Currently viewing the tag: "McDonald’s"

Happily Ever After

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Valerie Nusbaum

You Know You’re a Local…

Randy and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary on October 15. I’m telling you this because our anniversary also marks the number of years we’ve lived in Thurmont. I moved here two weeks before our wedding, and Randy finished bringing in all of his stuff last week. We love it here. 

Thurmont and its residents were very welcoming to us right from the start, but as with any relatively small town or city, it takes a while to become known as a “local” or a fixture. A local is defined as an inhabitant of a particular area or neighborhood, a recognizable fixture. In recent years, Randy and I have been seeing signs that we’ve achieved “local” status. Below are some examples.

You know you’re a local when you not only know the names of all the guys who work at Direct To You gas station, but you also know all their nicknames and the names of their kids.

You know you’re a local when the sign no longer makes you giggle since you now know a junglecock is a bird.

You pull up to the Wendy’s drive-thru and Nina’s or Bev’s voice comes over the speaker saying, “Hi Valerie! Do you want your usual?”  That’s how you know you’re a local.

Randy used to walk into Brown’s Jewelers and it reminded us of when Norm walked into Cheers. If you’re a young person, you won’t understand that reference. It’s from the days when we watched those big screens in our living rooms and there were only 30-or-so channels. Anyway, Mr. Brown’s voice would come out of the back of the store yelling, “Randy!” Barb greeted Randy warmly, and everyone waved from behind the jewelry counters.  We’ll miss the store, and the friendship of the Browns and the lovely ladies who worked there.

I ran into my old friend Harlene Fogle the other day, and she mentioned reading about my life here in The Catoctin Banner. If that doesn’t qualify me as a local, I don’t know what does.

We’re both known regulars at Wendy’s, but Randy is also a McDonald’s frequent flyer. He may not know everyone there by name, but he comes home from buying a Diet Coke and describes all the people he has engaged with. Recognizing other locals might mean that you’re a local, too.  Sometimes locals can get away with a head nod or finger point.

You know you’re a local when you know which specials are served on what nights at Mountain Gate.  I love meatloaf, and I can get that on Friday night. Speaking of Mountain Gate, the locals know that Saturday and Sunday are the days when all the tourists go to the restaurant, so we locals try to avoid going then. However, the turkey special on Sunday can be ordered as takeout.

You’re definitely a local if you understand that on Catoctin Colorfest weekend, there are two choices: participate or get out of town.

You know you’re a local if it takes more time to chat with people you know than it does to buy your groceries when you go to the grocery store.

True locals get excited about winning a ribbon in the Community Show, and we give serious thought to what we should enter next year.  Locals attend as many community events as possible.

In the summers, we locals plan our week around what food we’ll eat on which nights at the carnivals.  Locals know the best places to park, too.

Locals fondly remember The Cozy, especially during the holiday season. Remember that display of lights? Heck, I can remember all the way back to when crab legs were on the menu.

Chances are if you’re a local, you know where Camp David is.  Did I ever tell you about the time that Randy and I were having an impromptu picnic at the nearby public picnic area? We were grilling hamburgers and minding our own business when a helicopter went flying overhead with several uniformed soldiers hanging out and aiming weapons at us. I guess we were deemed to be harmless, and I’m sure we’re not the only locals this has happened to. We can also identify the Secret Service vehicles around town, even though they’re usually marked otherwise. It’s a local thing.

It’s a great feeling to live in a place where we can be a part of the community.

We participate in trick or treat every year, handing out candy and treats to more than 300 costumed invaders, even though we only know a handful of the kids. Randy usually has to run in the door and turn off the porch light because we’ve run out of candy…again. He’s a good sport about it when the kids pick on him, too. It’s all part of being a fixture.  Why, some of the kids even have a nickname for Randy!

In any event, we’ve been here for 25 pretty good years, and we’re looking forward to many more.  Try as you might, we’re not easy to get rid of.

