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Beyond our legendary fairways you can immerse yourself in refreshing new adventures. Make a splash with the family at Rassie Wicker Park, drop a line in Aberdeen Lake or paddle your way to a revitalizing journey on the waters of Bear Creek. With so many opportunities to get your feet wet in our historic towns, you can dive into a life well played in the Pinehurst, Southern Pines and Aberdeen area.
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June 2019 DEPARTMENTS 13 Simple Life By Jim Dodson 16 Short Stories 19 Doodad By Grant Britt 21 Life’s Funny By Maria Johnson 23 Omnivorous Reader By D.G. Martin 27 Scuppernong Bookshelf 29 Papadaddy’s Mindfield By Clyde Edgerton
31 Drinking with Writers By Wiley Cash
34 Life of Jane By Jane Borden
36 Food for Thought By Jane Lear
39 True South By Susan S. Kelly 41 Gate City Journal By Cynthia Adams 45 Birdwatch By Susan Campbell 46 Wandering Billy By Billy Eye
FEATURES 49 Ode to My Backyard Garden Poetry by Martha Golensky
50 Root to Rise
By Jim Dodson The worldly palate of Cameron Klass
56 Sweet Dream
By Nancy Oakley Dolce & Amaro is more than just a pastry shop. It’s the chance of a lifetime
60 From Russia, With Love
By Maria Johnson Instagram tastemaker Guyla Lloyd creates a new home and life in Greensboro
68 Paw de Deux
By Ross Howell Or as we say in the South, “Paw Paw”
70 Sidecar Smackdown
By Billy Ingram and Annie Vorys Local bartenders mixed it up at a recent competition, producing some top-drawer tipples, according to two judges from O.Henry
By Ash Alder Cover Photograph By Amy Freeman
74 Arts Calendar 88 GreenScene 95 The Accidental Astrologer By Astrid Stellanova 96 O.Henry Ending By David C. Bailey
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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M A G A Z I N E
Volume 9, No. 6 “I have a fancy that every city has a voice.” 336.617.0090 1848 Banking Street, Greensboro, NC 27408 www.ohenrymag.com PUBLISHER
David Woronoff Jim Dodson, Editor • email@example.com Andie Stuart Rose, Art Director • firstname.lastname@example.org Nancy Oakley, Senior Editor • email@example.com Alyssa Rocherolle, Graphic Designer CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Cynthia Adams, David Claude Bailey, Harry Blair, Maria Johnson CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Mallory Cash, Lynn Donovan, Amy Freeman, Sam Froelich, John Koob Gessner, Bert VanderVeen, Mark Wagoner
A custom-fit investment plan is just a conversation away Done right, a financial advisor works with you to develop an investment plan designed to help you meet your unique goals. We can help you create your personalized plan, and we’ll review it with you on a regular basis to help keep you on track. Working together is all about you. Call for a complimentary portfolio consultation.
CONTRIBUTORS Ash Alder, Jane Borden, Grant Britt, Susan Campbell, Wiley Cash, Tony Cross, Clyde Edgerton, Billy Eye, Ross Howell Jr., Billy Ingram, Susan S. Kelly, Sara King, Brian Lampkin, Meridith Martens, D.G. Martin, Ogi Overman, Romey Petite, Angela Sanchez, Stephen E. Smith, Astrid Stellanova
Ginny Trigg, Advertising Director 910.693.2481, firstname.lastname@example.org Hattie Aderholdt, Advertising Manager 336.601.1188, email@example.com
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Darlene Stark, Circulation Director • 910.693.2488 Steve Anderson, Finance Director 910.693.2497
Private Client Group Alex Sigmon Branch Manager 806 Green Valley Rd. Greensboro, NC 27408 Phone: 336-545-7100 www.wellsfargoadvisors.com Investment and Insurance Products:
Wealth Brokerage Services Greg Costello Regional Brokerage Manager 100 N. Main St. Winston-Salem, NC 27150 Phone: 336-842-7309 www.wellsfargoadvisors.com NOT FDIC Insured
NO Bank Guarantee
MAY Lose Value
Wells Fargo Advisors is a trade name used by Wells Fargo Clearing Services, LLC, Member SIPC, a registered broker-dealer and non-bank ailiate of Wells Fargo & Company. © 2016 Wells Fargo Clearing Services, LLC. All rights reserved. 0518-03180 [99914-v1] A2062 (4327503_521508)
©Copyright 2019. Reproduction in whole or in part without written permission is prohibited. O.Henry Magazine is published by The Pilot LLC
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After withstanding decades of hurricanes, Wilmington’s Blockade Runner is ready to defy the odds once more By Jim Dodson
On October 10 of last year, Hurricane
Michael made landfall on the panhandle of Florida packing sustained winds of 160 mph, a storm verging on Category 5 that entered the record books as the third strongest hurricane on record. After fully devastating Mexico Beach, Michael churned toward the Carolinas as a tropical storm over the next two days, claiming 54 lives from Florida to Virginia, causing $25 billion in property damage.
On the afternoon Michael arrived in North Carolina, I watched on my iPhone weather app as the storm spread its mayhem over Charlotte and took some comfort that the winds and rain were expected to diminish to 30 mph tropical gusts by the time the storm reached the Triad. The winds and rain arrived on schedule around 3 p.m. Since we live in a neighborhood filled with century-old hardwoods, I stepped outside to see how our elderly trees were handling the winds after one of the wettest autumns on record. The winds suddenly increased and something blew off my roof with a clatter. It turned out to be a chimney cap, airlifted halfway across our front yard. As I walked over to pick it up, keeping an eye on the churning treetops, things got even crazier. I heard what sounded remarkably like an oncoming freight train and turned around just in time to see the peak of our neighbor’s roof vanish beneath what appeared to be a madly swirling cloud. Having once been dangerously close to a large tornado, I wasn’t anxious to repeat the experience. I headed straight inside to chase wife and dogs to the basement but suddenly remembered that I’d left the door to my home office over the garage standing ajar. Like one of those Russian babushkas who insisted on sweeping her stoop before evacuating the Chernobyl nuclear site, I foolishly bolted out the back door even as my phone began shrieking a weather alarm to take shelter immediately. Taking two steps at once, I reached the top of the garage steps just as the large wooden electrical pole at the rear of our property, bearing a major transformer and various cable lines, snapped like a twig and flew past me like the witch from The Wizard of Oz, crashing into our backyard with a vivid explosion of sparks. For several seconds, I stood there stunned by what I’d seen . . . until I had the good sense to turn around and bolt for the basement. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
What turned out to be a microburst or tornado, spawned by the fury of Michael’s tropical remnants, knocked over half a dozen ancient trees along our street and plunged the neighborhood into darkness for more than a week. We were among the fortunate ones, though. Our generator came on, and chainsaws came out and neighbors began appearing outside to help assess the damage and begin the cleanup process. Several folks on the street suffered major damage from trees that toppled directly onto their houses, but fortunately there we no serious injuries on our side of town. My thoughtful neighbor Ken, who lives across the street and had a massive oak take out his center chimney and new second-floor bathroom renovation, shook his head and said it best. “Incredible, isn’t it? Nature’s power always seems to have the final word.” A few weeks ago, I mentioned this frightening scenario and Ken’s comment to Bill Baggett as we sat together in a newly renovated room on the top floor of the historic Blockade Runner Hotel at Wrightsville Beach. Baggett, 72, simply smiled. “Nature’s fury has the only word,” he added. With the first of June looming — the official start of the Atlantic hurricane season that lasts until November 30 — Baggett and his sister Mary, who jointly own and operate arguably the most beloved and well-known hotel on the North Carolina coast, are something akin to experts on the fickle fury of hurricanes and the unpredictable damage they leave in their aftermath. Since their family purchased the Blockade Runner from its original owner, Lawrence Lewis of Richmond, Virginia, in 1971, the Baggetts — who assumed operational management of the property in 1984 — have ridden out half a dozen major Atlantic hurricanes and several near misses while hunkered down inside their cozy seaside hotel. Their legacy began with Hurricane Diana in 1984 and continued through last September’s Hurricane Florence, the sea monster that preceded Michael and turned Wilmington and much of Eastern North Carolina into a vast world of water, marooning the Port City for weeks. In 1984, Diana blew out the hotel’s old-style windows and flooded the ground floor of the hotel with wind-driven rain. “Structurally the hotel was fine. It’s made of reinforced industrial concrete.” Baggett recalled that the worst thing that happened was that the covering for the air vents blew off, allowing rain to flood rooms and public spaces, while destroying plaster walls and ceilings “The hotel was soaked, a real mess, physically and legally,” he said. When the Baggetts declined to accept their insurance company’s insufficient payout of just $12,000 to cover the extensive damages, they took their case to court, enlisting an expert witness in the person of a retired meteorologist from June 2019
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the Miami Hurricane Center named Robert Simpson, for whom the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane scale is named. His testimony resulted in a more satisfactory settlement — and a new insurance company going forward. Three hurricanes in quick succession followed within a decade. Hurricanes Fran (September 1996; 27 fatalities, $5 billion total damage), Bonnie (August 1998, no fatalities but 950,000 people evacuated from the Carolinas, total damage: $1 billion) and Floyd (September 1999, extensive flooding, 76 fatalities, $6.5 billion in total damage) tested the moxie of the Baggetts and their stout lodging. In 1989, even Hurricane Hugo took a passing swipe that blew out Blockade Runner’s windows but otherwise left the property unscathed. “Fran was pretty bad,” Baggett recalled. “It took a typical path up the Cape Fear and right over the top, sucking up water from both sides of the hotel — the ocean on one side, the sound on the other. For a while, it was like being in an aquarium,” he allowed with a laugh. “There were six of us in the hotel that night — Mary and myself, one of our cooks and several maintenance folks. Around 11 p.m., the window wall blew out and the water came rushing in, ruining carpets and floors. It was a long night but really the damage in that instance was fortunately fairly minimal. The hotel itself was fine.” In Fran’s aftermath, in fact, emergency crews from the Red Cross, power companies and relief agencies billeted at the Blockade Runner, which was up and running in a matter of days. “The real issue,” Baggett explained, “was that Fran did serious damage to docks along the sound — prompting fears that the annual Flotilla might be cancelled. Fortunately, everyone worked hard to get the island back in shape and the event came off.” For her part, Hurricane Bonnie looked fearsome but passed over relatively quickly, moving so swiftly she only took a portion of the Blockade Runner’s roof. Floyd, however, brought rain on a Biblical scale that flooded numerous towns across the Eastern portions of the state, killing livestock and damaging crops. But once again, with its new roof, the Blockade Runner was updated and “hurricane ready,” as Bill Baggett put it. When Hurricane Matthew banged along the entire east coast in early October of 2016, the hotel barely noticed its passing. And then, last September, came Florence — a Cat-4 monster that brought new levels of devastation to Wilmington and surrounding region. “We were a little concerned that she was predicted to come ashore as a Cat-4 hurricane, but we planned to stay in the hotel and ride it out regardless,” said Hurricane Bill Baggett. “I mean, where would we evacuate to — some stick-built motel on the mainland? This hotel is made from industrial The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Simple Life reinforced concrete. Besides, by the time the hurricane was on top of us, the only real concern we had — besides water — was the wind.” By the time Florence rolled over Wrightsville Beach early on Friday morning, September 14, wind shear had weakened the storm to Category 1, wind gusting to 105 mph, which was still sufficient to take out the roof of the Blockade Runner’s balcony and soak some of the hotel’s premium seaside suites. The major problem with Florence was a record high storm surge of 10 to 13 feet at high tide and the volume of rain. Over two days the storm stalled and lingered over the region, dumping more than 45 inches of rain in places — including on top of the hotel — downing thousands of power lines and trees, making Florence the wettest tropical cyclone to ever hit the Carolinas. “We lost vents again and had water in some of our tunnels,” Baggett told me, “but for the most part we were in better shape than most people around us.” Because of their working partnership with BELFOR, the property damage specialists who work across the country, response teams were on the site within a day, bringing emergency fuel that allowed the hotel to operate its three large cooling generators and drying machines. In the aftermath of Florence, much of Wilmington was underwater for the next two weeks, as were numerous towns and cities across Eastern North Carolina. Fifty-seven deaths were attributed to the storm, and $24 billion in damages to property in North Carolina alone, more than the cost of Matthew and Floyd combined. As many have done in the wake of Florence, in the process of repairing the damage to their hotel balcony suites, the Baggetts decided to undertake a comprehensive renovation of their landmark hotel, enlisting designer Terry Allred to give the property a fresh new tropical look from top to bottom. The extensive $11 million redo, which includes makeovers of every guest room, dining room and public spaces, is ready to welcome longtime customers and perhaps a new generation of beachcombers to the hotel just as a new summer vacation season dawns. “Hurricanes are amazingly unpredictable things,” Bill Baggett mused as he showed me through the bright new suites on the balcony floor. “It’s a new roll of the dice every time one of those storms comes out of the Caribbean. But with a jewel like this, Mary and I feel like we are stewards of the hotel. It’s been a pleasure to try and improve it over the years, regardless of whatever comes at us from the sea.” He paused and smiled. “One thing for sure. When the next one comes, we’ll still be here in the hotel.” OH Contact Editor Jim Dodson at email@example.com.
