A Somewhat Short Guide to Attending Wakarusa.

Main Stage concert lovers. (Grav Weldon)

So, you’re headed to Wakarusa. Is it your first time? You may be surprised at what you find. Far more than just a bunch of music acts playing before a crowd of campers, the Wakarusa Music and Camping Festival has its own vibe, its own culture, even its own cuisine. Here’s a bit of information that you might find helpful when you go.

Weather and what to wear
This is, after all, Arkansas. We have all four seasons here. However, the season-to-season ratio changes from year to year. For instance, we just came out of one of the longest winters we've ever experienced – with snowfall at Mulberry Mountain on MAY 4TH. Unusual to say the least. Last year’s Wakarusa ranged from rather chilly on Thursday night to downright balmy Saturday afternoon and strongly stormy in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

I wonder if the leg warmers are hot.

Be prepared – for anything. Shorts are a good bet, especially paired with sunscreen. There are few limits to what you can wear, as long as you’re covering the important bits. Sarongs, halter tops, bikini tops, mesh shirts are common in the heat. Last year’s cold snap had many scrambling for something to cover the bare arms – with a lot of sheets twisted into improvised togas making an appearance. For good measure, it might be worthwhile to throw a jacket into your bag.

Shoes? Choose some you can walk in – and that you don’t mind getting dirty. Mulberry Mountain is, after all, located in the great outdoors, which means grass and mud and stones are common. Pack an extra pair or two, and plenty of socks.

If you have that covered, then perhaps you should consider costumes. Yes, costumes. There are actually themed days at Wakarusa, which can be a great chance to have some fun.

The hippies and the hipsters
When I was assigned the opportunity to attend my first Wakarusa, I was given the idea that it was a modern Woodstock. I went expecting hippies… and the images of ‘70s style earth mammas and back to the wilderness folks came to mind.

That’s not quite what I found. While yes, there were some individuals who wore tie dye and had flowers in their hair, there was an overwhelming number of individuals who could best be described as hipsters… irony-free early-adapters, trendy sorts and geeky sorts and overall mostly twenty- and thirty-somethings with cash to spend.

Dancing with abandon is common.

The juxtaposition was interesting. Seeing young men in fedoras and ties interspersed with girls dressed as Japanese animation look-alikes, guys in Utilikilts and backpacks and girls in bikinis and furry hats, and just about anyone in any sort of brightly colored clothing – a cacophony of unusuality. Everyone in the crowd wants to stand out and be different – something that seems to be a hallmark of this strongly Millenial crowd.

Tribes of Wakarusa
One distinguishing factor from traditional concert festivals – that’s strongly developed thanks to the camping element – is the culture of tribes. Sure, we've all at one point or another joined a road trip with friends to some sort of destination. This group camping experience has evolved into a way to demarcate a new social delineation.

A totem.  There's a Mario & Luigi nearby.

The tribe is a unit of three or more individuals, camping and attending together. They may have a camp flag – especially if they’re on the Main Camping plain where tents stretch out as far as the eye can see – to show them where they’re crashing. They may have a totem as well – which is best designed as anything on a stick to be carried throughout the festival by a member of the tribe. Practically, it’s a way for these groups to keep track of each other in an area with questionable cell phone service. But creatively, it’s something more – something to identify the group to others. It may be a cutout of a popular (or even better, a subculture) cartoon icon, a stuffed animal, a flag, a kite, anything. Some even change them out by day and theme, and even from day to night (night totems tend to include things that glow).

Tribes also often dress and play together – wearing everything from like fashions to thematic costumes. In many ways, this is a spill-over of the comic and science fiction convention cosplay culture. And yes, furries have been spotted, but don’t let that worry you too much.

Suit of bears.  Had to be hot.

It’s not necessary for one to be part of a tribe to enjoy the costume play. Some of the more, um, unique costumes I spotted at the 2012 event included a Native American-style get-up with three-feet feathers; ancient Celts; a guy dressed as a pink bunny, complete with knee-high pink socks and a pink sundress; adult lady “fairies” in tie dye leotards and multi-color tutus; and the man who I could best describe as wearing a “suit of bears.”

It’s a performance art festival, too
Which brings me to the Astral Gypsies. Take the costumes of the event and bump it up a notch. These are expert, master puppeteers. They’re advertised as “”Dedicated to opening minds through interactive visionary art, the Astral Gypsies' Giant Puppet Troupe presents a truly "Larger Than Life" experience!” Yeah. That starts to cover it.

Grav Weldon's shot of the Astral Gypsy's octopus.

Mantis and... fish?

