An Indiana teen seeks to better understand and appreciate her home state by fulfilling the 50 Things Every Hoosier Must Do, per article in August 2010 issue of Indianapolis Monthly
Showing posts with label southern Indiana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label southern Indiana. Show all posts
Bugs, numerous thorns, daunting vertical ascents, thirst, sweat, shortness of breath and poor cellphone reception: these were the only things on my mind as I climbed the knobs of the Knobstone Trail, a 58-mile footpath in Southern Indiana. Although much of the trail is beautiful and peacefully isolated, the "knobs" can be miserable. Luckily I only encountered three of these miserable climbs during my five mile hike on the Delaney Park Loop.
Aside from the knobs, which are remnants of Indiana's glacial past, my two hour hike was overall enjoyable. I went with two of my best friends and we passed the time catching up on our last few weeks of freshman college and exaggeratedly complaining about the heat and bugs.
When we weren't chatting, we took in the complete silence. While on the Trail, we encountered no other people. Miles from civilization and technology, it was almost eery how quiet everything was. We were hypnotized by the tranquility until a giant bee or stinging nettle interrupted our Thoreau moment.
The Knobstone Trail was a cool experience and a great hike, but as much as I enjoy nature, I realize I can only take in small doses. It was a pleasant day trip, but I am definitely not hardy enough to hike all 58 miles. Kudos to those who are.
Morel mushrooms are a big deal in Indiana. The smooth-stalked, spongey-topped mushrooms are treasured by their dedicated hunters for their meaty, nutty taste and rareness. Morels resist domestication, so even the most savvy of hunters can never guarantee coming across the mushrooms.
Morels
Morels hunters have a small window to find the mushrooms: from early April to early June. They are most often found near dead or dying hardwood trees, as the decaying root systems nourish the mushrooms.
As if locating morels isn't hard enough, morel hunters are extremely guarded about their knowledge of good hunting spots. The secrecy and rarity of the morels have led them to be called "truffles for the middle class," an allusion to the highly coveted mushrooms that can cost up to $3,600/pound.
Knowing that morels are difficult to find, especially for a novice such as myself, I opted to attend the sixth annual Morel Mushroom Festival at the Brown County State Park. This would give me a chance to hunt in the park, but would also ensure that I would leave with purchased morels in case my hunting was fruitless.
My prediction was correct: I found zero morels while hiking through the forests of Brown County. Admittedly, I wasn't looking too hard. My uncle warned my mom to beware of snakes, so my mom and I were too afraid to do much thorough examination in fear of disturbing a snake nest or similarly frightening forest-dweller.
Serious morel hunter
Although we did not find any morels, the hunt was enjoyable nonetheless. I had never hiked through Brown County State Park before, but it is just as beautiful as I had heard. The park consists of over 15,700 acres and is the largest state park in Indiana; this provides ample land for exploration and admiration.
Brown County State Park woods
The only mushrooms found on our hunt
Lake Stahl
After our unsuccessful hunt, my mom and I joined the long line of morel enthusiasts and bought a half pound bag of the mushrooms for a whopping $25. Although this was considerably less than the $1800 a half pound of truffles would cost, it was still a pricey figure. The things I do for this blog...
In addition to a morel sale, the festival offered music by the aptly-named band Jack Morel and the Spores and a crafts tent.
Jack Morel & the Spores
Morel-topped walking sticks
There was also a seemingly-random but nonetheless-interesting birds of prey demonstration.
Members of the Indiana Raptor Society speak about local birds of prey
Patrick, an American Kestrel
A couple of girls even dressed up as morel mushrooms. The fanaticism was even found in the youngest festival attendees.
Morel costumes
After returning from the festival, my mom soaked our purchases in saltwater upon the recommendation of my cousin-in-law who is apparently a pro morel hunter. This solution extracts any gross bugs or dirt that might be found in the hollow mushrooms. She then rinsed, dried and cut the morels in preparation for a breakfast of cheese-and-morel omelets.
I thought the morels were kind of gross in the omelet. They weren't very well cooked and tasted rubbery and bland. I was quite disappointed in them.
Until I fried them. Fried morels are the way to go. They are incredibly easy to make, too. Just coat the slices in flour and fry them in vegetable oil or butter. Before frying they feel and taste rubbery, similar to bad pasta. After frying, they become crispy and attain the fabled meaty, nutty taste morel hunters treasure so dearly.
Before frying
After frying
Before frying
After frying
Even though my hunting was unsuccessful and the morels were expensive, it was worthwhile. Maybe I will try to charm my family's seasoned morel hunters and persuade them to let me tag along on next spring's hunt.
Located in the rolling hills of southern Indiana are the French Lick and West Baden hotels/casinos. Just a few minutes away from each other, these hotels are remnants of a by-gone era, examples of the baroque and borderline gaudy luxury that the rich of yore once experienced. Established in 1845 and 1902, respectively, French Lick and West Baden were once popular getaways for the wealthy. They were drawn by the medicinal mineral water, gambling, and, during the Prohibition, illicit booze. Because of this, it is no surprise that gangsters such as Al Capone were frequent guests.
This pair of photos, located outside of the French Lick Casino, captures the old time glamour of the hotel
Today, the clientele is changed; the majority of guests are either families on one-two night getaways or middle aged men on golf and/or business trips. Despite this, the hotels have managed to maintain their air of cool extravagance. A queue of porters stands at the ready to assist newly arrived guests, and the impressive lobby is dripping with gold, jewel tones, and chandeliers.