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Short Stories To the Tables
Meaning, Community Tables, which, for 32 years, has served Thanksgiving dinner to community members in need. We know what you’re thinkin’: Why mention Thanksgiving in June? Because in order to feed the masses this year, the organization needs your help now, especially considering the tables were, well, turned on Community Tables last year — with reduced funds and higher turkey prices owing to the hurricanes that flooded poultry farms Down East. It cost about $5 to feed each person (and that number will likely rise). That’s 1,060 pounds of turkey, 960 pounds of mashed potatoes, 900 pounds of green beans and 900 pounds of cornbread stuffing, to give you an idea. In spite of its struggles, the nonprofit has bigger plans: Partnering with Simple Gesture, which collects donations of canned goods each month, it will extend its mission to local schools. Care to lend a hand? Then please feel free to make a taxdeductible donations to the Community Foundation of Greater Greensboro (noted for the Thanksgiving Day Operations Fund), 330 South Greene Street, Suite100, Greensboro, NC 27401.
Looking for a sugar buzz without the guilt? Then head to GreenHill (200 North Davie Street) to have a gander at Sweet, which opened last month. On view through July 14, the exhibition explores sweet and processed foods as pop culture bellwethers through the paintings of Rachel Campbell, Bethany Pierce and Stacy Crabill, and multimedia installations of Kristin Baumlier-Faber, Jillian Ohl, Paul Russo, among others. Look for related activities, such as discussions of food, artists talks, and a food-and-art party on July 13, featuring cake-decorating demos, still-life painting, vegetable carving, food fonts — and as you’d expect, tasty eats. Info: greenhillnc.org.
Forget the wienies and ’s’mores, but encourage your kids to keep the campfires burning at French Week (June 24–28), a weeklong Junior Chefs Summer Camp, courtesy of Reto’s Kitchen (600 South Elam Avenue). In addition to honing their culinary chops, your young ’uns will also learn the particulars of menu-planning, make crafts, meet local farmers and potentially become the next Alain Ducasse or Jacques Pépin, learning la cuisine française. Later in the summer, at Reto’s Ciao! Italian Week (July 8–12) they’ll get the opportunity to become premier pasta makers. Other themes cover world cuisine, good ole American classics (chicken pot pie, anyone?) and Mediterranean munchies. Camps last Monday–Friday, 9 a.m. until 2 p.m. — just in time for Junior to fix dinner before you get home from work! For dates and registration: ticketmetriad.com.
So you got a little carried away planting tomatoes, zucchinis, green beans and peppers, and now that you’ve picked ’em all, they’ve taken over your kitchen counter. How to avoid wasting perfectly good vegetables? With Share the Harvest, a program of the North Carolina Cooperative Extension of Guilford County. Taking a cue from Plant a Row for the Hungry, an initiative of the Garden Writers’ Association of America, the Extension calls on its extensive network — community gardens, food agencies, individuals, to name a few — to deliver any unwanted, fresh produce at various drop-off sites around the county. Once it’s collected and sorted at Interactive Resource Center, various hunger-fighting agencies, such as Triad Health Project, Backpack Beginnings and Mustard Seed Community Health will deliver the produce to those in need. Drop-off sites will be open from June 3 to September 30. For a complete list, go to: sharetheharvestguilfordcounty.org.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Little Boys Blue
Meaning, Chef Tim & Clay, who will preside over Blueberry Pancake and Celebration Day on June 22 at Greensboro Farmers Curb Market (501 Yanceyville Street). Just think about all those antioxidants coursing through your veins — all from the humble, tiny, justplucked globes of blue fruit. Never mind the fact that they’ll be sizzling in a sea of batter on a butter-coated griddle and smothered in a layer of thick, gooey syrup oozing from a carafe; they’re the perfect salute to the lazy, hazy days of summer. So stock up on a shortstack and enjoy! Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.
Ogi Sez Ogi Overman
With apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein and anyone who performed in their musical Carousel, June really is bustin’ out all over. The evidence is everywhere, but for our purposes, it’s at the music venues in and around the Triad, both indoor and outdoor. So take in a show or three and celebrate the season.
Who’s Your Crawdaddy?
You are! That is, if you’re an early bird at the Piedmont Triad Farmers Market (2914 Sandy Ridge Road, Colfax), which is hosting a Crawfish Boil on June 15. Starting at 10 a.m. until the crustaceans run out, you can purchase a minimum of one pound of crawfish cooked in Cajun seasonings or five pounds of fresh, uncooked critters (there’s a limit of 25 pounds per person). Vendors will accept cash only, and you’ll need a cooler for carrying home this delicacy. And when it’s time to spread out your feast and laisser les bons temps rouler, we dare you to suck the heads after you’ve scarfed down the tails. Info: ncar.gov.
Hogs and Heads
That’s code for beer and barbecue. On June 15, Little Brother Brewing and smoke master Skip Purcell will team up to explore the nuances of these beloved American classics at Adult Cooking: Brews and ‘Cue Dinner, hosted by Greensboro Children’s Museum (220 North Church Street). Learn about regional differences in barbecuing meat, and sample pairings of three meats and beers before sitting down to a good ole, NC-style pig pickin’ with sides. We can hear you squeal with delight. Participants must be 21 or older to register at gcmuseum.com.
One lump, or two? Regardless of how you prefer your cuppa — sipping it with pinkie extended or not — you’ll still be doing your part to preserve our local history by joining in the Dolly and Me Tea (O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road). Benefiting the Greensboro History Museum, the tea welcomes families — and their favorite dolls — while an interpreter in the guise of Greensboro’s own favorite doll, Dolley Madison, makes the rounds. There will be craft stations, storytelling, tasty eats of course, and a silent auction — all in the name of keeping the Gate City’s past alive. Tickets: (336) 373-2982 or greensborohistory.org.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
• June 6, Ramkat: If I were limited to one show and one show only this month, I must say that Shinyribs would be it. The Austin-based octet is the personification of the aforementioned celebration of life. Call it country-soul or swampfunk or whatever, just don’t call in sick when this no-holds-barred band is within driving distance. • June 14, Carolina Theatre: Did you catch
last month’s 60 years of Motown special on TV? If you didn’t (or did) there’s also a road show with a similar theme, titled Forever Motown. It features no fewer than seven vocalists, including original Spinners lead singer G.C. Cameron and former Temptations lead singer Glenn Leonard. It hits all the highlights, from Marvin to Smokey from Diana to Stevie, and then some.
• June 19, Carolina Theatre, Durham: I
wouldn’t run folks down to Durham for just any act, but when it’s Steve Earle I have to make an exception. In my book he’s among the finest of a small handful of living American songwriters. His ability to find humor and meaning in the gut-punches of life puts him in that elite space inhabited by Jackson Browne, Rodney Crowell and few others.
• June 22, Greensboro Arboretum: Time to break out the faerie wings and funky costumes for the 15th annual Summer Solstice celebration. While hardly contained to a musical event, it nonetheless features eight big acts on three stages, headlined by Soul Central and including Crystal Bright and the Silver Hands. Prepare to be glittered. • June 27, LeBauer Park: The Children’s
Home Society Beach Blast has been going strong for 16 years and has become a downtown afterwork institution. The lineup is killer again (check local listings) but they may have saved the best for last with the Tams. I feared that when Joe Pope died, so would the Tams, but I’m happy to report that I was way wrong. With Little Red at the helm, they put on a show every bit as good as the Castaways in 1969. Millennials, ask your parents. June 2019
Free For All EMF continues to broaden its appeal with concerts gratis to the public
W R I G H T S V I L L E
B E A C H
GOOD TIMES IN THE GARDENS
f you thought classical music was out of your class, here’s your chance to elevate your status with no strain on your wallet. For the second year in a row, the Eastern Music Festival presents its Pay What You Can orchestral celebration June 28. “We decided that first Friday night of the festival was a good introduction to the whole shootin’ works, the whole shebang,” says EMF Executive Director Chris Williams. “One of my board members said, ‘Let’s go find a foundation to support it.’ And the Mebane Foundation, which does educational work, said they thought this would fit beautifully, agreed to provide the funds so we could make that one concert free and open to everyone.” The Greensboro billionaire Allen Mebane, who made his fortune in textiles with Unifi, launched his namesake foundation to ensure that all children, “regardless of race or socioeconomic background, should have the opportunity reach their highest potential in school, in career, and in life.” That philosophy dovetails perfectly with the EMF’s goals of exposing young people to the arts through an intensive, hands-on learning process and attracting the audience to see their accomplishments in performance. In this case, you get to see all the EMF’s orchestral musicians onstage in one night. The Faculty orchestra plays one big piece, then the two student orchestras will split a Brahms symphony with each playing two movements of the symphony. “You get three orchestras playing two pieces, for whatever you can afford,” Williams says. “Last year we tried it, we were very quiet about it, weren’t sure how it would work. It brought in some families, some students who had maybe not taken the leap forward into EMF yet, that had not come before because they were curious but not willing to commit. It got people interested and excited right away.” To rev up the excitement, the EMF hosts a chamber crawl June 15, partnering with a handful of musical ensembles for an afternoon of free performances along Elm Street. “Last year we did eight performances in eight venues — plus a little party vibe at the end,” Williams says. Otherwise, the rich array of concerts and guest artists audiences have come to expect from EMF will continue through next month. On July 14, the festival goes on the road to Boone for a one-night appearance at the Appalachian Summer Festival, an encore performance of the Eastern Festival Orchestra featuring pianist Awadagin Pratt. And a beefed-up, second-line soundtrack — a two-week program for euphonium and tuba, much like EMF’s guitar program — should put some pep in your step, ensuring a brassy summer kickoff for the venerable festival. — Grant Britt OH
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Info: easternmusicfestival.org The Art & Soul of Greensboro
EVENTS 6/ 2
Sundays @ Chef Reto’s: Crepe Brunch Pop Up Meal Reto’s Kitchen 11:30 am
Sundays @ Chef Reto’s: Mediterranean Fish Feast Pop Up Dinner Reto’s Kitchen 6:00 pm
The Basics of Cooking Fish
Indie Summer Teen Writing Workshops
Cooking Class Reto’s Kitchen 6:00 pm
Workshop Scuppernong Books 9:00 am
6/12 German Night out Cooking Class Reto’s Kitchen 6:00 pm
Summer Junior Chef’s Camp: Bonjour! French Week Cooking Camp Reto’s Kitchen 9:00 am
Palliative Care vs. Hospice Care: What’s the Difference? Lunch & Learn The Lusk Center 12:00 pm
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Wine Dinner 1618 Seafood Grille 6:30 pm
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Chappellet Vineyards Wine Dinner
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Turf Luck Mowing with the flow in suburbia
By Maria Johnson
Timing is everything, but
the more seasons that pass, the more I see that timing is nothing unless you have the right tools and experience to use when opportunity presents itself.