What you get is a bit more than what’s on the tin. They have a tent they set up near the main stage where many of their puppets are put on display and yes, yes you can touch them. But the puppets show up everywhere… in line waiting for a grilled cheese sandwich as a mushroom, clamoring down the road as a giant praying mantis, swaying at a concert as a giant bulbous fish. Impressive during the day, at night they’re even more fantastic… take for instance the illuminated octopus animated in the crowd at the main stage, swirling and undulating over the heads of the crowd in an ever-active show bonus.

The octopus puppet serves as sunscreen during the day.

There are others. Last year’s set included a light show erected on Saturday inside a giant white globe. Painters work on canvases, on silk, on even bodies. Everyone’s part of the art.

Better than your usual festival food fare
And then there is the food. Much to my surprise, Wakarusa didn't mirror the festival routine when it came to dinner. I’m a veteran of multiple state fairs, country festivals and community events – and I assumed the usual corn dog and funnel cake routine would be followed here. I was ever so wrong, and ever so glad. Wakarusa’s food is just as varied as its clientele. Crepes and quesadillas are popular, being great hand-held food. Pizza is also popular, with every sort of topping – and, in a different turn, lots of French bread pizza as well. Stir-fry dishes, noodles, one-pot dishes… all available.

Grilled cheese, any way you want it.

Then there’s the grilled cheese sandwich. Let’s face it – after you've spent a great deal on a ticket to the festival, bought a camping pass, paid for gas and got all your gear together, saving a few bucks is a good idea. Many of the vendors offer varying degrees of the classic grilled cheese sandwich – from the plain cheese and nothing else to gourmet cheeses, bacon, meats, vegetables and just about anything in-between the two slices of bread.

There are a good number of Wakarusa food photos located here.

Low on funds? You can always bring your own food to the festival – even bring your picnic right into the concert zone itself. It’s suggested to bring a camelbak and keep it filled (don’t worry – there are plenty of water stations all over Mulberry Mountain, and Arkansas water is pretty decent). All beverages seem to start at $3, so save yourself some money and bring your own (but do try the fantastic teas, hand-squeezed lemonades and other “exotic” beverages). Just don’t bring glass bottles. They’re not allowed anywhere at Mulberry Mountain – because broken glass sucks, especially when it gets into the grass and buried.

Oh golly, the music
The music. It goes on… and on… and on. If you have trouble falling asleep if it’s not quiet, bring the best dang earplugs money can buy – because the music goes on all night long.

It starts before it starts – that is, the first jam sessions happen Wednesday night, even before official activities start. There’s a Backwoods Stage performance to skuttle on down to, if you can draw yourself out of one of the spontaneous parties that pop up all over site. The official start is Thursday late in the morning – and the music goes on until full daylight the next day… and the next. There is a quieter time, from about 7 a.m. to noon each day, when you’ll hear bits of acoustic music from musicians in the camps, but pretty much expect to be listening from the get-go.

A daytime jam in the Revival Tent.

There’s almost always someone playing – and if the main stage is in the middle of a change-out there’s other performances in the woods. It’s a steady walk from one venue to another and there’s no possible way for a single individual to hear it all – but that’s all right.

There are lots of folks who will talk about nothing but the music – and that’s fine. That means I can move on and cover other things!

Such as what to bring. Honestly, being an outdoor festival, there’s no seating. Most folks stand and watch, dance, or bring their own items to sit on. A lightweight bag chair is not a bad idea… a sheet for the ground is always handy. For this and many other reasons, you’ll see people with all sorts of backpacks. These are fine, too – but expect to have them searched. It’s all in the name of safety.

If you’re wanting to catch all of a show, though, and you’re coming in from your camping area, leave early. Lines at the gates tend to back up 30 minutes before the biggest shows – and they can take an awful long time to clear. The same goes for coming in from off-site, but I’ll address that in a bit.

The Ferris Wheel offers great views.  I'm scared of heights.

Not just for the shows
Wakarusa is very much a participation event. Yes, you can just go for the concerts, but there’s far more to do. Each morning at 8 a.m. at the Satellite Stage, there’s yoga, open to all. There are disc golf competitions, music lessons – heck, even lessons on space and time. You can fish one of the several ponds on the Mulberry Mountain property. There’s a Ferris Wheel and a waterslide. You can catch the bus down to the Mulberry River for a swim, and there you can rent a canoe or a kayak or a raft and go for a float.

And the Hula hoops. They’re everywhere. Never Hula’d? You can learn. Folks will teach you. I swear, I have never seen so many Hula hoops in my life – and never have I seen so many that are lit at night. Amazing.

Yup, anything goes.

Dang dirty hipster
All those activities, you’re going to want a shower, right? Here’s the bad news. You can purchase a shower pass or pay $10 for a shower – or you can go without. Flushies also don’t exist for campers at this event. It’s Porta-Potty time, and you should be prepared.