And I’d like to wish a very happy anniversary to my dear husband—aka Cranky Old Dude on the Corner, as the kids call him.

The Supermarket Gourmet

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

by Buck Reed

Burgers: The King of Sandwiches

Burgers hold a special place in the hearts of Americans. Whatever way you stack them, they definitely have the numbers on their side. With nearly 50 billion consumed a year, this means we eat about three burgers a week, and about 60 percent of all sandwiches ordered are, in fact, some sort of burger. As far as celebrities, we all know a character named J. Wellington Whimpey, who will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today. A not so well known celebrity is 100-pound-competitive-eater Molly Schuler, who holds the world’s record for fastest burger eater, consuming seven burgers in 1 minute 53 seconds. In case you were worried that she was walking away hungry, that included a 20-ounce Coke and side of fries.

As far as who invented the burger, it wasn’t a clown named Ronald. Most credit Fletcher Davis, who owned a lunch counter in Athens, Texas. In the early 1800s, he served a fried ground beef patty between two pieces of bread with mustard and a slice of Bermuda onion, and a pickle on the side. McDonald’s reopened, after closing its first restaurant in 1948, with a hamburger that cost 15 cents and for 4 cents more you could have it with cheese. Today, I have seen people drop a nickel and a dime on the ground and not even bother to pick it up. The McDonald’s menu included nine items, and they were known for speed and consistency.

Today, a burger with the works is dressed with lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle, along with a variety of condiments, and is available in any moderately priced restaurant. And, of course, anywhere they offer a burger, you can always get it with a slice of American cheese melted on top, thank you very much. Fancier joints might even offer you a choice of the kind of cheese you would like on your burger, ranging from cheddar to Swiss, as well as almost any other kind that you can imagine. As far as condiments, the basics are ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise, but you can also opt for barbeque sauce, salsa, Thousand Island dressing, bleu cheese dressing, guacamole, or just about anything the chef can imagine. My own Bistro Burger included bistro sauce, which was barbeque sauce mixed with mayonnaise.

In this day and age, everyone seems to be reinventing the burger. Some are looking back to the days when burgers were served with a fried egg on top. Right now, it is chic to come up with a cool name and then come up with the toppings for a unique burger. Like the Big Kahuna might have a grilled slice of fresh pineapple and barbeque sauce on it, or a southwest burger might have salsa, avocado, and a slice of cheddar cheese. Thinking outside the box, some chefs are adding thick-cut fried onion rings to their burger creations. Not stopping there, we are now finding menus that offer fried mozzarella sticks and jalapeno poppers on their burger creations. Onion jam and bacon jam are actually making some appearances that are adding a decadent panache to our burgers.

Let’s not forget the bun. I believe a sandwich is only as good as the bread it is served on, and a good burger is no exception. You can still do well with the cheap hamburger buns that are sold in any grocery bread aisle; but don’t overlook a good Kaiser roll, club roll, or even brioche roll. Now, they are even offering a good Hawaiian bread style roll to add a new dimension to your burger. Start with good bread and you can’t go wrong here.

Don’t be afraid to try something new. You never really know where the next big burger idea will come from. And who knows, you might even become famous…at least in the world of burgers.

Happily Ever After

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

Pumpkin, Anyone?

by Valerie Nusbaum

I always know when autumn is just around the corner because I start seeing television and online ads for products featuring the delicious flavor of pumpkin spice. There are coffees and teas and pancakes galore. The pancakes are good, but I don’t drink coffee and I don’t like flavored teas. Starbucks, McDonald’s, Dunkin’ Donuts, and many other chains have jumped on the pumpkin wagon. So has IHOP.

I’ve tried pumpkin yogurt, pumpkin-flavored cereal, and pumpkin seed granola. I didn’t love any of those products, and I didn’t care for the pumpkin-flavored instant oatmeal either. There are a plethora of breakfast choices out there if you happen to be a pumpkin lover. I just bought a box of pumpkin spice Cheerios, and I’ll let you know how those taste. Like cardboard, I’m guessing.

