and dancing; of froth and foam and cheers-ing; of sideways rain and tropical-storm winds gusting; of sunshine and warmth and rainbows shining; of laughter and smiles and happy loving; of food and friends and mud-stained frolicking… it was, quite simply, a perfect day. The most wonderful day of the year. The day of the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival.

From 2:30 til 9pm on April 21st, throngs of music-loving, beer-craving people of all ages, from tiny tots to retirees, college girls and frat boys to yuppies, hippies, parents, and all the rest, assembled at the Turner Pavilion to sample beer from 30 breweries, hear music from Yarn, the No BS! Brass Band, and The War on Drugs, and nibble freshly prepared dishes from the Joshua Wilton House, Jack Brown’s, Dave’s Taverna, Billy Jack’s, Clementine, and Hank’s Barbeque.

Having purchased our tickets ahead of time (the event sold out earlier that week), getting into the festival was a snap and much more efficient than last year (not that last year was inefficient… just sayin’). While we were still in line in front of the municipal building, volunteers came along and checked our IDs, took our tickets, and installed our wristbands.

The gates opened and everyone just walked in, easy-peasy. We received our mugs and programs and although we both wanted to make a bee line to the beer vendors, we decide to lug our stuff to the grass and get set up. We knew the weather forecast; at this point it was sunny and gorgeous, and Brandy wanted to take as many photos as she could before the rain came.

The No BS Brass Band was on first, and although I really didn’t know much about them before the festival, I really really liked them. Especially the number that sounded like something the Ladies Man might sing to a lady friend over a glass of courvoisier. I also enjoyed the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “The Ocean.”

Next up was Yarn, and it was during this performance, if I’m not mistaken, that the rains came. People go absolutely crazy for Yarn. The band is so happy and high energy, people just start moving and spinning around, almost like a flash mob. There they all are, innocently milling around, and at the first note by Yarn, everyone’s in front of the stage boogying down.

We watched as clouds ominously advanced. We were armed with extra clothes, a rain jacket, and two umbrellas. Other things to remember to bring or wear to an all-day festival: chapstick. Sunscreen. A hat. Comfy underpants. Eh. Anyway, when the rain started, we decided (I forget why) to stay in our seats on the lawn. Brandy stuffed her camera under her shirt (the lens hung out the bottom and it was kinda funny looking–hee hee!) and we huddled under umbrellas in our seats. Brandy couldn’t resist sneaking the camera out a few times to take some shots of how ridiculous the rain was. I mean, we were drenched. Wringing wet.

I remember screaming. It was somehow raining upwards, under the umbrellas. And then we finally decided to run under the pavilion with the other 2998 people. It was packed. I remember thinking, “Man, the fire marshal would NOT like this.” Except that we were outside. And it was raining.

Snakes of people slithered through the crowd to reach beer vendors for a refill. This is where trust becomes important. In any situation involving crowds and a small space, I usually wonder how long it’ll be before someone goes psycho and causes some kind of ruckus. But here, in our friendly city, nothing like that occurred. Everyone was patient and happy and kind, and polite–lots of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s and “woopsie”s, and one girl who kept repeating the word “willow” to us. We tried so hard to understand what she meant so we could help her or answer her.

Then, because we were wet, we were cold. Rachel Jenner and Brandy had to help me figure out how to put on a shirt under my wet shirt, and leggings on under my soaked skirt, without completely disrobing in front of everyone. I never would have accomplished it without them. At any rate, the rain stopped, the music continued, the beer flowed, and we were all warm and fuzzy again before too long. And you know? When there’s a mud puddle nearby, everyone becomes the same age: four and a half. Brandy and I did not slide belly down through the mud ~~puddle~~ pool (although we did let our feet get quite squishy), but we loved watching everyone else get down and dirty. We saw children splashing and dancing in the mud; we witnessed the destruction of many gorgeous sundresses worn by young women who lost their footing; we watched a grandma fall allll the way down, onto her back, and still get up and keep dancing with the grandkids! We loved it! Every single moment, every droplet of mud, every smile and person there… we loved it all. Our city.

By now, The War on Drugs had hit the stage. What a treat they were. They were a great pick-me-up for weary revelers, re-energizing the crowd as the sun went down. Honestly, all three bands were fantastic, and the combination of bands couldn’t have been better. Just before sundown–a rainbow. Can I get a “hallelujah”?!

Later as we walked to the Nile to see Cinnamon Band, we talked about the day–the people, the fun, the spirit, and yes–the beer. What did we like best about the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival? Everything. Everything.

Already looking forward to next year! Stay tuned all week for more photos from the Fest!

beers, burgers, and broads no. 17: capital ale house.