Yes, you can bring a camp shower. There are a lot of ways you can prepare. But know in advance that you won’t be able to enjoy the pleasures of hot water unless you pay extra – or if you've brought your RV.

That also goes for electricity. While there were RV spots with electricity available (long gone at this point), it’s not readily available. You’re camping, for goodness sake. You’ll survive.

But what about those cell phones, cameras and other items you need to have charged? Well, you do get to camp right by your tent, so get a car charger. Small generators are allowed as well. I suggest a solar charger.

Solar power’s lovely, and free after the initial purchase of the solar item. Some camps utilize solar Christmas lights and garden lights on stakes to differentiate from the other tents and to direct exhausted concertgoers back to camp in the late night hours.

Oh, it's always smart to bring your own TP.

Speaking of camping…
If you’re not used to camping, you need to refresh yourself. Make sure your tent is ready to go. Bring an extra tarp, just in case. Remember your battery operated air pump if you’re on an air mattress. Remember your clothes, sunscreen, bug spray, chair, cooler, flashlight and whatnot.

Ground fires aren’t allowed, so if you plan to cook you’ll need to bring your own fire pit, stove or grill. Be smart about it – don’t dump live coals on the ground, don’t leave anything burning when you go run off to see that favorite musical act. Use your head.

When it comes to valuables – lock them in your car. That’s just smart. Yes, most concert-goers are good folks who wouldn’t dream of going through your stuff when you’re not around, but with 20,000+ individuals you’re bound to get a bad apple or two.

Getting to site
If you’ve purchased a pass for the whole shebang, you already know that you can’t get on-site until 4 p.m. Calm your jets. Don’t set your GPS or your Garmin or your Siri to get you there right at four – you’re going to find yourself sitting on the Pig Trail for a couple of hours as other folks who thought ahead get checked through the gate. It takes time to do a quick look-through of a vehicle to ensure there’s no glass bottles and whatnot within – to do that whole ticket and wristband thing and get directions to campsites. If you absolutely MUST NOT miss a moment, you need to get to Ozark or Fayetteville early and be prepared to head over long before the four o’clock hour.

The Pig Trail? That’s Highway 23. It runs through the beautiful Ozark Mountains and gets its name from the University of Arkansas mascot, the Razorback. Used to be, more adventurous Hog fans would take Highway 23 from Little Rock to Fayetteville to bypass the traffic that would always back up along Highway 71 (this is now averted with the construction of I-540).

Better gas up. Coming from the south, there’s a number of gas stations at Ozark (even one that serves good pie). Coming from the north, your last shots are Huntsville and Fayetteville. There’s just not much around in-between, and what you’re going to find is going to be more expensive.

Closest amenities? Well, there are camp stores at Wakarusa, but if you need more than that there’s tiny Ahart’s Grocery not too far up Highway 23. There’s a decently stocked CV’s in Ozark, a full sized grocery store – and the other way there’s a Harp’s on the outskirts of Fayetteville. There’s also a small Walmart (not a Supercenter) in Ozark.

Ozark is also home to a fantastic barbecue restaurant, Rivertowne Barbecue, half a block off the town square. Arkansas Wine Country is two exits east on I-40 at Altus – and all four wineries there offer tours and tastings. Altus is also home to a great little pub called Kelt’s.

If you’re sticking around after the event, check out Dickson Street in Fayetteville – packed with bars, restaurants, book stores and jam joints, right off the U of A campus. Go get a great burger at Feltner Brothers.

If you’re coming in from the west, Fort Smith is south on I-540 – but you’re better off going in through Van Buren (where you can take advantage of the trip and try Arkansas’s largest doughnut) to get to downtown. Alma’s also a good choice – I’d suggest grabbing a Dagwood and pie at the Red Rooster Bistro.

If you’re planning your trip or need a recommendation, drop me a line at kat@tiedyetravels.com.

Burge's, Smoked Turkey That Took Over The World.

The original Burge's location in
Lewisville. (Kat Robinson)

Most restaurants begin with a concept or a family dream.  Burge's began with a backyard smoker -- and a whole lot of friends who loved what came out of it.  It took nearly 10 years to get to a restaurant, but what was created there has endured generations.

The Scent of Memory: Klappenbach Bakery.

Klappenbach Bakery in 2010. (Kat Robinson)

This is one in a series on historical restaurants in the state of Arkansas. For a look at the Arkansas restaurant timeline, click here.

Fordyce is known for three things – Paul “Bear” Bryant, the Redbugs and Klappenbach Bakery. They represent three ideals: determination, tenacity and community.

Well, the Redbugs are still playing, and Bear Bryant’s legacy is still held dear. But Klappenbach Bakery is now a delicious and fondly favored memory.