Then, there are all the cakes, cookies, pies, muffins, and breads.  My mom always bakes a batch of yummy pumpkin muffins for me when fall rolls around. I hope she’s reading this because I haven’t seen any muffins yet this year, and I’ve lost a few pounds. My mother-in-law loved pumpkin pie, but she wouldn’t eat any pie that wasn’t Mrs. Smith’s. She liked what she liked, and we always served her a Mrs. Smith’s pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving, unless some other brand was on sale and then we hid the box. Pumpkin bread with raisins and nuts is one of my brother’s favorite fall treats. And how could I forget pumpkin whoopie pies? Dunkin’ Donuts has a whole assortment of pumpkin donuts and treats, and they’re delicious.

Just this morning, I received an email from Harry & David. For only $89.99, I can buy a gorgeous and delicious two-layer pumpkin-shaped devil’s food cake. It’s frosted with orange icing and has a jaunty green stem sticking out the top. Or for $5.99, I can bake two chocolate bundt cakes, slap them together, and throw a few drops of red and yellow food coloring into some vanilla frosting. I can stick a couple of silk floral leaves in the hole and call it dessert.

My mother loves pumpkin butter on her toast. We’ve tasted pumpkin ice cream, and I even made pumpkin soup one year for Thanksgiving dinner. I won’t do that again. It was a whole lot of effort for very little taste, or else I did something wrong.

My friend, Teresa, buys a large pumpkin for Halloween, and after she and her kids make a jack-o-lantern, Teresa roasts the seeds.  She’s very talented.

Well, here’s the thing: I heard a news report on TV recently stating that a lot of products advertising “pumpkin spice” flavoring actually contain no pumpkin at all.  They contain cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and a few other things, but there’s not a lick of pumpkin in there.  Now, that’s not true of everything.  There are always exceptions, I’m sure. I did some research at the grocery store, and I admit that I had a hard time finding the word “pumpkin” listed in the ingredients in some of the products.

Luckily, pumpkins aren’t just for eating. Like Teresa, you can carve them up for Halloween, or keep them whole and decorate with them all through the fall. Pumpkins may be painted and decorated. They can be used as containers for flower arrangements or they can hold beef stew or soup, as is the tradition at Patsy Davies’s house.

Pumpkins can also be chunked, as in “shot out of a cannon.” We can go to pumpkin patches and pick our own beauties. We can also grow our own, as Randy has done in the past. One of the funniest things he ever did was enter a teeny, tiny pretty little home-grown pumpkin in the Thurmont Community Show. I swear that thing wasn’t more than five inches in diameter, and I razzed him something awful for having the nerve to enter it in the Show. I ate my words when the darned thing won “Best Pumpkin.”

Pumpkins come in all colors, shapes, and sizes, and they really do look pretty on our porches and tables. Whatever your pumpkin preference is, I hope you find something you enjoy and celebrate this beautiful season.

We always associate the month of November with Thanksgiving, but let’s not forget Veterans Day. Randy and I sincerely thank all of you Veterans and your families for your service and sacrifice. We couldn’t do what we do, if you hadn’t done what you did and continue to do.

We’re also sending our best wishes to you all for a very happy Thanksgiving.  This year has been a difficult one for our country, with all the hurricanes, floods, fires, disasters, shootings, and tragedies, not to mention the political climate.  It’s hard to remember to be grateful for the good things in our lives when there’s so much to worry over.

As we sit down to dinner on November 23, I’ll be thankful for my wonderful husband and mother and the rest of my extended family; for my friends, without whom I couldn’t get through the bad days; for a roof over our heads and food on the table; and for the ability to get out of bed in the mornings. I will remind myself that I am grateful for many other things as well, and then I will dig into something delicious that tastes like pumpkin.

 

happily ever after

By On · Add Comment · In Community News, Featured Articles

Must Be Love

by Valerie Nusbaum

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Randy.”