Take our lawn mower. Please. For 20-plus years, we — and by “we” I mean my husband — managed our halfacre Eden with a gigantic walk-behind mower, a self-propelled Troy-Bilt purchased soon after we moved in. Jeff claimed to love using Big Red. Lulled by the motor’s drone, marching to whatever cadence the height of the grass dictated, he entered a Zen state that fullthroated shouts and piercing whistles failed to penetrate. He passed (pressed?) the experience onto our sons, who learned that walking behind a 300-pound machine is one thing. Turning it is quite another. Hence, one learns to smooth corners into curves. Jeff tended Big Red lovingly, changing the oil, replacing the air filter, replacing the front wheels as needed, carving out a snug parking place in the garage. It was a beautiful relationship. Until the mower wouldn’t crank. Jeff called in my motor-head brother for a garage consultation. They circled the patient, prodded, postulated. Indicating the severity of the situation, they consulted the owner’s manual and diagnosed the problem: a bad valve. They carried their findings to a farm machinery dealer, who delivered a grim news: It would cost almost as much to fix the engine as it would to buy a new mower. We all knew what that meant: Big Red was a goner. “Oh, well,” I said. After all, we had a smaller mower, too, and over the years, we’d expanded the natural areas and shrunk the lawn. That was a good thing, right? Jeff was morose. He parked Big Red in its usual berth, where it lay in state for weeks. Occasionally, I asked when we could shuck our black armbands and wheel the deceased to the curb. Soon, he promised. Soon. Yard life moved on, but the garage was getting crowded and therefore, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I submit that a reasonable person could expect that one night I would pull our new car into the garage and scratch the bumper a little — OK, a lot — on a seed spreader that had been displaced by a new de-thatcher because Big Red was taking up so much space. This on the eve of our neighborhood yard sale. Early the next morning, Jeff and Big Red said their goodbyes. I gave them time alone. The dew was still on the clover when Jeff donned his mowing cap and greenstained running shoes and wheeled the mower to a grassy corner where curb met driveway. He walked back to the house, head down. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
He had taped a sign to the handle: “FREE. DOES NOT RUN.” Acceptance being the final stage of grief, I reasoned, it was time to enjoy the show. I poured another cup of coffee and perched by a window as the cul-de-sac clogged with cars full of early morning bargain hunters. In less than three minutes, a pickup truck backed up to the curb. A young man and two women got out, flipped down the tailgate and circled the mower. The guy stooped to lift the front. The women took the sides. “They’re never gonna lift that thing,” Jeff said. He was right. The trio rotated: Nada. Rotated again: Nope. The guy leaned on the handles and popped a wheelie as the women tried to lift the front: Sorry. They piled in the truck and drove away, we guessed in search of a ramp. Would the mower be there when they returned? The drama intensified. In less than two minutes, another truck backed up to the same spot. This time, two middle-aged fellows — obviously in need of hernias — emerged. Same dance steps — heave-sigh, heave-sigh, heave-sigh, damn — plus a good measure of spitting and standing with hands on hips. They, too, rumbled away frustrated. Oh, to have had a stand selling lemonade and ramps. I found it rather honorable that neither group had removed the mower’s up-forgrabs sign. It enhanced my faith in humans. But not as much as the next guy who walked up. He was a white-haired fellow with a belly that said he’d digested whatever life had served. He studied the mower, disappeared for a moment, and reappeared in the driveway in his surferstyle Chevy wagon, an ideal vehicle for stuffing with yard sale finds. Aha. A different approach. Using the slight incline of the driveway as a ramp, he rolled the mower to the truck, tipped it back and rested the front wheels on his bumper. “Still too heavy,” Jeff said. Sure enough. But the old fellow was too close to quit. He drew a bead on the house across the street, which had attracted a crowd. Leaving the mower propped on his bumper — in other words, “It’s mine” — he walked across the street and returned a few minutes later with two strapping guys. Together, they easily picked up the rear end of the mower and slid it into the hold. Violà. Granddad had the right tool — the low-slung surfer truck. He used the advantage at hand — the driveway. He claimed the ground he’d gained. Plus, he asked for help. We couldn’t help but laugh and feel good about whatever lay in Big Red’s next life. Mow in peace. OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor of O.Henry. June 2019
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The Mothers of Invention
The Omnivorous Reader
A peek inside the private lives of writers
By D.G. Martin
How much impact do mothers of great au-
thors have on their children’s writings?
Ask Daniel Wallace, creative writing professor at UNC-Chapel Hill and author of the humorous and poignant Big Fish. In a new book, Mothers and Strangers: Essays on Motherhood from the New South, edited by North Carolina writers Lee Smith and Samia Serageldin, Wallace writes about his mother. “My mother was twelve years old the first time she got married; her husband seventeen. This is how she told it, anyway, over and over again how she was married when she was twelve, and her husband’s name was John Stephens, and they ran off together to Columbiana, Alabama, where they found a judge who would marry them.” As Wallace explains, his mother, Joan, and John were at a community swimming pool, and “with the crazy logic of two kids who were in love and in the grip of some uncontrollable hormones — trying to find any way to be together, to have sex with each other and make it right, make it okay somehow — they decided to get married, And they decided to get married that very day. Still in their bathing suits . . . ” Joan set out, writes Wallace, “not to live as man and wife with John, because that wasn’t going to happen, but to have sex as a newly married couple might: with a feral eagerness. But ‘legally,’ and with the unintentional blessing of her mother. Where they had sex is unclear to me — my mother just said ‘everywhere they could’ — and they continued thusly until somehow my grandparents found out about it and had the marriage annulled. ‘It was a summer marriage,’ she said.” Wallace’s mom told this story to everyone. “It was the perfect story,” Wallace writes, “because it cut to the chase of the kind of woman my mother was and who she always had been: defiant, sexual, shocking.” Wallace says he got his “oversharing” storytelling gifts from her. “She was a great storyteller, and much more creative than I ever gave her credit for. Because what I came to learn after a little bit of sleuthing, is that it wasn’t really true, this story she told. It didn’t happen like this at all.” You will have to read Wallace’s entire essay to get something closer to the real truth. But even before we get to that point we can ask, why did Wallace’s mom lie about this story? Wallace tries to answer, “We learn more about people through the lies they tell than we do from the truths they share. I think this is why I became a fiction writer in the first place. It’s how I was raised.” Thank goodness. Otherwise, we would have missed Big Fish, Extraordinary Adventures, and Wallace’s four other imagination-filled novels. Wallace’s essay is just one of 28 about authors’ mothers collected by Smith and Serageldin in Mothers and Strangers. The contributors, all respected authors, include Wallace, Belle Boggs, Marshall Chapman, Hal Crowther, Clyde Edgerton, Marianne Gingher, Jaki Shelton Green, Sally Greene, Stephanie Elizondo Griest, Jacquelyn Dowd Hall, Eldridge “Redge” Hanes, Lynden Harris, Randall Kenan, Phillip Lopate, Michael Malone, Frances Mayes, Jill McCorkle, Melody Moezzi,
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Elaine Neil Orr, Steven Petrow, Margaret Rich, Omid Safi, James Seay, Alan Shapiro, Bland Simpson, Sharon K. Swanson and, of course, the two editors. In comments about the book, Smith emphasizes that the relationships and experiences between mothers and children are varied. Each is unique. She explains, “America’s traditional Hallmark conception of Motherhood (note the caps) takes a real beating in these essays. The whole idea of motherhood is hampered by the stereotypes and preconceptions associated with it — mothers are selfless, right? Automatically loving and giving and happy with their biological and limited role, making biscuits from scratch and sewing all our clothes, yadayada. Almost nobody had a mother like that.” Then she confesses, “Except me, I guess. Actually, my own sweet mother really did all these things, though she suffered terribly from depression when she quit teaching, which she had loved, to ‘stay home and take care of you.’” In the book’s foreword Smith explains, “She sent me down to visit my lovely Aunt Gay-Gay in Birmingham, Alabama, every summer for two weeks of honestto-God Lady Lessons. Here I’d learn to wear white gloves, sit up straight, and walk in little Cuban heels. I’d learn proper table manners, which would then be tested by fancy lunches at ‘The Club’ on top of Shades Mountain. I’d learn the rules: ‘A lady does not point. A lady eats before the party. A lady never lets a silence fall. A lady does not sit like that!’” Smith’s description of her feelings for her loving parents and traditional upbringing will not surprise her fans, who have come to admire the loving respect with which Smith treats the main characters of her novels and short stories. Jill McCorkle’s mother had a full-time job as a secretary while other mothers “were staying home and doing the June Cleaver thing.” McCorkle never felt slighted. She marvels at how her mother and her postal worker dad “owned a home and sent two children to college and faithfully tithed to the church.” “Of course,” she continues, “the answer to that question is that they did without a lot for themselves.” Her latest book, Life After Life, is set in a nursing-retirement home, where June 2019
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Omnivorous Reader some residents are struggling with dementia. In her essay, she describes her mother’s current dementia. Most often she does not recognize her daughter. McCorkle writes, “If there is a sliver of grace to be pulled from the gnarled up tangle of dementia, it is that little bit of time given to loved ones to fully appreciate the scope of a whole life while the individual is still there and breathing and every now and then, for the briefest second, visible.” Other writers describe different experiences with their mothers. Serageldin grew up in a prominent Egyptian family that was put into a stressful situation after the 1952 revolution. Threatened confiscation and arrests were part of the picture, but “she colluded with her mother’s pretense of normality, sensing that the illusion was more for the adult’s sake.” Clyde Edgerton’s mother, Truma, was born to sharecropper parents who worked land in what is now the Umstead State Park near the RaleighDurham airport. When her father died, the family moved to Durham, taking a cow with them. When she was 12 years old, she went to work in a hosiery mill. Edgerton writes, “To my knowledge she never considered her upbringing to be in any way adverse.” Edgerton lists some of her habits: “She’d never waste water. If she turned on a faucet for warm water, she’d collect the water that was getting warm and use it to water plants. “She loved to listen to and tell and laugh about family stories — often the same ones over and over. Those stories were among my most special inheritances.” Clyde says that Truma and her two sisters raised him. He includes sections from his second novel, Walking Across Egypt, that are based on his mother. Then he writes, “That’s my mother. I wish you could have known her in person as I did. I think of her almost every day. I know I find solace in natural things, simple things — like trees, flowers, and birds — because of her inspired example of embracing and finding pleasure in the simple free gifts the earth provides . . . She never guessed that the son she hoped would be a concert pianist or a missionary would end up writing ‘talk’ for a living.” These essays and all of the others are readers’ treasures. Short, written crisply by some of the region’s best authors, each one gives an inside look at the writer’s private life and how the mother faced and dealt with different sets of challenges, ones that have, for better or worse, helped make the writings of each author what they are today. OH D.G. Martin hosts North Carolina Bookwatch Sunday at 11 a.m. and Tuesday at 5 p.m. on UNC-TV. The program also airs on the North Carolina Channel Tuesday at 8 p.m. To view prior programs go to: http:// video.unctv.org/show/nc-bookwatch/episodes/. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
The culinary future reveals itself in several June releases
Compiled by Brian Lampkin
We’re in luck! June brings us dozens
of new books on cooking, food and the culinary life. You may not yet think of algae as a food source, but maybe we can change your mind. And do you find yourself collecting cookbooks without ever using the recipes inside? We have a solution: The booksellers at the store at which you purchased said cookbook would love to taste your talents! Drop off a dish (at your convenience, of course).