For 36 years, the red brick bakery stood sentinel along a stretch of pavement downtown, not far from the railroad tracks. It was a great spot for hot coffee, warm pastries and sweet conversations. Past the pastry cases in the foyer, one would enter a red-washed room decorated with gas station memorabilia and mismatched tables, often packed with the guys from down the street, or local farmers shooting the breeze, or the local civic club. There were lunches taken here, many – but it was breakfast where the place really shined, home to buttery Danish and tiny miniature doughnuts. And oh golly, the monkey bread.

The bakery’s story started 2000 miles away, in the burg of Walla Walla, WA. It began its Arkansas chapter in 1975, when Norman and Lee Klappenbach moved to Fordyce (Lee was originally from Dallas County). Their son Paul was still a kid, ten or eleven years old, when they started up the little bakery that grew a huge following. The family started baking up fresh pastries, bread and doughnuts in the area because fresh baked goods weren’t locally available. It didn’t take long for folks to find them… following the aroma of cinnamon rolls that would waft blocks away. By the time the Klappenbachs threw in the towel in 2011, they averaged 75 people each day for lunch – an impressive ratio for a town of just 5000 people.

Breakfast, lunch… a community can live on that. It can thrive on baked goods, though, and Klappenbach has plenty: miniature doughnuts for a quarter apiece, big fat fresh loaves of bread, the aforementioned monkey bread, fritters and cinnamon rolls, raisin bread, pies, brownies, cupcakes, pecan rolls, bear claws, cookies and cakes. In 1991 the bakery started doing mail-order, and the orders started rolling in from all over the country – first from ex-pats who wanted a taste of home, then from folks who were lucky enough to share in that bounty, then from people who’d never stepped foot in Arkansas but had read about the place in Southern Living.

It became tradition for travelers passing through town on Highway 167 to make it their pit shop – and for some, like myself, it became a culinary destination. I used to find reasons to divert up to an hour off my path just to pick up a moist cake or a box of brownies to take with me wherever I was going. Long before culinary tourism became a “thing,” there were so many practicing that art with their own paths through south central Arkansas.

When a fire shut down the bakery in 2009, we all feared the end had come and eulogized our happy spot in town. But we were treated to a coda, a little window of opportunity, when the place reopened a few months later. For one more year, there were tiny doughnuts and massive cinnamon rolls again.

And then it was over. Norman Klappenbach was 80, his wife Lee 77, and they were done. Son Paul was 47. He’d spent seven years working 65 hours a week to keep the bakery open, but it just wasn’t in him anymore. With no one else left to take up the reins of business, the bakery shut its doors October 1st of 2011.

There’s still no replacement for that heavenly scent that would sometimes waft as far as the bypass. But there are good memories… and I keep hoping one day I’ll see mention somewhere that I can order a box of bread (three loaves, or a loaf and a cake) through the mail. I sure miss that monkey bread.

Brothers B-B-Q: Larry's Place in Heber Springs.

Sometimes fate puts you where you need to be. For Larry Cordell, that place was Heber Springs. And for Heber Springs, that’s a blessing paid out in barbecue and good will.

I photobombed George Takei.

No, really.  I'm the girl on the right.

In all seriousness, though, THIS PLACE MATTERS.  McGehee's new World War II Japanese American Internment Museum, the Rohwer Internment Camp National Site, all of it, very much matters.

George Takei is far more eloquent than I am about it... check out his words here.

Hot Springs: 85 Years of McClard's BBQ.

There’s a family restaurant of some renown out of Hot Springs… one of those places everyone’s heard of. Five generations of a single family have operated the little whitewashed building along Albert Pike… and the place goes back to the 1920s. That place… is McClard’s Bar-B-Q.

Brown's Country Store and Restaurant: 40 Years, 100 Feet and Growing.

It is very possible that I had my first real restaurant experience at a place in Benton.  It’s likely, considering that’s where my parents lived in the early 70s, around the time that Brown’s Country Store and Restaurant was just starting to bud.

Editorial: The Raw Milk Bill.

One of Kent Walker's marvelous cheeses.  (Grav Weldon)

I have a confession to make.  I love cheese.  I mean, we’re talking serious affection here.  If I had to choose between giving up cheese or chocolate for the rest of my life, there would be no choice – I’ll take salty, savory and even musty cheeses over the finest cocoa nibs. 

I’m also a big fan of Arkansas foods… homegrown, native, created and shared.  The seeds of the locavore movement planted in the past decade have blossomed into readily available fruits and vegetables, meat and dairy year-round.  Not only can I take home these locally produced ingredients, but I can also dine on creations from these same products in an expanding number of local restaurants.  After all these years, there is now the possibility and reality of truly “eating Arkansas.”