Posted on May 2, 2012 by junebug

Not everyone knows this, but I struggle sometimes when making decisions. This is why I hate to shop–I love everything and it’s hard for me to choose. I’ve gone to shoe stores and tried on twenty pairs, only to walk out empty-footed. I’ve had eight paint samples taped to my living room wall for two years. Recently I had to buy a TV to replace my old, broken Sony, and the only thing that saved me from complete paralysis was that the store was closing in twenty minutes and I had to decide.

So when presented with the beer menu at Capital Ale House, I felt a smidge overwhelmed. You can see it here–it’s a freakin’ PDF, for Pete’s sake. Thankfully, it’s organized by type of beer, so as not to make my party wait thirty minutes while I read every word, I went straight to the IPA department and chose Devil’s Backbone. Very nice. Brandy ordered an Allagash and we were on our way. Crisis averted.

The charming and hospitable Griffin Johnson delivered our brews and told us a bit about the place. We had a minor debate about whether we could truly call it a “local” business–that is the focus of this blog, after all–but, as the restaurant originated in Richmond ten years ago, and as we liked it an awful lot, and as we’d already ordered beer and taken photos, we decided it was local enough. Turns out there are three other locations: Innsbrook, Midlothian, and Fredericksburg, all opened after the original downtown Richmond store. At our Capital Ale House, you can also make use of their banquet space, darts and billiards, and rooftop deck.

While we waited for our food, Brandy asked Griffin if she could get some exclusive shots of the heart of the establishment: the coveted Keg Room. Griffin replied, “Oh, yeah. I’ll take you back there.” Rowl. No, not because Brandy was alone with the charming and hospitable Griffin, but because she got to be alone with ALL THOSE KEGS.

The food arrived and it was delicious. Brandy had the Smokehouse Chicken Burger, which draped abundantly over its bun, and I had the Baja Burger, which I affectionately renamed “Guac-a-Mobile.”

I love guacamole and any vehicle that delivers it to my mouth. It was so good, I laughed: “BAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA!” Oh, dear. Actually, it was so good that we got window-stalked by a couple of passersby. What are YOU lookin’ at??

Just kidding. We know them.

And just when we thought we were wrapping up our evening at Capital Ale House, the lovely Sarah Murphy appeared and joined us.

So we ordered another round and, after much lively conversation, found ourselves hungry again and shared this giant piece of chocolate cake.

And by the end of the outing, I was feeling quite smitten, with my friends and the conversation we shared, with the warm radiance of the bar and my full belly, with the sin of chocolate cake, with my sweet city, and with that glorious keg room.

Thank you, Capital Ale House. We’ll see you again soon. That’s an easy decision to make.

terminally harrisonburg no. 11: union station.

Posted on March 27, 2012 by junebug

Katie and Jen

You know how it is when winter starts to lift. You’ve finally taken down the Christmas decorations, just in time for St. Patty’s day; daylight streams into your house at a different slant and intensity; your kids have been bickering for weeks, having been cooped up with each other since October; and you’re going crazy. That’s how it was a couple of weeks ago for Brandy, Jen, Danielle, and me. When I drove away from the sitter’s house on that chilly but bright afternoon, I breathed a sigh of relief that stretched across the entire city. An evening with the girls–finally! Even if only til 7pm. Even better, it happened to be Harrisonburg’s Taste of Downtown week. This glorious event in Harrisonburg provides an opportunity to try local cuisine–lunch and/or dinner–for seven days in a row and snag some really good deals. Right now, while you’re thinking about it and before you read any further, mark your calendar for August 12 – 18–the next Taste of Downtown week.

We decided on Union Station. They were offering a specialty burger (a different one each night of the week) served on a frisbee plus four 4-ounce draft beers, all for $12. $12!!! (They offer this special every Monday, by the way, but I can’t guarantee which burger they’ll feature.) The specialty burger this night had Girls’ Night Out written all over it: a patty topped with spinach, feta, and tomato. And we got to choose which four beers we sampled. That evening they offered Stella Artois, Dogfish IPA, Hoegaarden, Weeping Radish, Jefferson Reserve, Brooklyn Lager, and Legend Lager.
The beers were served on cute wooden paddles, which took me back to my elementary school days. Ah, public school in South Carolina. My second grade teacher–yes, YOU, Mrs. Ross–paddled me one day for sharpening my pencil without asking permission. In my defense, it was my FIRST DAY of school in South Carolina, having recently moved from New Jersey, and I didn’t know the pencil sharpening policies. Nor had I ever seen a paddle in my life. You can imagine my surprise when she came up behind me and hit me with that thing–I scraped my forehead on the pencil sharpener, screamed “STOP KILLING ME!” and ran like some kind of wild animal up and down the hall, just trying to get OUT OF THAT CRAZY PLACE. My dad had to pick me up early… it was a mess. Years later, Mrs. Ross moved into my neighborhood. I bet there’s STILL toilet paper hanging from her trees. Nevertheless, I went back to school the day after that fiasco, and here I am today. Ta-da! Anyway, that memory faded as the beer glasses emptied and our conversation turned to other topics. Girl topics. Like that show The Biggest Loser. How much Jillian Michaels scares us, how no one liked that one blonde trainer (Kim Lyons), and how Bob is just awesome.
At this point my memory gets blurry and my notes sparse… apparently I said a few embarrassing things you won’t read here. That’s the advantage of being the writer, see? When I say something stupid, it doesn’t get recorded. I vaguely remember Brandy saying something like, “I wish I was writin’ this crap!” Sorry. Heh heh! But when I got home, I found spinach in my teeth. Ah, karma.