June 4: The Truffle Underground: A Tale of Mystery, Mayhem, and Manipulation in the Shadowy Market of the World’s Most Expensive Fungus, by Ryan Jacobs (Clarkson Potter, $16). The New York Times says “Jacobs is an unstoppable and captivating guide through the dark underbelly of the world’s most glamorous fungus. This is the ultimate truffle true-crime tale.” June 4: Daily Bread: What Kids Eat Around the World, by Gregg Segal (Powerhouse, $40). As globalization alters our relationship to food, photographer Gregg Segal has embarked on a global project asking kids from around the world to take his “Daily Bread” challenge. Each child keeps a detailed journal of everything he or she eats in a week, and then Segal stages an elaborate portrait of them surrounded by the foods they consumed. The colorful and hyper-detailed results tell a unique story of multiculturalism and how we nourish ourselves at the dawn of the 21st century. June 4: The Fate of Food: What We’ll Eat in a Bigger, Hotter, Smarter World, by Amanda Little (Harmony, $27). Climate models show that global crop production will decline every decade for the rest of this century due to drought, heat and flooding. Water supplies are in jeopardy. Meanwhile, the world’s population is expected to grow another 30 percent by mid-century. So how, really, will we feed 9 billion people sustainably in the coming decades? “What we grow and how we eat are going to change radically over the next few decades. In The Fate of Food, Amanda Little takes us on a tour of the future. The journey is scary, exciting, and, ultimately, encouraging,” writes ” Elizabeth Kolbert, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Sixth Extinction. June 11: Slime: How Algae Created Us, Plague Us, and Just Might The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Save Us, by Ruth Kassinger (Houghton Mifflin, $26). There are as many algae on Earth as stars in the universe, and they have been essential to life on our planet for eons. Algae created the Earth we know today, with its oxygen-rich atmosphere, abundant oceans and coral reefs. Crude oil is made of dead algae, and algae are the ancestors of all plants. Today, seaweed production is a multibillion dollar industry, with algae hard at work to make your sushi, chocolate milk, beer, paint, toothpaste, shampoo and so much more. In Slime we’ll meet the algae innovators working toward a sustainable future: from seaweed farmers in South Korea and scientists using it to clean the dead zones in our waterways, to entrepreneurs fighting to bring algae fuel plastics to market. June 11: Incredible Vegan Ice Cream: Decadent, All-Natural Flavors Made with Coconut Milk, by Deena Jalal (Page Street, $21.99). Deena Jalal is the owner and founder of FoMu Ice Cream, a plant-based frozen treat company with multiple shops in the Boston area and distribution to stores along the East Coast. “Deena’s simple yet superbly flavorful ice creams are the perfect solution for a guilt-free indulgence!” says Rebecca Arnold, founder and owner of Whole Heart Provisions. June 25: Drive-Thru Dreams: A Journey Through the Heart of America’s Fast-Food Kingdom, by Adam Chandler (Flatiron, $27.99). Most any honest person can own up to harboring at least one fast-food guilty pleasure. In Drive-Thru Dreams, Adam Chandler explores the inseparable link between fast food and American life for the past century. The dark side of the industry’s largest players has long been scrutinized and gutted, characterized as impersonal, greedy, corporate, and worse. But, in unexpected ways, fast food is also deeply personal and emblematic of a larger-than-life image of America. June 25: The Peach Truck Cookbook: 100 Delicious Recipes for All Things Peach, by Stephen K. Rose & Jessica N. Rose (Scribner, $28). From first bites to easy lunches, from mouth-watering dinner dishes to sumptuous desserts, The Peach Truck Cookbook captures the Southern cooking renaissance with fresh, delectable, orchard-to-table recipes that feature peaches in every form. Whether you’re craving peach pecan sticky buns, peach jalapeno cornbread, white pizza with peach, pancetta and chile, or peach lavender lemonade — or have always wanted to try your hand at making a classic peach pie— Stephen and Jessica have you covered. Many of Nashville’s most celebrated hotspots and chefs, including Sean Brock, Lisa Donovan, and Tandy Wilson, have contributed recipes, so you’ll also get a how-to on cult menu items such as Burger Up’s Peach Truck Margarita. OH Brian Lampkin is one of the proprietors of Scuppernong Books. June 2019
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Why We Teach Because love trumps money
By Clyde Edgerton
After a recent day of teacher protest
ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR
in Raleigh, a Buzz from the StarNews went something like this: “If they want more money, why do they teach?”
One answer: “To educate young people in such a way that America doesn’t end up with about 40 percent of its adults who think like you do.” For some reason, I’m guessing the question-asker is an adult male — kind of irreverent in an annoying way, annoyingly pushy, laughing in an annoying way about being pushy. This guy, let’s call him Norman, probably has a boring, well-paying job, and loves to watch TV and collect, say, bicycle spokes. He made Cs in high school, finished two months of college, then dropped out because it was boring. Today, his boring job pays a pretty good salary — for a person with the creativity of mud. He has health insurance and is going to retire as soon as possible so he can spend the rest of his life watching TV and collecting bicycle spokes. He likes quiz shows and action films — the ones that aren’t too complicated. He likes to bet on sports. He dreams of being a millionaire. He knows that greed makes the world go around. Greed makes people work hard. Teachers aren’t greedy, so they don’t work hard. I had Norman pictured as about 40 years old, making maybe 48 to 54 grand a year, but I just now had a switch-glitch. I had him wrong. Norman is actually a multimillionaire who lives carefully, counting his money. He got some lucky breaks. He thinks of himself as cool — though he doesn’t collect bicycle spokes — he has no hobbies; he’s a little less creative than the first Norman. He does have two Thomas Kinkade paintings except one of them doesn’t have the little original spot of real paint. He has a cool Mercedes. He’s 62, and has had some face-work. Maybe a little too much — since he looks kind of like a 38-year-old who’s constipated. He’d volunteer in a public school if he could find one that paid $1,200 The Art & Soul of Greensboro
per hour. But why should he spend even a second thinking about public schools? He has a portfolio. And a nice $920,000 yacht. He has a membership in a high-end country club. (Don’t get me wrong — there are people in country clubs without face-lifts.) His thought is: What is public education anyway but a place for poor kids? Like the children of teachers. He, like the first Norman, asks, “If they want more money, why do they teach?” They teach because most of them love teaching. Love it in spite of a collapse of respect for what they do — in spite of a surprisingly large percentage of their country’s budget going for “leadership.” Whoa. In spite of bosses with a Bluetoothed ear who sometimes visit in schools that might well expel a student who refused to un-Bluetooth her ear. In spite of insane testing mandates from the government. In spite of people working around them for $11 an hour — with their state government and local school board rubberstamping those poverty-making wages. They love teaching. They are rewarded by the look in the eyes of a child who is excited about learning something — like, say, a new language, how to play clarinet, or how to solve a calculus problem. They believe that look in the eyes of a curious child might, with some luck, be morphed into a dream that does not depend on money for happiness, a dream that finds purpose in serving others, that creates a permanent curiosity about the world, a permanent respect, even love, for their neighbors — even neighbors who have far less than they do. The deep excitement in teaching and learning is water for a thirsty nation. While it’s appropriate to say, “Thank you for your service” to a vet, it’s just as appropriate to say, “Thank you for your service” to a teacher. Both make our nation safe. Both have tremendous power — one to destroy, one to build. If they want more money, why do they teach? To build student insight and character through knowledge, and thus make our nation better able to handle something as risky as democracy. OH Clyde Edgerton is the author of 10 novels, a memoir and most recently, Papadaddy’s Book for New Fathers. He is the Thomas S. Keenan III Distinguished Professor of Creative Writing at UNCW. June 2019
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Drinking with Writers
One Man’s Good Advice Clyde Edgerton and the art of negotiation
By Wiley Cash • Photographs by Mallory Cash
In 2011, my wife and I were living in West Vir-
ginia when I learned that my first novel was going to be published. My editor asked me to reach out to any wellknown authors I knew to see if they would offer a blurb for the book jacket. The problem? I didn’t know many wellknown authors, so I began sleuthing for email addresses. Clyde Edgerton’s was one of the first I found. I wrote to him and told him that I, like him, was a North Carolina native who had written a North Carolina novel, and I wondered if he would be willing to give it a read and consider offering some kind words. He not only read my novel and offered some kind words that ended up on the front of the hardcover, he offered some criticism as well. There was one particular scene in the novel that he felt went on a little too long, and he suggested some edits. I made the edits;
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
they were the last I made before the novel went to print, and they improved the novel in ways I never could have imagined. I had never met Clyde Edgerton. I had never been one of his students. He was just being kind, giving more of his time and talent than I ever expected.
Clyde’s kindness and giving of time continued in the spring of 2012 when he appeared at Pomegranate Books in Wilmington, North Carolina, to attend one of the first events of my book tour. I had not expected him to be there, and it was a little like shooting free throws while Michael Jordan watched from the stands, but I will never forget how deeply honored I felt. At the conclusion of that event, I spoke a little about a new novel that I was working on, and I expressed the difficulty I was having with the ending. A few days later, I received an email from Clyde, sharing his ideas about how to end novels in ways that satisfied both writers and readers. Clyde and I struck up a friendship after my wife and I moved back to North Carolina and settled in Wilmington in 2013. He christened our second child. Our kids go to the same school. We have shared the stage with other authors at literary events and fundraisers around the South, and over the past few months we have fallen into a routine of eating omelets and biscuits and gravy and sharing sliced tomatoes in a booth at White Front Breakfast House at the corner of Market and 16th Street. June 2019
Drinking with Writers That was where we were sitting recently when I sought Clyde’s advice about a particularly difficult ethical situation I was facing in my professional life. Aside from the respect I have for Clyde as a writer, it is exceeded only by my respect for him as a citizen and altruist. After asking for his advice, Clyde shared some wisdom he had gleaned from a local reverend, friend and ally named Dante Murphy. “Don’t get angry at people in these situations,” he said. “When it becomes personal that anger can poison you. Get angry at institutions. You can change an institution. It’s harder to change a person.” Clyde knows what he is talking about. For the past few years he has been one of a handful of citizens leading the charge to uncover racial inequities in the New Hanover County School System, something he first encountered while tutoring students at Forest Hills Elementary. The school had a Spanish language immersion program, and while the student body was 46 percent African-American, every single one of the 40 slots in the language program had been taken by white students before open enrollment even began. Since then, the former principal and school system have given a number of excuses — some laughable, some offensive — about the racial disparity in the program. None of it has deterred Clyde and a group
of citizens from following leads, learning of other instances of discrimination or wrongdoing, and meeting with parents, school board members and city and county employees. None of the students on whose behalf Clyde is working have ever met him. They are not his children, but he is working for them regardless. It is similar to the compassion and care he showed me all those years ago, but the kindness he showed me never got him banned from county school property. How does Clyde address these issues with school leaders? The same way he approaches finding a satisfying conclusion to a piece of fiction he is writing. “Some writers think that story comes from conflict,” he says. “I don’t think that’s always true. Conflict can be impassable, and there’s no story with an impasse. I think good stories come from negotiation. Good stories happen when everyone can see they have a stake in a good outcome.” For a good outcome, whether in a community or a novel or a literary friendship, negotiation is key. Clyde, please pass the sliced tomatoes. OH Wiley Cash lives in Wilmington with his wife and their two daughters. His latest novel, The Last Ballad, is available wherever books are sold.
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Just Fine Dining
Life of Jane
By Jane Borden
The origin stories of
celebrated chefs are often anecdotes about techniques passed through generations or revelatory meals experienced while traversing France. My culinary genesis tale: Nathan and I looked at our weekly schedules and realized that if we wanted family dinners with our daughter, who was now old enough to eat actual food, then the task of preparing said food would fall to me. I became a cook by default. Très inspirante.
