New York's County Fair Food

It's hot and sticky and miserable outside, so obviously it must be time for the county fair.

In Ohio, that is.

If I were still a reporter in Springfield, I would have spent each day this week at the Clark County Fair. It was one of my favorite weeks of the year. I not only got to write fun features, but also eat all the fried food I wanted for lunch.

My love of the fair started long before then. I was in 4-H from the third grade until I graduated high school, and my family would bring the pop-up camper to stay overnight at the fair and make my (and later, my sister's) 4-H and Junior Fair Board responsibilities easier to manage. The Defiance County Fair was the last big hurrah before school started the following week.

Our family also often went to the Ohio State Fair, and Paul and I returned a couple of times in college and after we graduated. But I haven't been to a fair of any shape or size for three years now. It might be a record.

When July and August rolls around, however, I always crave some good fair food. And by "good" I mean fried, fattening and ginormous. Luckily, I can get a lot of the same stuff around here -- although admittedly not all in one place, and never next to a cattle barn.

Clark County Fair food-alikes: There's a hole-in-the-wall near Union Square that sells fried Oreos, and an English restaurant here in Brooklyn with fried candy bars on the menu. Alas, it would be hard to beat the fair's cinnamon rolls, so I guess Cinnabon will have to do.

Defiance County Fair: We would get a big bag of freshly made donuts every year. Now Paul and I make our own and they're just as good. But I do miss the apple dumplings, and of course the strawberry shakes from the Shake Shack, where I toiled many hours at the fair, trying to eat just as many as I sold.

Ohio State Fair: The food wasn't as memorable here, although we always did have to get some ice cream in the pavilion with the butter statues -- always a life-size cow and a couple of other objects that varied. Sometimes we'd also get a bloomin' onion. Here in New York, Paul introduced me to Dallas BBQ's onion loaf, which is possibly even greasier and therefore even tastier.

Hot Dogs + Juice = Gray's Papaya (or Papaya King)

Gray's Papaya. It and competitor Papaya King are as ubiquitous in Manhattan as rats, roaches and Duane Reade.

Both are known for their juices (much more to choose from than papaya!) and hot dogs. I ate at one a year or two ago, but I can't remember which. They pretty much look the same to me, but this discussion on Chowhound tells me that not everyone agrees.


The drinks are pretty tasty. Paul and I made an impulse purchase of coconut juice at a Gray's Papaya a few weeks ago. It even had pulp in it.

As you can see from the photo above, Gray's Papaya is known for its "Recession Special" -- two hot dogs and a drink for $4.45. These ain't no gourmet dogs, but it is a meal under $5. Both are equally hard to find in New York.

Oh, and there's no such thing as lingering. Gray's Papaya has atmosphere -- but no seats.

Renewing Our Lease on New York

We haven't yet renewed the lease on our apartment, but we've effectively renewed our lease on New York.

Paul accepted a new job at the bank last week and expects to start in September. That means we'll be in New York for at least another year. Probably two.

Before Paul took the job we had some long discussions about how long we plan to stay in New York. We still haven't come to a decision. After all, when we first moved here, we planned to remain for two years, maybe three. This October is our third anniversary here.

Of course, we miss our family and friends in Ohio. The feeling is even more acute now, since we haven't been home since Christmas -- the longest either of us has ever been away. But neither of us feels that we are through with New York. There's so much to discover that three years isn't nearly enough. But then again, a lifetime probably isn't either.

I still feel a twinge of regret (and more than a twinge of guilt) when I think about the long gaps between visits home. But I'm happy. And even better, I'm content.