Pie Case of the Gods

Fall isn’t complete in the Pastry household without a trip to west-central Indiana and the Covered Bridge Festival. Few people know it, but it’s Parke County, Indiana and not Madison County, Iowa that is the real covered bridge capital of America. The fact that no one’s every made a sappy movie about Parke County starring Meryl Streep is big point of pride there. They’ve got over 30 covered bridges, but then who am I kidding? The only reason I go is for the food.

For ten days every October the courthouse lawn in the county seat (Rockville, Indiana) is covered with ramshackle concession stands, each offering its own specialty. There are giant kettles of white beans and ham hocks:

…”whole hog” sausage sandwiches…

…crullers…

…corn fritters…

…apple and pumpkin butter…

…plus steaming bowls of fresh-fried chicken gizzards, fresh squeezed cider, cups of chicory coffee and pork chop sandwiches. I’ve been going there since I was a kid, and back then there was a chicken barbecuing operation that stretched an entire block. Charcoal fires with iron grates were lined up next to each other for probably 50 yards, and skinny old men in coveralls pumped barbecue sauce onto the poultry with converted pump-action pesticide sprayers. That was good eatin’, friends.

All that said, the culinary crown jewel of the Covered Bridge festival is the little town of Tangier, Indiana (population: next to nobody). Every fall the locals convert a multipurpose community/Boy Scout/VFW hall into one of the hottest dining spots in Indiana. The specialty of the house: buried beef.

What is buried beef you ask? It is nothing less than cuisine à la Caterpillar. The cooking vessel is a fifteen by three-and-a-half foot trench in the ground and the only implement is a backhoe. A wood fire is lit in the trench and allowed burn down to embers. At that point a layer of sand goes in, then packet after packet of tin foil-wrapped beef brisket. The whole thing gets covered with dirt and left to cook overnight. What emerges the next day is serious-good, slow-cooked meat that they serve up on buns, cafeteria style:

But that’s not the best part. Because no visit to Tangier is complete without a trip to the dessert case, which is a national monument to the art of pie-making.

Inside it, the fruits of months of little-old-lady labor are on display. There are slices of the classics of course: apple, pumpkin, cherry and pecan. Yet depending on when you get there you’ll find elderberry, rhubarb, apricot, raspberry, blackberry, persimmon, buttermilk, raisin, mincemeat, gooseberry….

Pardon me, I blacked out for a second. This year I confess I was a bit saddened to see some pre-made crusts in the case (you can tell those by the perfect crimp around the edges). But the reality is there simply aren’t as many octogenarian pie-makers in Tangier as there used to be. These days it seems they hold some of the best stuff in back. But if you ask nicely — really nicely — they’ll bring out a slice of Ada’s famous black raspberry and hand it you with a wink.

The Covered Bridge Festival is going on through next Sunday. Don’t miss it if you can help it.