We had a secondary goal to improve the caliber of dinner. Up to that point, our child ate purées from pouches, and Nathan and I grazed on hummus and carrots. No one ever ate well. Now we do eat together. But I still wouldn’t say we eat well. I always assumed I‘d be a great cook. My mother is. She made delicious family dinners every night of my childhood in Greensboro. I’m making bland fuel that my husband chews and swallows anyway, because he is a good Midwesterner. Consistently, in response to my apologies or doubts, he says, “I think it’s just fine.“Just Fine: Wasn’t that the title of Bobby Flay’s biography? Further, my mother made it appear effortless. Delicious meals simply appeared every night. Actually, I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen while she cooked, so I can’t say for sure, but she didn’t require three martinis to get through it, which is kind of where I am and, come to think of it, is maybe the problem. All of my life, I figured I was a natural chef waiting in the wings and whenever I actually put spatula to pan, my innate talent would float to the top like a perfectly cooked shrimp. This is why people are reluctant to learn new skills. Inaction enables the harboring of delusion. Also, I cooked shrimp last week and
overdid them. But Nathan said they were just fine. If I actually were a “natural,” would I have waited until the age of 40 to pick up a pot? Then again, I had an excuse for that too. It had more or less been my sister Tucker’s path. No one expected Tucker to inherit Mom’s prowess because Tucker lived in New York and either ate out or ordered in every meal. But as soon as she moved to Raleigh, she turned into Ina Garten. In addition to parenting two children and working full time as an executive at a bank, she makes homemade stromboli. I can’t even pronounce stromboli and she can talk on the phone while she makes it. She’s in some kind of domestic honor guard. Meanwhile, when I heard feminists talk about having it all, I thought “it” meant a personal chef. Maybe there is voodoo at play, and in order to become a cook like my mom, I too must move back to North Carolina. Except, if I’m being honest, my style of cooking was indeed inherited genetically — from my dad. His kitchen claims to fame include microwaved scrambled eggs and tapioca pudding from a box. In retrospect, I should’ve seen this coming, considering how many times I have defended him . . . or was it Julia Child who once said, “Of course microwaved eggs aren’t as delicious, but you only dirty one dish!” To be fair, inheriting my dad’s sensibilities hasn’t left me bereft of culinary skills altogether. First, I have expert leftovers strategy. No food item goes to waste in my home, based on systematic rankings determined by frequent inventories of pantry and fridge, to assess what will rot first. This will serve me well in an apocalyptic future, or in the present whenever I want to feel environmentally smug. Second, I know how to handle (attack) a buffet. And third, I can locate and politely capitalize on every sample station in any fancy grocery store. Come to think of it, these are all strategies for eating. Basically, I’m saying that I’m really good at eating. Feeding is harder. And yet I persist. Because dinner demands to be made and, according to our schedules, I’m the one to do it. So far I have three dishes in my arsenal: The Art & Soul of Greensboro
ILLUSTRATION BY MERIDITH MARTENS
Does shopping at the grocery store count as a cooking skill?
Life of Jane • Instant Pot salsa chicken. Dump a jar of salsa on two chicken breasts in the instant pot and cook for 18 minutes. On the gas range, cook quinoa and chopped cauliflower in chicken broth. Shred chicken with a fork. Amazingly, it only took me a dozen times to perfect this. • Turkey spaghetti. Sauté onion, add ground turkey until browned, dump in a jar of spaghetti sauce, add chopped mushrooms on top, and simmer for 12 minutes. On the range, cook whole wheat pasta. This one I should have mastered earlier, but I kept insisting on buying the cheapest tomato sauce. • Stir fry. Sauté chopped tofu until brown, add vegetables, dump in a jar of teriyaki sauce, simmer. Usually, my daughter says, “This is not my taste.” It is adorably polite and infuriatingly accurate. That’s when Nathan will say, “Honey, I think it’s just fine,” and his voice sounds like winds rushing over the Indiana plains. But hey, imagine how much my husband must love me when I’m definitely not reaching his heart through his stomach. Although each rendition is not guaranteed to be better than the one before, like the arc of human history, things are bending in a positive direction. Sometimes, my daughter will say, “Mama, you made the best dinner ever,” and my heart swells. Then I remember that the key ingredients in each dish came in a premade sauce. Ah, the classic French technique of le dumpée du jar! C’est magnifique (ou du moins, facile). That’s right, I speak a little French. Maybe I should develop a recipe involving a bottle of French dressing. Even if my daughter will never say, as I can, that her mother is a great cook, I am still able to create joy around food — not the preparing of it, which is a nightmare from which I won’t wake until she leaves for college —but rather when we shop for it. This I also inherited from my parents. I remember making fun of how excited they were for grocery runs on the weekend. It was like a date for them. I get it now. But for me, it’s a date with my daughter. We talk about it all weekend long until it happens. While we shop, she sits happily in the cart, munching on free samples — atta girl, way to be a Borden — and we take hug breaks on the freezer aisle when she gets a little cold. Sometimes, like a bad boyfriend suggesting scary movies, I make a second loop down the freezer aisle just to get another hug. I am really good at grocery shopping. Why shouldn’t that be an innate cooking talent? It takes experience and insight to know which premade sauces complement which food items. My daughter sees a woman who is skilled at choosing and using jars. And if she inherits anything from her dad, she’ll think that’s just fine. OH Jane Borden makes the best Instant tapioca pudding in all of Los Angeles. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Food for Thought
(Chicken) Salad Days By Jane Lear
Aside from the “fiesta” or
“Oriental” versions found at some chain restaurants, chicken salad has pretty much been relegated to the Nostalgia Department: suitable fare for tearooms, drugstore lunch counters and Southern porch suppers, circa 1955.
I don’t know why. I suppose people are afraid of the fat in mayonnaise — common to most recipes — or perhaps the technique of poaching chicken — ditto — sounds difficult. This should change. Chicken salad should become a trend. I mean, if I had a restaurant — a little roadside café, say — I’d feature a chicken salad sandwich of the week. Or perhaps I’d serve nothing but chicken salad; if one of the whiz kids behind the grilled-cheese-shop fad wants to diversify, we should talk. No matter what, though, I always keep chicken salad in my regular rotation at home, because it’s a great make-ahead family supper or, fancied up with tarragon and toasted walnuts, for instance, or with a curry dressing, a fabulous company meal. In a perfect world, obviously, I’d always take the time to gently poach chicken breast halves, complete with bones and skin: Not only is that one key to flavorful yet clean-tasting meat (along with using a wholesome pastured bird), but the light broth is handy for moistening the salad
(instead of more mayo) if it starts to dry out — a trick I learned back in my years at Gourmet. Life has a tendency to get in the way, however, and I’m here to remind you that you can make delicious chicken salad from leftover sautéed or roasted chicken, or even a store-bought rotisserie bird. For sheer speed and efficiency, it’s hard to beat that last option, so I’m always a little shocked when I meet people who are snooty about rotisserie, or spit-roasted, chickens, one of the greatest convenience foods on the planet. Have they ever been to an outdoor market in France? I wonder. The queue for poulet rôti should be a tip-off that it’s an honest, worthy substitute for a home-roasted chicken in many a French kitchen. And in mine, too. I’ll often buy two on the way home in the evening — one for eating that night, with some harissa-slicked couscous and quickcooked greens, for example — and the other for salad, later in the week. While it’s still warm, I’ll strip it of bones and skin, shred both white and dark meat, and combine it with the dressing. Honestly, anyone can do this. As far as chicken salad recipes go, I like having a repertoire. Several old-school renditions are embellished with toasted slivered almonds and grapes, cut in half lengthwise. A famous one, which is rich and light all at the same time (aside from red grapes, almonds, celery and parsley, the recipe includes unsweetened whipped cream), was created by renowned Texas cook Helen Corbitt for the café menu at the Neiman Marcus department store in the ’50s. We also have Corbitt to thank for Texas caviar (i.e., pickled black-eyed peas) and poppy-seed dressing. Other chicken salads in this genre rely on a one-to-one ratio of mayonnaise and sour cream, and green grapes instead of red. In general, this sort of chicken salad is utterly predictable and absolutely delicious. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
PHOTOGRAPH BY JAMES STEFIUK
There is nothing like chicken salad. Whether homey or haute, it can be the centerpiece of any summer meal
Food for Thought You’ll want to serve it on a bed of soft-leaf lettuces, and on your mother’s china. A side of steamed asparagus and maybe some Parker House rolls and good butter would make everyone very happy. Lately, though, I’ve been relying on supermarket staples — in particular, Major Grey’s mango chutney and dry-roasted nuts — as well as a picked-up-on-the-run rotisserie bird to put a chicken salad supper on the table fast. What takes this combination out of the Coronation Chicken Salad realm (first made for Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation lunch in 1953, it’s been popular in Britain ever since) are the additions of cilantro, basil, mint, and lime juice for freshness and verve, as well as large, voluptuous leaves of butterhead lettuce, for making Southeast Asian-style roll-ups.
Fast-Track Chicken Salad with Mango Chutney and Cashews 1 medium red onion, chopped 1 jar Major Grey’s-style mango chutney (8 to 9 ounces), mango cut into smaller, bite-size pieces if too chunky ½1/2 cup mayonnaise (I’m a lifelong fan of Duke’s) Fresh lime juice, to taste Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper 1 rotisserie chicken (about 3 pounds), skin and bones discarded and meat shredded 2 to 3 celery stalks, chopped Dry-roasted whole cashews or peanuts, coarsely chopped, to taste For the roll-ups 1 or 2 butterhead lettuces such as Bibb, leaves separated, left whole, washed, and spun dry Handfuls of fresh cilantro, basil and mint sprigs, rinsed and dried Sliced radishes and/or seedless cucumber, optional 1. Stir together the onion, chutney, mayo and lime juice in a large bowl and season with salt and pepper. (Go easy on the salt if you’re going to be adding salted nuts.) Gently stir in the chicken until thoroughly combined. Give the flavors a chance to mingle for 20 or 30 minutes. 2. Just before serving, gently stir in the celery and nuts. Spoon the chicken salad onto a platter and arrange the roll-up fixings (lettuce leaves, herbs, and vegetables) around it so everyone can serve themselves. Your mother’s china, optional. OH Jane Lear, formerly of Gourmet magazine and Martha Stewart Living, is the editor of Feed Me, a quarterly magazine for Long Island food lovers. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Making the Cut
Not everyone qualifies for shelf space By Susan S. Kelly
Not long ago someone said to me, “I’m
cutting down on friends because I find it cuts down on expectations.” In the same week, my sister informed me that coffee table books are o-u-t. She knows this kind of thing because she lives in Charlotte. Both pronouncements indicated that, after hurriedly sweeping tables free of Irish Country Houses and Flowers for Entertaining and the like, I needed to take a good long look at my bookshelves.