At least, to a point.  There are some things we cannot change.  We’ll always be a landlocked state, which means saltwater seafoods are just not something that comes from here.  I doubt we’ll ever have syrup-producing maple.  But there are some things we can change.

Now, a disclaimer.  I’m not a political animal.  I spent too many years trying desperately to follow the Cronkite model in a succession of newsrooms.  For the most part, my politics are my own and are relegated to my voting booth experience.  Food is the one arena in which I will speak out – whether it’s the production, the promotion, the availability to others and the feeding of the hungry. 

That’s why I have to talk to you about House Bill 1536 in the Arkansas Legislature.  Please, stick with me.  It’s just a few lines of government-speak, but it’s important.  The measure reads:

AN ACT TOI PROMOTE THE USE OF LOCALLY PRODUCED MILK PRODUCTS; TO ALLOW THE INCIDENTAL SALE OF LOCALLY PRODUCED WHOLE MILK THAT IS NOT PASTEURIZED; TO ALLOW THE STATE BOARD OF HEALTH TO MAKE RULES FOR THE SALE OF LOCALLY PRODUCED WHOLE MILK THAT IS NOT PASTEURIZED; AND FOR OTHER PURPOSES.

The subtitle of the measure:

TO PROMOTE LOCAL MILK PRODUCTS; TO ALLOW THE INCIDENTAL SALE OF WHOLE MILK THAT IS NOT PASTEURIZED; AND TO ALLOW THE STATE BOARD OF HEALTH TO MAKE RULES FOR THE SALES.

Chilled milk. (Kat Robinson)

The measure, known commonly as The Raw Milk Bill, would amend Arkansas Code 20-59-248, which currently allows only for the sale of raw goat’s milk – to the tune of just 100 gallons sold per farmer each year.  The changes proposed would extend the same to dairy cattle farmers and such, who would be allowed to sell up to 500 gallons of raw cow’s milk each year.  That increased limit would also apply to goat’s milk.

That may seem like a lot of milk – but if you think about it, it’s really not.  The average American drinks 20.1 gallons of milk a year (2010 numbers, compared with 44.7 gallons of SODA each year), according to the USDA.  500 gallons-worth could conceivably just cover 25 people…. 

What would be done with this unpasteurized milk?  Well, if the measure passes and is signed into law, raw cow’s milk becomes available to the consumer in a variety of ways.  The obvious answer is that it may appear in local markets, probably for a higher price than what you pay for regular milk.  It also becomes available for other applications.  The one I am interested in, is cheese.

Yes, you can make cheese out of pasteurized milk.  I have good friends who do this on a fairly regular basis, creating a soft cream cheese from whole milk with the addition of vinegar or lemon juice.  I’m also a fan of Kent Walker’s fine artisanal cheeses.  Kent’s been creating some marvelous cheeses right here in Little Rock at Trinity Cathedral Episcopal Church, in its kitchen (which has become a fine incubator for locavore pursuits as of late).  He’s already reached beyond Feta to hard cheeses like his Bluff Top Gouda, Habanero Cheddar and Ophelia – a lovely goat milk cheese that could best be compared as a fragrant variant of French Munster.  Thing is, he makes Ophelia out of raw goat’s milk – and it is fabulous.    

Most of the milk you can purchase these days is homogenized – which means it’s the milk of so many cows all poured in together and pasteurized together, giving it a very uniform flavor.  The non-pasteurized raw milk we’re talking about that’s covered in this bill would be the milk from small local farms, where cows get to graze outside on grasses and which will each have their own flavor.  To some it will be slight; to others, significant.  That might freak some of you out.  But imagine the cheeses that could come from that.

There are some big foes against raw milk and cheeses made from it, I have to tell you.  There are even websites that talk about the dangers – and if you are interested in reading them, you can find some of those warnings here.  You can also find information about why raw milk is a good thing, here.  There are good arguments on both sides of the case.

Thing is, passing this measure won’t mean you HAVE to drink raw milk or consume raw milk products.  The milk you get from most of those commercial operations will still be the same product you buy today at your local grocery.  But the bill will open up the possibility of purchasing these items yourself. 

It’ll also help these small dairy operations to flourish – which, in the age of the growing locavore movement, seems like a no-brainer.  Helping these farmers create markets in which to sell their products can only benefit them and encourage others to follow suit, offering more local dairy options for the discerning consumer. 

When it comes down to it, it’s a matter of choice.  I’ll be watching the progress of this measure in the days to come.  It’s currently set to be heard Friday morning in the House Committee on Agriculture, Forestry and Economic Development.  You can follow it here.

Spudnuts: Potato Flour Goodness.

This is one in a series on historical restaurants in the state of Arkansas. For a look at the Arkansas restaurant timeline, click here.