My mother has uttered that phrase to me many times over the years, but her most recent exclamation came a few weeks ago. Forgive me, but I need to give you some backstory for this tale to make sense.

Back in the summer, Mom and I were having lunch at a Roy Roger’s Restaurant with a few of Mom’s friends. I’m the designated driver, and also the interpreter, since most of them are wearing hearing aids and the rest can’t hear very well. But I digress…

I had gotten up to get something for someone when I noticed a man staring at me and grinning. I assumed that I must have known him, so I smiled back and mouthed, “Hello.”  The thought passed through my mind that he was probably a guy named Jeff with whom I had attended high school. Someone tugged on my sleeve and asked, “What did she say?” So I turned back to the ladies and promptly forgot all about the man.

A few months later, Mom and I were lunching at McDonald’s. She was at the counter waiting for her French fries. Mom always orders unsalted fries, so they will be fresh and hot. I turned around and saw the same man standing ten feet away. He was grinning at me again.

I thought, “That surely is Jeff something-or-other, because he clearly knows me from somewhere.”  I smiled back, and he started talking to me. He mentioned Mom, and told me about the route he travels for work. I nearly referred to him as Jeff, but then I noticed the name on his uniform shirt, and it wasn’t “Jeff.” Oops. I wracked my brain trying to figure out where our paths had crossed.

I discussed the man’s possible identities with Mom, but she didn’t know him either. As we were talking, he drove his truck up to the front window of McDonald’s and started waving and pointing.

I realized what he’d been pointing at when I walked out to my car after lunch. The man had stuck his business card in my car door and had written a note on the back for me to call him sometime. He’d listed all his phone numbers. Had he thought that I’d been flirting with him? I was only speaking to someone I thought was a former classmate. I was mortified and a little unsettled. How did he even know what I was driving?  Was he stalking me? Should a woman not even smile at a man anymore?

Hence, Mom’s warning for me not to tell Randy. Now, I’m not in the habit of keeping things from my husband, and since this particular incident had left me a bit rattled, I told Randy about it that evening. I half expected him to display a little anger or even a smidgen of jealousy, but that’s not in Randy’s makeup. He looked at the business card and said, “You should have told him that we already buy our propane from his company.  Clearly he was trying to drum up business.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh, be insulted, or smack Randy in the head like Cher did to Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck, and yell, “Snap out of it!”  Did my hubby really think that no one else could want me? I took the business card out of Randy’s hand, turned it over and handed it back to him.

“Gosh that guy is persistent,” was his response. Then the light bulb turned on. “Wait a minute. Was he trying to pick you up? Were you wearing your wedding ring?”

“Of course I was wearing my ring. I always wear it in public, except when I forget or when I’m doing dirty work. This was not my fault. I did nothing wrong.”

Randy thought about it for a bit longer, and then suggested that he call the guy’s company and report him for using his business card as a way to meet ladies. I told him to forget about it, and promised that if I ever see the man again, I’ll keep moving.

I did see him once more—again at McDonald’s. I pretended that I didn’t see him in the parking lot, but he pulled his truck up to the window and waved again. I barely responded. I hate being rude, but he clearly got the wrong idea when I was friendly.

I must confess, it’s been a long time since I’ve noticed a man noticing me. The ninety-year-old husbands of Mom’s friends don’t count, even if one of them did refer to me recently as “that sweet young thing.”  I was a tiny bit flattered by the gas man’s attention. I was also a bit scared that he might be a serial killer. I watch entirely too much television.

When I mentioned to Randy that I notice when other women appear to find him attractive, his response was, “If any other woman does think that of me, it’s only because she looks at you, and thinks ‘Wow!  If that guy can get a woman like that, he must be really special’.”  How could I argue with that? Yes, I know he’s full of it.

Having a husband who doesn’t get jealous isn’t the worst thing in the world.

I know he loves me. I love him, too. You can tell because he’s still breathing.

Happy Valentine’s Day!