Despite the fact that I’m an inveterate deleter — of photographs, recipes, clothes, emails (especially emails, and you would be too if your daughter had found the one in which you’d commented to your sister that, during your daughter’s semester in France, it was obvious that she’d eaten more éclairs than haricots verts) — I have bookshelves upstairs and down, in bedrooms, in halls, in the kitchen, in an armoire, in corner cupboards, even behind a desk against the wall where I can’t see the books themselves. Time to apply that neat-freak guru’s Does It Bring You Pleasure? dictate to my bookshelf contents. First to go: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I don’t care if it was my mother’s. I don’t care if it has Mark Twain’s personal signature on the flyleaf. Nobody likes that book. Nobody. The very title makes me think of my son’s comment that melancholy instrumental music always makes him think of summer reading requirements, i.e., depressing. I so get that, and so farewell to Cry, the Beloved Country, too. Here go the various books penned by my Master of Fine Arts teachers, because I thought that they’d notice I’d bought them and mention to their editors that I was worthy of publication myself. Brown-nosing does not get you published. Maybe, in a pinch, you’ll get a cover blurb, but of course you have to get published first. Out. Here’s the shelf that makes me think: What was that about? Meaning not the book’s plot, but why I ever bought it. Take Ellen Gilchrist’s books. I thought she was a tough Southern broad and that if I read her stuff, I’d grow up just like her. OK, so that happened; no need to keep. This row of Leon Uris books, when I was on a Jewish jag. Poof. Begone, Barbara Kingsolver. So long Stephen King’s The Stand, the only book I’ve ever read that caused me to shake my husband awake at 2 a.m. because I was so terrified. Wait, what is Jonathan Livingston Seagull doing here? And Rod McKuen’s Listen to the Quiet? Remnants of the soulful ’70s get no shelf space. Yet what does it say, pray, that I can’t part with The Preppy Handbook? It says that I Instagrammed a photo of it and the number of people who responded that they still had a copy was astounding. What this says about me, or them, is something I’d rather not delve into too deeply. But The Preppy Handbook stays. Never mind the defunct coffee table books; what to do with all these “little”
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
books? You know, the kind that were gifts or you bought in a museum store. First lines of famous books. Last lines of famous books. The kings and queens of England. Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water. Joan Walsh Anglund. To keep: Eleanor and Franklin, because it was a U. S. History Prize, in high school, and I was so stunned that I won. I’m no history buff, but I’m very good at memorizing. Here goes Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Don’t care that it was a college graduation gift. Don’t care that it’s a Pulitzer. It’s boring, and unlike Annie Dillard, I never was much given to introspection, much to my husband’s dismay. Because here is row upon row of his Jesus books, with sleeping pill titles like Christianity and Culture, The Beginning of Wisdom, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God. Lord, I rest my case. Guess I’ll have to keep the two-tome volume of Governor Reagan and President Reagan, since my spouse has never seen fit to even remove the shrink wrap cover. During a stint as a librarian, I myself shrink wrapped my childhood hardback of Stuart Little because my daughter (see above) read the same copy aloud to me every night before bedtime while I played Tetris on Game Boy — and you’ve never read E. B. White if you haven’t heard it in an 8-year-old’s voice. Nor will I ever part with anything Tasha Tudor illustrated: The Secret Garden and A Little Princess. The four-volume edition of The Raj Quartet and Brideshead Revisited are keepers because I was so addicted to their versions on Masterpiece Theatre. All Alice McDermott books stay. All Julia Glass books stay. All Jane Smiley books stay. All John Updike novels and short stories stay, if only for the heartbreaking, last-line comeuppance in “A&P” and the marital depiction of “Wife-Wooing.” My copy of William Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! stays because it falls open naturally to the lines I’ve read so often: “Tell me about the South. What’s it like there. What do they do there. Why do they live there. Why do they live at all.” Here’s to the hard-drinking writers still trying to figure out their love/hate relationship to the South. I think I know one. Besides, don’t you love a great “hate” line? “Love Rebecca? I hate her!” Oh, Maxim de Winter . . . Rebecca, and all Daphne du Mauriers stay. The $3,000 worth of bridge books stay. They’re an investment . . . that hasn’t matured. I’m exhausted. Meaning I’m just going to pretend like Dr. Zhivago isn’t staring me in the face right beside Gone with the Wind. After all, tomorrow is another day. OH Susan S. Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and a proud grandmother. June 2019
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Gate City Journal
The Little Restaurant that Could In spite of its surroundings in a construction zone, Cincy’s Café carries on and soothes the soul with great cooking
By Cynthia Adams
It’s 10 a.m. at Cincy’s Café — at the best of
PHOTOGRAPH BY SAM FROELICH
times a place that is tucked out of sight on the street level of the historic Dixie building facing February One Place. The building itself once housed the Dixie Fire Insurance Company. Now, the only fire here comes from the Cincinnatistyle chili, the café’s namesake dish. If you haven’t tried it, this toothsome, complex and oh-so-satisfying delight is not really all that spicy. But it’s definitely addictive, more closely resembling Greek spaghetti sauce than Southwestern chili, with bursts of allspice, a hint clove and subtle notes of chocolate. And, surprisingly, it’s served on a bed of spaghetti. Only a couple of years ago, a hair salon was next door and the street was busy with foot and car traffic. But for over a year now, Cincy’s has been largely concealed by a forbidding construction zone. Outside, two orange scissor lifts are hoisting workers who are repointing brick on the side of the six-story building that has been Cincy’s home for decades. Two parking decks underway and a future hotel encircle the area. For the faithful, and there are quite a few, there is only a narrow pathway open from Elm Street to the restaurant, flanked with orange construction tape. February One Place remains closed except to foot traffic into Cincy’s — now looking more like a-behind-the-ropes setting for a Prohibition-era Speakeasy than a café. Despite the commotion outside, the eatery continues to be a popular and much-loved restaurant, where lawyers and business types in tailored suits quite literally rub shoulders in close confines with construction and office workers.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Inside, Cincy’s owner Bonnie Kays is all business, clad in her no-nonsense black work uniform as she prepares for the lunch crowd, which can, despite all the obstacles, still be quite a crowd of regulars. A real dynamo with graying hair tucked beneath a black fedora, Kays greets me, as she does her customers, with blue eyes and dimples that crinkle into a smile. She is cracking open her first energy drink of the day. (“It’s by V-8,” she says with a grin. “Very low sugar. Healthy, I hope.”) With only four or five hours’ nightly sleep, Kays is in a serious sleep deficit. She chugs the energy drink down and smiles. Go juice. “It’s funny,” she says. “Being in the business you can find yourself going all day without eating.” The eatery she and Cindi Long purchased in 1996 from the original owner, Linda Schwoeppe, first opened in 1986. Cincy’s is entering 33 years of operation, making it one of two of the oldest surviving downtown lunch spots (the other one I’ll get to below). Lunch crowd mainstays like the Southeastern Soda Shop and The Mantelworks, along with Woolworths, are long closed. Only the Acropolis on Eugene Street is older and still operational, having opened in 1967. Like Cincy’s, it has battled with construction and parking losses as development has encroached. Despite all odds, the low-profile Cincy’s (its name a riff on the aforementioned Cincinnati-style chili, layered with Greek-style seasonings) endures. The distinctive chili with its aromatic come-hither aroma accounts for at least half of daily sales. Half turkey, half ground beef, is offered, like traditional Cincinnati chili in five variations. Two-way is just chili and spaghetti noodles. Three-way involves an additional topping of cheeses. The “five-way” chili translates into spaghetti, chili, chopped onion, and kidney beans. And don’t write off the vegetarian offerings without trying them. One nonvegetarian foodie friend insists that the veggie version of Cincy’s chili is superior to the meated variety and it’s definitely spicier. The chili recipe is a tribute dish, one Schwoeppe remembered from her native Ohio. The former jeans and sportswear designer came from the Buckeye State to Greensboro to work at VF Corporation, while privately nursing a dream of starting a restaurant that served her very own chili recipe. Over two years Schwoeppe perfected her culinary specialty. When she felt it was ready to debut, she opened June 2019
Gate City Journal a restaurant in the Quaker Village Shopping Center, serving lunch and dinner, and eventually hired Kays to manage it. Meanwhile, Schwoeppe expanded, opening a lunch-only restaurant at the current location downtown. After 10 years, Schwoeppe sold the Guilford College location, and offered to sell the downtown Cincy’s to Kays and another employee, Cindi Long. They promised not to screw it up, Kays laughs. Kays eventually bought out Long, who remains a colleague and close friend. Employee Minnie Crowder, now in her 80s, came to work at Cincy’s in 1992 — after 26 years working at the McCrory Drugstore counter located at Four Seasons Mall. “I bet she served many a grilled cheese to me there,” muses Kays. Kays admits that Crowder is her rock. A woman who has worked since she can recall, she adds. Both Crowder and Long offer a ready smile and kind word to customers, and know many regulars by name. “Cindi and Minnie are due much credit for Cincy’s success,” says Kays. But it’s Kays’ creativity in the kitchen that really distinguishes this hidden gem. Nothing on the menu is same-old, same-old. Everything is served with care and flair. For instance, Kays offers five varieties of veggie burgers, one with grilled onions topped with a sauce savory with horseradish and rich with cream. Her 100-percent Angus burgers come six different ways, with a spicy, raging Cajun cooled down with ranch dressing and cheese. Add seven types of salads, an eclectic roster of tantalizing sandwiches plus chocolate-brownie pie or cobbler for dessert and it’s no surprise that Kays’ “long-term, true-blue customers” are willing to navigate past the cranes, sawhorses and a street closure to come eat in this woman-powered cafe. At least half of the true-blue have continued, even now that dedicated parking has been apportioned for a future city parking deck. Kays doesn’t object to more parking. “We need it,” she affirms. But it is part of a one-two punch, as construction continues making customer access difficult. Like the regulars who fill those seats, Kays commitment to the job is also true-blue. She has been in the business since she got her first work permit. “My first job was waitressing at Heckle’s Big Steer out on Mt. Hope Church Road, a little restaurant that is now a truck stop, when I was 15. Once I started making money, I paid for my first car, a blue Pinto.” She was still a junior at Southeastern High School, and buying preppy chinos and jackets from the Limited with her own hard-earned waitressing money. If there was anything she liked better than being in the bustle of a kitchen, it was self-sufficiency. Kays soon bought a silver Mercury Capri . . . again with her earnings. “I moved out into an apartment at Sans Souci as soon as I graduated.”
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Gate City Journal Her first true management job was at age 20 working in the cafeteria at Sears, where “I learned everything from accounting up.” She took it upon herself to go in at 5 a.m. (“I learned my work ethic from my Daddy”) and work with the chef. “The first time I made a biscuit, I had to make 1,000. It was a huge kitchen, and I learned how to feed the masses.” Feeding the masses is something Kays does, even when it doesn’t net her a dime. One of her friends, Sally Randall, began a nonprofit charity Re4Him, to help those in need. “Sally helps people get off the street. I started helping her and feeding the homeless, so now, I do it every week except the third week of the month when Domino’s does it.” The group, whose name is a compression of “Him” and a short reference to four words (to the fourth power), each starting with “re” — renew, restore, refocus, repurpose — sets up tables in front of the Greene Street parking deck and feeds anywhere from 175–200 people after hours. One day a week, Randall also works at Cincy’s. Kays donates some of the food distributed. “The hunger problem is bad,” she says. So, she counts herself lucky, and has a determination to survive a worrying transitional period. These days, Cincy’s proprietor is counting on Kays’ catering business (“The spring furniture market saved us,” she says quietly) to stay afloat through a turbulent year of downtown construction, which eliminated a parking lot and on-street parking, and has put a serious dent into her usual traffic. Before construction took the parking behind them and eventually closed off February One off completely, the restaurant was having a boom period — feeding 120 during lunch in 2017. Now, they are doing well to serve half that many. “For the period before construction, things were going pretty smoothly. We were kicking it with record-breaking sales . . . making double chili batches. The best it had ever done. Even after Christmas, we didn’t see a lull . . . then they started construction.” Adding to the headaches, the restaurant flooded last July due to a construction snafu — and for a heartbeat the entire Dixie building was condemned and evacuated. The next day, Cincy’s was back in business. As their 33rd year of operation begins, the menu is being updated and tweaked. Kays says their burgers, veggie burgers, hot dogs and sandwiches are well-followed, and not that much has changed in its history since she became the owner. Cincy’s homemade soups are widely reviewed online by several hundred fans. The chili must remain as is. “Our staff and customers are the reason for not forgetting our chili by any means,” Kays allows. Comfort food for the true-blue. OH Cynthia Adams is a true-blue regular at Cincy’s and a contributing editor to O.Henry. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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Shy and Dry This time of year, the fields are teeming with Killdeer that call their own name day or night
By Susan Campbell
The killdeer is a small,
brown-and-white shorebird that breeds in the Sandhills and Piedmont of North Carolina but is widespread throughout North America. It can be found here year round in the right habitat, but that doesn’t mean you should go looking for it in wetlands. Despite its classification as a shorebird, most of the population lives away from the water’s edge. In fact, for egg-laying, the drier the spot, the better! And in truth, sandy soil like that in the Sandhills, is not that much different from the beaches, where one would expect a shorebird to nest.
This robin-sized bird, not surprisingly, gets its name from its call: a loud “kill-deer, kill-deer” which can be heard day or night. During migration, individuals frequently vocalize on the wing, high in the air. Adults will also circle above their territory calling incessantly in early spring. On the ground, killdeer are a challenge to spot. They blend in well with the dark ground and practically disappear against the mottled background of a tilled field or a gravel surface. Killdeer employ a “run-and-stop” foraging strategy as they search for insect prey on the ground. As they run, they may sir up insects, which will be easily gobbled up as the birds come to a quick halt. Although they live in close proximity to humans, they are quite shy. Killdeer are more likely to run than fly if approached. When alarmed, they frequently use a quick head bob or two. This may be a strategy to make the birds seem larger than they appear.