South Arkansas boasts two bakeries with a similar product – a singular item that ties them to a 70+ year shared history with more than 600 other locations.

Mr. Spudnut

A Spudnut.  (Kat Robinson)

Spudnuts were the creation of Al and Bob Pelton, two Salt Lake City boys who first encountered potato-flour doughnuts in Germany. They came back to the States in the late 30s and attempted to recreate the addictive rounds themselves – and succeeded with a recipe they started utilizing in 1940 – which became the heart of their Spudnut Shop franchise. Six years later they had 200 stores that utilized their dry spudnut flour in the making of golden rounds. 20 years after that they were stretched coast to coast with more than 600 outlets.

Spudnut stamp in Magnolia (Kat Robinson)

Spudnut was a big deal… but big deals lead to the end of that franchise. It started with the Peltons selling their company in 1968 to National Oven Products, owned by Pace Industries. Pace turned around a few years later and sold off National Oven Products to Dakota Bake-N-Serv… which itself went away after some bad business by its owner. The company and its company and Spudnuts the franchise all evaporated with a conviction of fraud and conspiracy in 1979. Franchisees were left holding the bag and most disappeared within 10 years.

But not all of them. Two of the franchises held ground here in Arkansas – one in Magnolia, opened in 1959 – and the other in El Dorado, opened in 1948. The two stores have differently styled buildings and different vibes… but they both still sell the golden rings six mornings a week.

The El Dorado location (via Facebook)

Daisy Stringfellow started the one in El Dorado. She discovered them on a trip to visit relatives in Oregon, and visited one of the original Salt Lake City Spudnut Shops on her way home. By the time she arrived back in LA (Lower Arkansas), she had decided she wanted to own one of those franchises. Her daughter Nancy Varnell and son-in-law William Varnell are co-owners today – and Bud McCann is still the only manager the store has ever had.

The Magnolia location (Kat Robinson)

The El Dorado store is more art deco, more stylized on the outside with a tiny dining room within. In Magnolia, it’s more of a country-style diner. Magnolia’s store sells more than pastries, though… in fact, they do sell something called Pigs which seem to be a pastry-wrapped turn on the traditional pigs-in-a-blanket. They also do some weird varieties of Spudnuts, such as peanut butter and jelly – and bacon maple. Indeed.

Spudnut making in Magnolia

While the two stores have a different atmosphere, they do share their mix with each other when one or t’other is running low. That’s saying a lot – since it has been made from scratch since the franchise disappeared.

If you haven’t gone for a Spudnut before – you start with the plain Jane glazed round. For one, Spudnuts seem to be thicker to me. Not in the consistency, mind you, but in the fluff. That potato flour fluffs up high. One bite, and you get it. There’s a substance to it – yes, it still melts on the tongue like all good doughnuts, but you feel as if you’re eating something more than just sugar and air.

Spudnuts are the sort of doughnut that prefers coffee to chocolate milk or cocoa. The round has heft. It has delight.

It has an addictive quality that doesn’t leave your system. Nay, I have indeed heard time after time about individuals who have driven three or four hours to arrive while a Spudnut shop is still open. I know – I’ve been one of them.

Other Spudnut creations (Kat Robinson)

Spudnuts and coffee: it's
what's for breakfast.
Kat Robinson

Here’s the other thing about a Spudnut: they don’t keep.
After six hours you might as well give up on them, put what you have left in a bread pudding or something. The same pliancy that makes the rounds rise so high also pulls them back to Earth and makes them chewy.

Strange Magnolia Spudnut creations

Hungry now? Good. Tomorrow morning get up early and drive to either El Dorado or Magnolia and have yourself one. The Spudnut Shoppe is at 810 West Faulkner in El Dorado, (870) 863-9914 – or find the other Spudnut Shop in Magnolia at 612 East Main Suite B, (870) 234-2005.

If you’re a Spudnut fan, do yourself a favor and check out this website. And you might be interested in this website if you are a home cook.

Minute Man: Smoke on the Burger.

This is one in a series on historical restaurants in the state of Arkansas. For a look at the Arkansas restaurant timeline, click here.

At the end of 56th Street, the cut-through to University Avenue, there was a Minute Man restaurant. It was on the south side of the intersection, across from Zimmerman’s gas station, and from time to time if we could afford it I could have a nice, mean and hot burger on a toasted bun. And if I was really good, I got ice cream.

There was also a Minute Man on Broadway, and it was there through my high school years. I recall going in as a little girl with my mom. They had just introduced their first kids meal called the Magic Meal (this is the late 70s) and my first one had come with a little green army man. The second one, my mom pulled out the burger and I took a bite and started to cry. There was a piece of gristle inside, or maybe some hard cheese or something – and I thought they’d put the little green army man on the burger and it had melted.