Then “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac came on, and I thought of my dad, and then there were some tears. And Jen nearly broke her glass. Finally Cassie Baker–owner of Union Station–came over and organized our conversation.

Katie, Danielle, Jen, and Cassie
(Brandy's behind the lens)

When Cassie bought the property, she spent some time researching its history and wanted to do all she could to preserve that history for her clientele. She certainly succeeded there. Not only is the building beautifully renovated with many architectural details of the 1930s and 40s, but the servers at the restaurant provide brief lessons about certain historical landmarks around the city. Union Station was the name of a train depot built by B&O in 1911. It was actually located where the jail now stands. The Wetsel Seed Company purchased the property in 1944 and retained ownership of it until eminent domain rendered it city property in 1991. If you’ve not been there, it’s truly a beautiful restaurant, with a large dining area, an ample bar, a cute backroom, and a new banquet room that can seat 65.

dining room

We couldn’t leave without asking about the big math error in that back room.

1991 - 1911 does not = 89.

Cassie told us it was just a joke left by the painters, long ago.

It was nearing seven o’clock and we all had to get back to our real lives. We were so silly that evening we knew we had tons of ridiculous photos to share with you all. That reminded us of the photo of Brandy and me at Beyond in which Brandy thinks she looks like a man (puh-lease!), and I feel I have too much flesh between my sternum and my chin. What is it with my excessive neck-y-ness?? Ugh! Jen sternly told me, “Oh, Katie, that’s just your throat!” Well, that doesn’t make it any better, friend. So, thanks for reading and not looking (click here and scroll all the way down). And for the rest of this week, we’ll feature more photos we wish didn’t exist.

Union Station is located on the corner of Liberty and Market Street (Rt. 33) in downtown Harrisonburg. See you there soon!

sushi and the city no. 5: beyond.

Posted on March 3, 2012 by junebug

I’ve been trying to keep this under wraps, but I can’t live with this secret any longer. I’ve got a clandestine obsession… an addiction almost… to meatballs. And not just any. It’s those saucy, spicy, cute little teriyaki and pineapple meatballs at Beyond. On their menu, they’re called simply “Meatballs.” They should be called “Holy-Moly-I-Could-Eat-Ten-Orders-Of-These-Things Meatballs.” That’s just my opinion.

Brandy and I frequent this place… well, frequently, and not just for the food. I mean, the sushi (and meatballs) is the number one reason we go, but there are other reasons: birthday parties, bachelorette parties, revenge parties, and good ole’ girl talk. In fact, on this particular evening, we sorta forgot our purpose for going—this post—and fell into our usual Beyond habits—talking, sharing, laughing, and eventually crying… which ALWAYS happens. Not sure why, but I think it has to do with sharing food. Their menu is broad and varied—there’s truly something for everyone—but it also contains many items that are easily shareable. So there’s a sense of commune in that place, of being one with the food and the people and the surroundings… very Zen, if I may say so. And so there we were, eating and catching up with each others’ lives, taking few photos and notes. Sure, it’s less material for the blog, but it’s more material for our friendship.

Angry Salmon

We ordered the Curry Puffs—really delish; the Meatballs—I ate them all before Brandy even uncapped the lens (sorry); and two rolls: the Dukes and the Angry Salmon, both of which are excellent. We also like the White Knight, the Danny roll, and Japanese Breakfast. When the food arrived, we also ended up with the Rainbow… we’re not sure why, but let’s just call it karma. That’s a lot of food for two small people, and I was ready to curl up under the bar and take a little nappy-poo.

The Rainbow

To drink I had a Fat Tire Amber draft and Brandy had a Blue Moon, which is what she orders when there’s no Juju Ginger beer. Now, it’s not Beyond’s fault—Juju is one of those “limited production” seasonal beers, and when it does make it to the burg, you’ve gotta be pretty sly to get to it before Brandy. To Beyond’s credit, they did go to extra-great lengths to have it on hand for her birthday party last June.