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During the winter months, flocks of killdeer concentrate in open, insectrich habitat such as ball fields, golf courses, or harvested croplands. Come spring, pairs will search out drier substrates, preferring sandy or rocky areas for nesting. They may even use flat, gravel rooftops. The female merely scrapes a slight depression where she lays four to six speckled eggs that blend in with the surroundings. She will sit perfectly still on her nest and incubate the eggs for three to four weeks. If disturbed by a potential predator, the female killdeer will employ distractive displays to draw the intruder away from the eggs. This may go so far as to involve feigning a broken wing. Calling loudly and spreading out her tail, the mother bird makes herself as noticeable as possible, limping along and dragging a wing on the ground. This “broken wing act” can be very convincing, giving the predator the idea that following the female will result in an easy meal. Once far enough from the nest, the killdeer will fly off, not returning to the eggs until she is convinced the coast is clear. Should distractions by the adults not be effective, the pair will find a new nesting location and begin again. The species is a very determined nester. Killdeer are capable of producing up to three broods in a summer. Normally, the eggs hatch almost all at the same time. As soon as they have dried off, the downy, long-legged young will immediately follow their mother away from the nest to a safer, more protected area nearby. They will follow her around for several weeks, being fed and brooded along the way. Once they are fully feathered, the young will have learned not only how to escape danger but how and where to find food for themselves. So, if you hear a “kill-deer” over the next couple months, stop and look closely: you may be rewarded with a peek into the summer life of this fascinating little bird. OH Susan would love to receive your wildlife sightings and photos. She can be contacted by email at firstname.lastname@example.org. June 2019
Ballinger Academy, downtown Eye candy and an ode to Dear Old Dad
By Billy Eye
“True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.” — Kurt Vonnegut
Just weeks ago, I lost a very dear
friend of mine. After a long and protracted battle, he finally succumbed to his wife’s demand that he not hang out with that bum Billy Eye anymore.
Perhaps as conciliation, my pal Caleb Gross, knowing how much I love a mystery, pulled up a Google satellite image of a large, manufacturing plant– sized building at the end of a winding, unpaved trail off Friendway Road near West Market Street. Caleb’s dad had lived in the Westwind Area neighborhood years ago, and that elephantine structure sequestered behind a row of mid-century homes had always fascinated him, being so completely out of place and long ago abandoned. It has no discernible address, doesn’t seem to appear on any map, nor is the property listed on Zillow. Eye became intrigued as well, so we went urban excavating, motoring past the “No Trespassing: Violators Will Be Prosecuted” signs to steal a closer look. Caleb, by the way, is the drummer for our region’s banging-est punk band, Basement Life, whose latest album Devour is one of my all-time favorites. In addition to being a ferocious skin beater, Caleb’s a devoted father and hard-working professional. What we discovered at the end of that dirt trail was a low-slung, one-story building fronting a Georgian Colonial–inspired, four-story structure, a bit disheveled but totally intact, with unusually high ceilings. The windows weren’t broken — imagine that — but all entrances and lower floor windows have been boarded up to prevent egress. My first thought was, what a great event space this would make. Surrounded by five acres of slightly overgrown lawn, there is no signage or
anything identifying the property, but an adjacent athletic field suggested that this may have been a school of some sort. Sure enough, after asking around, it was Lady Katei Cranford who informed me that this was once Ballinger Preparatory Academy, also known as The Little Red Schoolhouse. Attorney Max Ballinger and his wife Patsy bought this former preschool not far from their 100-acre Guilford College farmstead. After 12 years teaching at Sternberger Elementary, this was a dream come true for Patsy Ballinger, to be headmistress of her own academic enterprise. Beginning in 1971, students attended kindergarten through 8th grade at Ballinger Prep, with class sizes ranging from 10–12 students. Under Patsy’s tutelage, pupils were immersed in a curriculum emphasizing geography, science, social studies, government, history, mathematics, as well as gaining fluency in French. Each day, students attended classes in the arts — music, drama, painting and creative writing. It wasn’t unusual for Ballinger attendees to win the national Geography Bee. Students were encouraged to write books, many of which were published and achieved acclaim. Ballinger’s motto: “You don’t have to do it, You get to do it!” First to arrive each morning and last to leave, Patsy directed and often times composed two dramatic or musical productions each term, insuring every child had a chance to participate in some way. Field trips afforded older students an opportunity to experience a variety of distant locales such as the Outer Banks, Williamsburg, Cape Canaveral, our nation’s capital, even white water-rafting down the New River. When Ballinger Prep closed after the 2002 term, enrollment had dropped to just a few dozen, that year’s seventh grade class was just four students. Caleb and I didn’t go as far as pulling particle board off the windows of the now vacant academy, not my style, but a visitor to this property in 2011 got a good look at the inside and discovered classrooms with desks and chairs in place, graded papers and a pair of glasses resting on a teacher’s desk. On a related note . . . Downtown the other day, on the corner of Elm and Washington, waiting for a light to change, I overheard a young man say to his wife, who was strolling their baby, “Look, there’s a candy factory. You want to go check it out?” They The Art & Soul of Greensboro
were referring to a building across the street from the Depot. “Don’t bother,” I told them. “There’s no candy factory there nor has there ever been.” They were puzzled, “Then why did they paint ‘Gate City Candy Factory’ in large letters on top of that building?” Beats me. That brick, multilevel structure at 301 South Church Street, is currently home to The Experiential School of Greensboro, where, coincidentally, Caleb is hoping to enroll his 6-year old son this fall. This tuition-free collaborative for K-7 students opened its doors only last year, yet there’s already a waiting list. The charter’s mission statement declares, “The Experiential School of Greensboro educates creative critically engaged citizens using an experiential curriculum that extends the classroom into the downtown Greensboro community.” That’s why you’ll occasionally witness a gaggle of youngsters taking part in a field trip making their way in a neat little row across downtown sidewalks. A benefit concert for the school was held in May, “Songs of Peace and Community,” featuring many of the city’s finest singer-songwriters including Rhiannon Giddens, Laurelyn Dossett, Charlie Hunter and Molly McGinn, among others. Meanwhile, talk about taking it back to old school, Caleb Gross and Basement Life have a show on June 8th at The Blind Tiger on Spring Garden, Eye’ll see you there? *** I often wax nostalgic about members of the well-named Greatest Generation. Something about living through The Depression, World War II, the economic boom of the 1950s and ’60s, gave them an almost singular perspective, embodying the American Dream that subsequent generations squandered. I was unexpectedly reminded of two friends of my parents, Tom and Leenette Wimbish (Wimbish Insurance) both departed, she just last year. Pulling a book from my library, an 8 x 7 pamphlet I’d never seen before dropped into my hands, a collection of poetry self-published by Tom Wimbish. The final verse in his booklet, one entitled “My Dad,” is a clear-eyed portrait of the quintessential Depression-era Southern gentleman: Standing straight and tall in the worldly wind, Rigid in his beliefs, to the very end. Arbitrate, not he; and need we ask, An unwavering devotion to every task. Love, he showed in a particular fashion, Patience, he had as if on ration. But, good he was in every pore, His memory engraved forever more. And, thus these lines thought somewhat sad, Do honor and glory, my Dear Ole Dad. OH Billy Eye is O.G. — Original Greensboro. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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June 2019 Ode to My Backyard Garden O mighty, O valiant flowered phalanxes, patrolling the patio perimeter! Sharp-pointed hostas flank two imposing hydrangeas holding pride of place, one uniformed in periwinkle, the other, salmon pink, their blooms thrusting purposefully toward the sky. Snowy-petaled Shasta daisies with bright lemon centers — the next line of defense — gently wave in formation, gathering intelligence, heads pressing together in silent exchanges. Outermost are the sturdy sentinels, daylilies hued in saffron and amber, their ranks constantly replenished, ever watchful for marauders, especially Inscrutable Thomas, the neighbors’ orange tabby, a stealthy, persistent intruder. O carry on, carry on, my intrepid army of blossoms!
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— Martha Golensky
June June 2019 2019
O.Henry O.Henry 49
Root to Rise The worldly palate of Cameron Klass By Jim Dodson • Photographs by Amy Freeman
ameron Klass is a young woman forever on the move. Hers is the kind of millennial wanderlust that has kept this 26-year-old crossing the globe over the past five years, a personal quest to learn about other cultures and countries from the grassroots level, resulting in a passport that’s been stamped by at least two dozen different nations on four different continents. Her end game? Discovering food that not only sustains but also elevates the quality of human life. The latest move from this peripatetic Greensboro native’s determination to help others comes in the form of a lifestyle cookbook filled with favorite recipes gathered from Klass’ world travels, promoting a naturally-sourced, whole-Earth approach to eating that works wonders for both body and soul, not to mention the health of the planet. To hear her tell it, the 2011 Page High graduate had something of an awakening during her college junior year abroad in Reading, England, fueled by the month she spent at term’s end backpacking across Europe before her return to Ole Miss, where she was a marketing major and a member of the Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority. Traveling on the cheap, sleeping in train stations and youth hostels, soaking up culture and food styles as she went, Cameron roamed from Barcelona to Florence to Croatia (“with many stops in between”), undergoing an epiphany in the process. “That trip changed me,” she explains over an afternoon basil tea at Vida Pour Tea on State Street. “I’ve always been an independent person, someone who loved to camp with my family, enjoyed hiking and traveling on my own.” But after meeting so many different people and experiencing other cultures, something larger and more encompassing stirred awake in her. “I went home, resigned from the sorority and decided after graduation that I would travel as much as possible, learning from hands-on experiences.” It helped to have a roommate, she adds, who was a nutrition major. Her senior year at Ole Miss was spent deep-diving into food science and natural nutrition, learning the importance of cooking with fresh foods and reading ingredient labels. She also became a serious student of yoga — eventually earning certification as a teacher down the road. “I’d been a vegetarian since my freshman year. But learning more about the healing power of natural foods was eye-opening and exciting,” she reports. “Generally speaking, our convenient fast food culture promotes a very unhealthy and unstable lifestyle of eating. I wanted to be part of the solution to that.” Eager to keep moving, during the summer of 2014, she landed a gig as an au pair for a family in Istanbul, Turkey. “My favorite times were days off when I went
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
PHOTOGRAPHS FROM CAMERON KLASS
in search of local cuisine, inspired by the family cook, who made the most delicious vegetarian meals. On my own, I got to explore the city and its amazing markets and cultural sites, including mosques, meeting so many different types of people. It all opened my mind and broadened my outlook on life and left me hungry for more.” Before returning home to Greensboro that Christmas, Cameron extended her travels to Poland, where, among other things, she visited the Auschwitz concentration camp and underwent yet another awakening. “That was such an emotional experience for me,” Klass says. “The lesson I took from that is that life is fragile and everything can change in an instant. The moment is now to change, to make your life better. I knew I had to keep going in my travels — to learn more.” From there, she did a two-month stint working for a youth hostel in Valencia, Spain, followed by a month in Morocco, where she went on a camel trek across the desert, sleeping beneath the stars and sharing meals with nomadic families and picking up recipes as she went — including how to make Berber pizza by baking it in the sand. “I also discovered that the camel is my spirit animal. We’re both slow but steady and can cover a lot of ground with a smile on our faces. Also,” she adds with a laugh, “we’re both vegetarians.” Upon her return to Greensboro, she resumed her yoga classes at Radiance Yoga and began teaching a 10-day class in detoxing the body with natural foods, cooking healthy meals for private clients — which funded the next chapter of her educational travels. Five months in South America followed, beginning with the Galapagos Islands with her younger sister, Julia, before moving on to Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Colombia, exploring native cultures, eating in local markets, learning to cook the local dishes, visiting holy places, trekking in the Andes, camping on beaches. In Bolivia, she worked on a farm for two months, cooking, building plots, picking vegetables and harvesting coffee. She finished her time there by helping build a raft with Israeli backpackers and taking it down the Rio Verde River. “If you are open to people,” she reflects, “they will open up to you. Everywhere I went I found people who were warm and receptive — eager to share whatever they had, including food and wisdom. It was deeply enriching.” By the time she got home to Greensboro to do her 10-day detox programs and help out with her sister’s wedding, she knew it was only a matter of time until she returned to South America. On the road again with her backpack, she worked at a youth hostel in Chile and trekked in the Argentinian high country (“They eat so much meat. I lived on peaches and bread.”) From there it was on to Europe to work at an organic veggie farm in Germany. “I loved that work — every morning in the garden, weeding and watching plants grow and cooking meals from food you have taken straight from the garden. There’s nothing healthier or more delicious than that.” Her next step was Nepal for three months, where she trekked the Annapurna Circuit through the Himalayas and fell in love with the people and food of Nepal. She also did five days in a Buddhist monastery in
