Fair Food On a Stick: 59 Choices

by Jamie Rhein on

Pair the words “fair food” with “stick,” and I think corn dogs. How pedestrian! How normal! How so early 1940s. That’s how long corn dogs have been fair food according to the corn dog history lesson at Food Services of America.

These days, the options for what you can lick, bite, chew, nibble or chaw on as you wander through the Midway or take in stellar entertainment options like pot-bellied pig races are dizzying. Here’s a video “Minnesota State Fair on a Stick” that serves as an ode to a summer and fall of not-so-healthy eating. The variety of people featured are as varied as the food. Unfortunately, this fair ended on Labor Day, but if you head to any fair or festival there’s bound to be food on sticks.

Here Come the Eurotrash!

by Iva Skoch on

Sure, we are cultured, good-looking and sophisticated. We are also snotty, pathetic, greasy-haired, and over-cologned. Yep, folks, I am talking Eurotrash. If you have ever been to Ibiza, you know what I’m talking about.

Before I get hundreds of responses accusing me of being an ugly American, let me clarify again that I am actually a European. Ugly European, if you like.

I came across Urban Dictionary’s list of definitions for Eurotrash. Here are their top three:

  1. Post-modern, degenerate, trendy, or out-of-style European cultural phenomena masquerading as avant-garde High Art. Its origins are primarily German/Austrian but have extended to France, Scandinavia, and Italy with success.
  2. A certain people and outlook, those who are products of a sneering, overly-socialized culture who take perverse pride in their stylized, postmodern, lazy lifestyles, and those who would choose to emulate this.
  3. A human sub-phylum characterized by its apparent affluence, worldliness, social affectation and addiction to fashion. Males are characterized by a semi-slovenly appearance (including half-shaven faces), greasy hair, rib-hugging shirts, tight jeans and loafers worn without socks. Women are easily distinguished by anorexia, over-bleached hair, gaudy jewelry, plastic surgery (particularly breast-enlargement) and their attachment to the male species. Both sexes greet each other with “air kisses,” immediately speak of their last trip (often Paris, Rome, Majorca), spend hours at “see-and-be-seen” restaurants and exhibit a world-weariness and pained sense of irony.

There are more.

If you are still puzzled, think the Beckhams, who have just recently successfully transitioned from Eurotrash to Calitrash.

How Much Would You Pay for a Pair of Lederhosen?

by Martha Edwards on

A new world record has been broken recently — most expensive pair of Lederhosen. A version of the traditional alpine outfit recently sold for 85,000 euros, which is $115,000. Lederhosen, which are traditionally made from the hide of an animal — typically a goat, pig or elk — is strangely enduring fashion trend in the Alps. This particular pair is adorned with 116 diamonds, each set in gold. Doesn’t that seem a bit … I dunno … excessive?

onsidered to be to the Alps what the kilt is to Scotland (according to the Lederhosen entry on Wikipedia), the leather knee-length shorts-and-suspender-combo can be worn while hiking outside, pounding back a few at Oktoberfest, or anywhere else, I suppose. Still, I don’t think I’ll be picking up a pair any time soon — and certainly not at that exorbitant price.

Don’t stop here — Gadling has a ton more Oktoberfest 2007 coverage!

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Gadling on the Road Archives

by Neil Woodburn on


Here at Gadling we pride ourselves in putting our money where our mouth is. In other words, we write about travel because we are all travelers. This is our passion, this is our hobby, this is our life.

Unfortunately, we can’t all travel 100% of the time. But, when we do hit the road, we tend to hit it rather well.

Over the last few years, our writers and correspondents have traveled the globe, absorbed their surroundings, converted what they’ve seen into zeros and ones on their laptop, and then digitally rearranged it for you right here on Gadling. Sometimes it might be a simple post, but other times we’ve built entire series around exotic locations. Sadly, as time passes, these features have died a lonely death, disappearing into the void of cyberspace never to be seen again.

As a result, we’ve decided to resurrect some of the very best and provide for them a nice, accessible home so that they may continue providing virtual sustenance to our readers. The link to this new home is just below our Gadling Writers on the Road section (which features our current writers on assignment). To explore our prior destinations, simply click on the Archives Button and you’ll soon be up to your knees in China, Beijing, Alaska, Haiti, Miami, St. Lucia, Tajikistan, the Balkans, and Trinidad & Tobago.

Enjoy!

Mushroom Pickers Unite!

by Iva Skoch on

Well, it’s that time of year again in the Czech Republic. Time for those atavistic hunter-gatherer instincts to be unleashed. Thousands of Europeans with crazed looks in their darting eyes, trembling fingers clutching baskets, socks rolled over their pant legs (ticks!), marching, probing, snooping, we stumble through the forests like zombies. We guard our secret spots, we spy on others for their secret spots, we come home lucky, or we come home dejected.

Yes, it’s mushroom-picking time.

With Czechs and Slovaks, at least, it’s an obsession. I’ve heard claims that 80% of us do it at least occasionally. And this is the time of year. A certain combination of weather conditions (usually rain then heat) makes these buggers sprout up, filling the forests. And collect them, we do. It’s a family affair, taking up our weekends. The fuller the basket, the better. They are sauteed, made into soups, dried for the winter.

The kind we hunt is called the “hrib,” also known as the boletus or porcini mushroom (pictured above).

Americans can’t seem to understand this custom, although there is ‘gold in them thar hills’: one need only read a recent New Yorker article about the fortunes made mushroom-picking in the woods of Oregon, for example. Wikipedia, in a well down article, lays mushroom picking down as a Slavic custom, only for those braving poisoning, using knowledge passed down for generations.