My memories of Minute Man come from childhood. Today they’re all gone, save for one lone holdout in El Dorado – too far for me to grab a #2 on my lunch break. You remember the #2, right? The smoke burger? Char-grilled and dolloped with a liquid smoke goo, never equaled by Sonic (funny, I don’t think they offer a smoke burger any more, either). I can still recall that exact slightly woody flavor.

UALR Center for Arkansas
History and Culture

Vernon Rodgers and Wes Hall.
(UALR Center for Arkansas
History and Culture)

The original location at 407 South Broadway in Little Rock was a low-slung building sitting out back of a parking lot. Raymond Merritt remembers it was originally the Lido Minute Man, but I was born significantly later and only remember it as Wes Hall’s Minute Man. The Encyclopedia of Arkansas says Hall opened the place on May 26th of 1948 as a 24-hour coffee shop with three partners that he

Courtesy Raymond Merritt

eventually bought out before franchising the operation.

It grew, first to Hayes Street (named University Avenue by my time) and then onwards and outwards, eventually spreading to seven states with 57 different restaurants. And the ideas it seeded out spread through the fast food industry. That Magic Meal? It came along before McDonald’s Happy Meal. The #12, known as the “Big M,” was a great double-pattied burger that came along

The #12, or Big M. UALR Center for
Arkansas History and Culture)

before the Big Mac. And about half the burgers if you ordered them as they came (which really was the deal before Burger King started telling people to “have it your way” in the 80s), came with a smattering of “relish sauce” on the bun instead of mustard or mayo – relish sauce being very close to the Thousand Island-type sauce slathered on the Big Mac today. Oh, and if you wanted the lettuce and tomato on a burger like they’re all about served today, you had to order the #6 – the salad burger.

Minute Man was also one of the three restaurants to receive Raytheon’s experimental Radar Ranges. We’re talking a microwave oven – in 1948. While McDonald’s chain restaurants had their fried pies back then (IMHO superior to the baked pies offered today), Minute Man had the Radar Deep Dish Pie – a pot pie that if you were smart you ordered when you got your food so it had enough time to cool on the inside as to not burn your mouth. I only ever remember apple being offered, though the menu Merritt has on his website also shows peach, cherry and strawberry – “Served with Real Butter CREAM 5 cents Extra.”’

Courtesy Raymond Merritt

My mom and I moved to Little Rock in the mid-70s, and I grew up half a mile away from one of the University Avenue locations. It was absolutely as far as I dared to walk from the house, being on the other side of Geyer Springs Elementary by about three blocks. One of those most poignant childhood “fails” I recall was when the place started serving hard-scoop ice cream out the window. I was thrilled to get an ice cream cone with two scoops, side by side in what I believe was called a Sweetheart Cone. I remember going up to the window and waiting while my mom sat in the car. I paid for the treat (I think it was a dollar), turned around and promptly faceplanted on the concrete. Saved most of the cone – except for the very bottom. There was a rush to finish the ice cream before it melted out onto my lap, I remember.

Courtesy Raymond Merritt

By the time I was driving, the Minute Man still open in Little Rock was a block up from the original at 311 South Broadway. The building, if I recall correctly, was painted a pungent green. The interior was dark, and it was often quiet… unless you went at the lunch hour, when generations of traditionalists and Boomers squeezed in for a pick-up order or to quickly manage to consume a burger and fries. It closed for good in June of 2002 to make way for the new Federal Courthouse expansion. By that point, most of the other franchised restaurants had also met their demise – with the exception of that lone El Dorado holdout. Wes Hall didn’t live to see the end of that dream – he passed away a month beforehand.

The El Dorado Minute Man location. (Roadfood.com)

Will the Minute Man ever come back again? According to a posting on Roadfood.com’s forums, the El Dorado restaurant is still serving the same recipes up (I know it also serves cheese dip and burritos, which I don’t recall from the original) – and there was as of December 2012 someone considering opening a new Minute Man in Little Rock. I’m sure if the recipes are followed, that old smoke sauce is brought back and the prices are reasonable, the crowds will follow.

One more note. There's a man who's claimed to have raised me... that'd be the newscaster known as Craig O'Neill. One of these days I'll tell you why. For now, here's a link to the report he did for THV 11 (my old station) about Minute Man and its place in Arkansas history.

Burl's Country Smokehouse: Cinnamon Rolls As Big As Your Head.

This is one in a series on historical restaurants in the state of Arkansas. For a look at the Arkansas restaurant timeline, click here.

Early Arkansas travelers knew a thing or two about "fast food."  While drive-thru restaurants wouldn't appear in the state until the 1970s, the earliest travelers were usually prepared for a meal along their route.  It would usually include shelf-stable items such as hard biscuits and jerky.