French Lick Hotel lobby
After the initial elation wore off, I checked into the room with my grandparents and cousin. We wandered around the hotel and grounds until dinnertime. Outside, the heat and humidity were overwhelming; the heat index was 116. This inferno, mixed with the boiled egg sulfurous scent emanating from the hot springs, was hardly pleasant. This was when I learned the unfortunate lesson of the trip: never visit French Lick on one of the hottest days of the year, especially if that day happens to be a Monday.
Slogans located in the Pluto Springs gazebo behind the French Lick Hotel
Because we were visiting on a Monday, few activities were available. Live bands and afternoon tea were only available on the weekends. A dive-in movie (a.k.a. movie shown while you hang out in the pool) was cancelled because a private party had booked the pool. I decided against horseback riding the next day because of the heat. I refused to pay $40 to drip sweat onto the miserable horse beneath me.
Even without comfortable weather and a full activity schedule, we still managed to enjoy our stay at French Lick. We shopped on Main Street, played in the pool, danced to '70s music outside of the casino, and even found the home of Larry Bird's mother. Although the trip wasn't as awesome as I expected it to be, spending time with my grandparents and cousin made it worthwhile.
I am something of an amateur foodie. It all started with a strange Food Network-obsessed stage I went through in the eighth grade. Before that time, I was content with frozen meals and thought of Taco Bell as exotic cuisine. When I discovered the possibility of food, it was like a whole new world was opened up to me. Beyond the incredible variety of flavors, I enjoy "traveling" through food and believe that one can learn much about a region through its dishes and food culture.
Corny I know, but I couldn't resist. This alternately makes me incredibly amazed and burst into laughter.
Why am I confiding this? Because it explains why I was so excited for the Taste section of the Indianapolis Monthly article. Eight of the 50 items are food, and persimmon pudding was my first selection. If I do say so myself, it was a good choice.
Persimmons
The article suggested trying the dish at the Spring Mill Inn in Mitchell. The Inn's website revealed that the Inn was located with the Spring Mill State Park. The Park had a variety of attractions, including cave boat tours and a Pioneer Village. I always enjoy the hilarity/education combo to be found at kitschy historical re-creation sites, so I easily justified the long drive. I also found that it was conveniently on the way to the French Lick Hotel (#14), so I combined the two for an enjoyable mini trip with my grandparents and cousin.
Spring Mill Inn
The lunch at the Spring Mill Inn was pretty underwhelming (i.e. lunch buffet filled with unhealthy, greasy comfort food) but the dessert made it worthwhile. Cornmeal pie and persimmon pudding are the specialities of the Inn, and rightfully so. The cornmeal gave the pie an unusual but nice texture and wasn't overbearingly sweet. My cousin was surprised that the persimmon pudding was nothing like the Jello pudding to which she was accustomed. Rather, its presentation was more along the lines of sticky toffee pudding and bread pudding.
Cornmeal pie
It is difficult to describe persimmon pudding if one is unfamiliar with the taste of persimmon, but I can best describe it as bread pudding meets spice cake. It came served with a generous helping of whipped cream, which added an extra boost of sugar to the otherwise sweet/tart flavor. I quickly devoured my serving. My grandmother, who was raised in rural southern Indiana, was well acquainted with persimmon pudding. Persimmon trees grow wild in the area and her uncle even had a few in his backyard. After seeing my affinity for it, she bought a tub of persimmon pulp and has promised to make it for the next family event. I can't wait!
Persimmon pudding
After the sugar rush subsided, we toured the Pioneer Village. It was really quaint, with a babbling stream and authentic 1800s buildings. The buildings had been well restored and were filled with informative representations of life during the pioneer era. Despite this, all I could think was "Thank God that I did not live during this time!!" Seriously, it looked miserable. Uncomfortable beds, stuffy clothing, practical isolation, and a never ending stream of chores made me appreciate modern conveniences so much. This was compounded by the July in Indiana heat/humidity double punch. The temperature was 96 degrees, but the heat index was a miserable 116. The Pioneer Village provided little shade and obviously no air conditioning, a deadly combination for my grandparents. Because of this, our visit to the Pioneer Village did not last long.
Grist mill at Pioneer Village
In search of a cooler area, we headed to the Twin Caves cave boat tour. For $3/person, the tour is a steal. It was my first tour of the kind, so I really enjoyed it. The cave is a cool 54 degrees year round, a welcome reprieve from the stifling summer heat.
Our tour boat: probably the reason for the $3 price
I saw a bat, blind cave fish, crawdads, stalactites, and forming flow rock. At one point, the guide turned the boat's headlights and her flashlight off, allowing us to experience the true darkness of the cave. Never before have I been in a place where the difference between open and closed eyes is non-existent. The cave was peaceful and I can now say that I have visited the Twilight Zone (a particular section of the cave).
Exiting the Twilight Zone
For those interested in making cornmeal pie and/or persimmon pudding at home, the Spring Mill State Park published the recipes in their quarter annual publication. Enjoy!
Persimmon Pudding
2 cups persimmon pulp
2 cups milk
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 stick butter
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a 9 x 13 inch pan and put 1/2 stick of butter into the pan. melt the butter in the oven. Mix all dry ingredients together. In a large mixing bowl add persimmon pulp, eggs and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla. Mix well. Alternate milk and dry ingredients until thoroughly mixed. Pour over top of melted butter and bake approximately 35 to 40 minutes until done. Remove from oven and let cool to room temperature. Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream if desired.