The highlight of the evening was hearing Dan sing The Cranberries song “Zombie” every time he made that drink. “… what’s in your head? in your head? zombie, Zombie, ZOMBAY-AY-AY!” Thanks for the ear worm, Dan. Just kidding. We love ya!

Beyond is located on Water Street across from Shank’s Bakery. Oh, and here’s the recipe for a Zombay-ay-ay:

1/2 oz Bacardi® 151 rum
1 oz pineapple juice
1 oz orange juice
1/2 oz apricot brandy
1 tsp sugar
2 oz light rum
1 oz dark rum
1 oz lime juice

here’s to the burg no. 4: downtown wine and gourmet

Posted on February 28, 2012 by junebug

Despite what Jay says, I don’t think I’ve been to a wine tasting at Downtown Wine and Gourmet that wasn’t hoppin’. Brandy and I were hard pressed to get there by 7, when the free tasting technically ends—arriving by a narrow margin of eight minutes—but it looked far from over to us. What Jay meant was that the closing of Callie’s temporarily (and imperceptibly, to me) decreased traffic in the store, but now that the Capital Ale House is open, all’s well. Folks waiting for a table at the Ale House, as well as the general public, can, from 5 – 7pm on Fridays, moisten their palates with a fine sampling of featured wines at the wine shop. People always linger beyond 7, and no one’s gonna yank the glass out of your hand.

Owned by Jay and Amanda Monger, Downtown Wine and Gourmet is located in the Court Square Theatre building. They’re not just a wine shop, despite the cork floors and merlot-colored walls. They also sell cheese and other gourmet foods, coffee, brewing supplies, and a fine, FINE assortment of beer. Mm. Mm. Mm!

So… we tasted: Chateau De Fontenille White Bordeaux—delish. Kanu Chenin Blanc—delish. Vina Borgia Garnacha in a BOX (now we’re talkin’!). And Hendry HRW Zinfindel, which was a bit dry for me… but only because as I’ve aged, I’ve somehow become a thirstier person. Oh yes, and one “contraband” offering. Wait, did I type that or just think it? Woopsie.

Sean was our pourer—very friendly, thorough, and knowledgeable, even about each wine’s aroma… which I admit sorta fell on deaf ears (noses?) because I don’t wanna smell my wine—I wanna DRINK IT.

During our tasting we ran into the always delightful Tony Lopez of the local improv group No Strings Attached. Note to self: do a piece on them. That’s another great thing about the wine tasting: you run into folks you know, and then it’s like you’re at this fabulous cocktail party, minus the little black dress and pantyhose that keep getting twisted. And staticky.

Anyhow, I had to browse the beer while I was there (where you can build your own six-pack, and every time you do, you think, “I have created the best six-pack EVER!” until the next week when you top yourself. It’s quite a boost to the self-esteem.). It’s fun to peruse the beer section because of the labels. I know, I know—never judge a beer by its label, but when it features really great art, it’s pretty much irresistible. One of our faves is Flying Dog, whose labels feature art by Ralph Steadman (friends with George Stranahan and Hunter S. Thompson). See how educational this is? I mean, come on, people.

And that’s when we saw it: BACON AND MAPLE BEER. Breakfast beer! That ranks right up there with the purse closet at Granny Longlegs and Sunday brunch at the Grill. Hmmmm… brunch beer? And by the way, Downtown Wine and Gourmet hosts a free beer tasting every Saturday from 1 – 4pm.

Whether you need beer, wine, gourmet foods, coffee, or even handmade gift baskets, Downtown Wine and Gourmet has it all, and their laid-back, knowledgeable staff is more than happy to help you. Catch you there this Friday… and, why not, Saturday, too. <clink!>

i love my burg.

happiness is harrisonburg shaped.

Tag Archives: beer

happy burgthday to us! : indian american cafe.

winter thaw: el charro.

won’t you take me to funkytown? collins center disco gala.

free spirits: rocktown wine and dine festival.

thanks a brunch: taste of downtown at clementine.

county lines: caleb stine and the honey dewdrops at plan b.

face value: art lotto 2012.

basted, roasted, smoked, and sauced: jacktown’s brew-b-que throwdown.

serving up simple: jack brown’s beer and burger joint.

shackin’ up in the ‘burg no. 28: billy jack’s.

harrisonburg hightailing no. 23: valley 4th run promo party.

down by the river no. 22: riven rock park.

the happiest place on earth no. 21: rocktown beer and music festival.

beers, burgers, and broads no. 17: capital ale house.

terminally harrisonburg no. 11: union station.

sushi and the city no. 5: beyond.

here’s to the burg no. 4: downtown wine and gourmet

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