A traditional meat counter inside Burl's. (Grav Weldon)

Once the automobile became king and our highways saw pavement, long-distance travelers got used to having a stopping-in place.  Almost every major highway traversing the state through the wilds and the forests had at least one smokehouse to stop at.  And at these you could always find some marvelous baked goods, made-to-order sandwiches and of course... jerky.

There are plumbed facilities
within the store. (Grav Weldon)

Burl's Country Smokehouse didn't start up til 1981, but it's still carrying on that roadside tradition.  The complex on the north side of US 270 between Hot Springs and Mount Ida on the outskirts of Royal in the Ouachita National Forest is a strange collections of buildings that include old cabins, barn-like structures, an apparent depot, a "jail" and even an outhouse.  Inside the main building, under wood-beamed rafters, there hangs the scent of smoke.  The residue of more than 32 years worth of smoking fine meats has left an indelible mark here.  Wander the store and see everything you might wish out of a country cupboard:  Amish jellies, sundries, souvenirs and... jerky.

Ham hocks, hog jowl and smoked bologna.  (Grav Weldon)

That jerky I keep mentioning is different at Burl's than just about anywhere else.  Unadulterated with a traditional marinade, the folks at Burl's instead let the smoke do the talking.  Without that addition of pepper or spice before the smoking itself, the jerky retains a flavor of nothing but smoke and meat, much like you'd encounter at fireside all so many years ago.The sandwiches come piled high with your choice of meat -- pork loin, beef brisket, Genoa salami, turkey, Canadian bacon, pastrami, corned beef and roast beef.  There are cheeses involved, and you would be well advised to choose one that has had its smoking treatment.  The Swiss and the cheddar are both of impeccable quality.

Yes, that big.  (Grav Weldon)

But Burl's big claim to fame might come in the cinnamon rolls offered at checkout.  Wrapped tightly in plastic wrap, the rolls are compact spirals of pastry and sugar and spice in a package as big as your head -- or at least as big as mine, as you can see here.

Burl's ignores the conventions of a traditional roadside attraction with seasonal hours -- instead, it's open throughout the year.  Drop in on your way to dig crystals next time you're in the area.

You'll find Burl's Country Smokehouse at 10176 Albert Pike (Highway 270) way out from Hot Springs.  No website, but you can always call them at (501) 991-3875.

Leo's Greek Castle: Classic in Hillcrest.

This is one in a series on historical restaurants in the state of Arkansas.  For a look at the Arkansas restaurant timeline, click here.

When I was growing up in Little Rock, there weren’t many opportunities to get good Greek food.  In fact, I didn’t know how to pronounce “gyro” until I was a teenager.  My experience and exposure was usually limited to the Greek Food Festival and the Arkansas State Fair.

And then there was Leo’s Greek Castle.  Nestled in front of a shopping center in Little Rock’s Hillcrest district, the blue-awning adorned building has been perched along Kavanaugh since the 1920s.  Since the 1970s, it’s served up a combination of traditional Greek dishes, burgers and one killer Cincy dog to locals who mostly have kept it to themselves.

The tiny oddly shaped building started out life as a gas station, oddly enough.  There’s still an empty storage tank located under the place, I’m told.  In the 1950s it housed a barbecue joint come drive-in that offered take-home family packs and curb service. 

And then some time in the 1970s Leo’s was born.  Gyros and such were new and unusual for a lot of the folks living in Hillcrest, and hummus even more so.  But the restaurant’s ice cream and burger offerings kept people coming in.

I ask folks about Leo’s from time to time, and people who lived in Little Rock for only a short time will recall the place – even if they only passed through the area once or twice.  Some talk about the tiny triangles of baklava, some about that Cincy dog.  All of them will tell you the same thing – unless you don’t mind literally rubbing your elbows with the folks at the next table, place a take-out order.

That’s because the diminutive eatery’s dining area is about the size of a single car garage.  Within, there are six tables leveraged in to the left of a counter and ice cream case.  

But it has its high points.  It’s the only place in Arkansas I’ve found that serves honest to goodness pastichio (also called pastitsio) with the béchamel sauce and the oh heavens it’s so rich but it’s so good and all that.  It’s also the only place I know where you can get a “Greek Omelet,” an omelet filled with gyro meat, in the state.  And I love both.

Leo’s has gone through several hands over the years, but it has found stability under Hector Parodi, who I believe has owned the place since 1996 (I was told 14 years by a staffer, but those numbers seem off).  With so many other ethnic offerings brought in over the past decade or so, you’d think it might have suffered.  No.  Leo’s is still going strong.

You’ll find Leo’s Greek Castle at 2925 Kavanaugh Boulevard in the Hillcrest district in Little Rock.  (501) 666-7414 or check out the restaurant's Facebook page.