Katmandu, a meditation course that further shaped her emerging consciousness. “The deep silence, the simple food — soup, bread — sitting on the floor, being with people who were so genuine and loving. It really did change my world.” A highlight was her visit to Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha. Moving on to India, she took cooking classes and went to Varanasi, explored the Taj Mahal and visited Mathura, the birthplace of Krishna, continuing her pilgrimage to the sacred places where the Buddha became enlightened, first taught the dharma, and eventually died. Her travels took in the famous beach at Goa, the Ajanta caves, the teeming streets of Mumbai and Delhi. Following another time home in Greensboro to teach cooking and study yoga, she returned to India to attend the International Yoga Festival at Rishikesh and took her yoga teacher training at Bhagsu, a small village where she heard the Dalai Lama speak several times and visited his temple. Upon returning to Bhagsu, where she continued cooking classes and yoga training — learning to make jewelry and dreamcatchers in the process — she began to formulate her own vision of a life of service in which she shared the wisdom of her travels through cooking and yoga. On her way home, she stopped off in Spain to walk the famous Camino de Santiago, having made up her mind to start a business called Root to Rise. The name is taken from a common term in yoga in which one “grounds down through your feet and extends your arms over your head, lengthening your body and radiating energy.” The name felt right, she adds, because her plan was to “ground down” after her nomadic travels in a place — Greensboro — where her own roots existed, with the purpose with helping the people of her home town “rise” to live their healthiest and fullest life. “One important thing I’ve taken from all of my travels to such beautiful and amazing places is how close to the Earth people in those places live — simply and typically without the pressure of material life and a commercial culture that equates happiness with things you buy or own. They know where their food comes from, and that is almost sacred to them, a daily blessing.” She pauses and smiles. “Basically, I learned that food is medicine for the body and soul. That it nourishes and heals — and affects everything you do in your life.” And for this reason, Cameron Klass returned home with her mind set to put her worldly wisdom — and recipes — to use by integrating a healthy-living style of cooking, a weekly stall at the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market on Yanceyville Street, and a forthcoming cookbook that will feature recipes from her magical mystery tour of the planet. Her longtime customers and yoga students are eager to get their hands on her Root to Rise cookbook, a project Klass envisions expanding into an interactive website with daily meditations, wellness information, food investigations, healthy-living news, grocery lists, in-season recipes and even travel tips. “Everything in life follows a process of growing and learning,” she adds. “That’s why I am excited to share the wonderful things I’ve learned where my roots are.” And we are glad to rise with her. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
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NORTH CAROLINA VEGAN BBQ SANDWICHES Serves: 6 sandwiches Time: 25 minutes
2 tbsp. olive oil 1 yellow onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, minced 2 (14 ounce) cans young jackfruit, rinsed and drained 2 tbsp. apple cider vinegar 2 tbsp. ketchup 1 tbsp. coconut sugar 1 tbsp. white vinegar 1 tbsp. red wine vinegar 1/2 tbsp. Dijon mustard 1/4 cup vegetable broth 1/4 cup water 1 tsp. cumin 1/2 tsp. onion powder 1/2 tsp. paprika 1/2 tsp. chili powder 1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper 1/2 tsp. salt
6 Ezikiel burger buns 1/2 pineapple, sliced thinly 2 avocados, sliced 6 lettuce leaves Heat 2 tbsp. olive oil over medium high heat, until hot but not smoking. Add the onion and garlic, sautéing for 5-7 minutes, until just beginning to brown. Add in the jackfruit, and remaining ingredients. Using a fork or potato masher, break the jackfruit into shreds. Add more water 1 tablespoon at a time if it appears dry. Lower the heat to medium and cook, uncovered, for 12-15 minutes. Stir occasionally to blend flavors. While the jackfruit is simmering, toast the buns until golden brown. Cut the pineapple and set aside. Wash and pat dry the lettuce leaves. When the BBQ is ready, top on the buns, adding in pineapple slices, lettuce, and avocado slices. Enjoy! Store leftover BBQ in the fridge for 2-4 days.
CAMINO SALAD Serves: 4 Time: 15 minutes
4 large handfuls leafy greens 1 can chick-peas, rinsed and drained 1 cucumber, sliced 2 tomatoes, diced 1 cup green olives 1 avocado, sliced 1 cup organic sheep cheese, cubed Salt and pepper to taste 4 tbsp. Cam’s Go-To Dressing Divide the ingredients among four bowls and toss with the dressing. Enjoy! Health tip: When consuming cheese, sheep and goat cheese is a better alternative for health and environmental purposes than cow cheese. Sheep cheese has high levels of conjugated linoleic acid (CLA), which reduces body fat, maintains muscle, and improves bone health. Goat cheese is more easily digested than other cheeses. And both sheep
and goat farms create less of an impact on the Earth than cattle farms. They require less water, produce less waste and methane, and traditionally use more organic farming tactics.
CAM’S GO-TO OIL AND BALSAMIC DRESSING 5/8 cup olive oil 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar 1/8 cup water 1 tsp. dried basil 1 tsp. dried parsley 1/2 tsp. dried oregano Salt and pepper
Place all ingredients in a jar and shake well. Keeps on the counter for 2 weeks.
VERY BERRY SUMMER PARFAIT Serves: 2 Time: 1 hour chill time + 10 minutes
1 (15 ounce) can organic culinary coconut milk, full-fat (refrigerate the can 1 hour or more before opening) 1/2 cup organic frozen strawberries (or berry of choice; if using fresh fruit, add ice) 1 tbsp. ground flaxseed meal 1 tsp. beetroot powder 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract 1/2 tsp. cinnamon Toppings: fresh fruit, organic unsweetened coconut shreds, dash of cinnamon, chopped nuts. Place the can of coconut milk in the refrigerator 1 hour or more prior to making the parfait. When you open the can, use a spoon to place the thick white part that has accumulated on the top in a blender. Add 1/4 cup of the liquid from the can of coconut milk to the blender along with all other ingredients. Blend until smooth, stopping to scrape the sides if needed. To alter the consistency add more ice to thicken or more liquid/water 1 tbsp. at a time to liquify. Divide among two parfait bowls and add your favorite toppings! OH
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The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Sweet Dream Dolce & Amaro is more than just a pastry shop. It’s the chance of a lifetime By Nancy Oakley • Photographs by Mark Wagoner
L-R: Koco Tamburi, Albano Barjami, Mikel Leka 56 O.Henry June 2019
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hat’ll it be? One of the dainty macarons in shades of pink and yellow or the bluish-purple cloud of cheesecake bearing a crown of fresh blueberries? How about a perfectly rounded puff coated with chocolate so shiny it would look just as at home displayed in a museum? Maybe a savory is the way to go — a salty croissant, whose delicate layers crackle and crumble at first bite. Or, you could answer the siren call of miniature pana cottas — vanilla cream, caramel and chocolate — standing sentry in a tray. Fantastical cakes beckon — one consisting of nutella and Chantilly covered in bright green pistachio icing with maraschino cherries on top, another, the “Marilyn Monroe” topped with bright pink lips. These visions of sugarplums — edible works of art — are staples at Dolce & Amaro Artisan Bakery, (which translates to, you guessed it, “sweet and savory”) tucked inside the Westover Gallery of Shops on Westover Terrace. But to the three men behind it, the operation, which opened last fall, is considerably more than a bakery; it is the culmination of a vision and an expression of their love of community. “Together we have 75 years’ experience in the industry,” says Mikel Leka, the patisserie’s manager. “We” refers firstly to his cousin, Koco Tamburi, proprietor of nearby Osteria, which since 2013 has sated many an appetite with signature fare of Italy’s northeast Emilia-Romagna region and extensive wine The Art & Soul of Greensboro
list, and Embur Fire Fusion on Smyres Place, specializing in wood-fired pizzas with a Latin flair. But what would an artisanal bakery be without a pastry chef? Rounding out the trio is the most recent transplant to the Gate City, Albano Barjami, the creative force behind Dolce & Amaro’s jewel-like confections. Growing up together in Emilia-Romagna’s famed resort town of Rimini on the Adriatic coast, the three amici worked in various capacities in the food and hospitality industry, putting in long days during the summers. Come winter, when the tourist season slowed to a halt, they dreamed of another life, of opening their own place together. Little did they expect their dream would take 28 years to achieve. Tamburi worked around Europe, his last stint being in London, before he struck out for Miami in 2001. Years later, when his wife was offered a job with a local pharmaceutical company, Tamburi was all for a move. At the time, just after the financial crisis of 2008, “the food scene here was not what it is now,” Tamburi recalls. He instinctively sensed opportunity and began encouraging his compatriots to join him. Leka’s trajectory was similar, with stints in Miami, then in New York and owing to his wife’s career move, Charlotte, where he managed a group of restaurants. “It is good to follow the woman!” Tamburi quips. Barjami, meanwhile, June 2019
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had been honing his chops, working with some of the rock stars among Europe’s pastry chefs — Rossano Vinciarelli, Leonardo di Carlo, Luigi Biasetto, Antonio Guerre— teaching at international exhibitions, and becoming certified in the art of preparing “biologica” pastries. Loosely translated as “organic,” it carries specific implications that its American counterpart (often a marketer’s catchall phrase) does not. As in, mandatory three years’ training to become a certified “bio” chef, and tightly restricted ingredients. But having jumped through the rigorous culinary hoops in his native country, Barjami is able to whip up sugar- and gluten-free — and utterly delicious — options. The tantalizing macarons, for example, are made with almond flour. Other sweet treats might contain barley malt or rice flour. Glazes are derived from concentrated fruit. He explains that it’s tough to get the proper consistency for the items, some of them taking as long as two weeks to prepare. “It’s a constant balance,” he says to avoid pastries that taste like cardboard. Given their short shelf life, diners with special dietary needs will have to order the pastries in advance (though there are always sugar-free biscotti in one of the bakery’s cases). But if you’re not among the gluten- or sugar-free crowd, then feel free to indulge without too much guilt, because, as Tamburi allows, “Here, flavor is First Place, not the sugar.” Sure enough, a Pateria Napoletana, a traditional Napolese Easter pastry consisting of wheat, egg, ricotta, orange-flower water, lemon and bits of candied fruit gradually unfolds on the tongue, revealing each component — tasting notes in a symphony, as it were. One reason Barjami’s pastries are so flavorful? “We don’t want to sacrifice integrity for taste,” Tamburi allows. So, they import as many ingredients as possible. “Pistachios . . . the best in the world are from Sicily,” he continues. Butter comes from Normandy. For the chocolate éclairs and other items, only 87 percent cocoa will do. Molina Colombo flour, which isn’t overly processed. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
“We are what we eat, we believe, and if we eat something valuable, beautiful, approachable . . . definitely, we are going to be a better person,” he says. He also applies his philosophy to the menus of Osteria, giving diners healthier options with imported authentic Italian ingredients. That sense of community is the beating heart of Dolce & Amaro, where Tamburi hails a couple of customers who’ve stopped in for cappuccino and brioche. Barjami is ever experimenting, blending culinary traditions of his native home with others, from a tiramisù cheesecake containing ricotta and cream cheese, to the French-inspired éclairs and brioches the bakery’s clientele have come to appreciate. Tamburi describes the offerings as “modern,” rather than regional, flashing a series of photos on his smartphone from a recent food expo in Milan to prove his point: The sleek, colorful, sculptural tarts of Sal de Riso, Italy’s top patisserie, look as though they were plucked from Dolce & Amaro’s display cases. Even so, customers frequently come in, looking for sfogliatella or babà au rhum — not part of the original concept, as Leka discovered when the bakery opened last fall. “They were like, ‘What is an Italian bakery without sfogliatella?’ But pastry evolves like anything else, you know?” He shrugs while casting a glance at the case that contains, yes, the popular signatures of Naples, and a few rows over, some treats made of — what’s this? Peanut butter? The customer is always right, as Tamburi, who knows Southern palates all too well, acknowledges. “We have to listen,” he says. “That is why a man has two eyes and one mouth.” The better to spread love — sealed with the “kiss” on a Marilyn Monroe cake. OH Info: dolceamaroartisanbakery.com Nancy Oakley, the senior editor of O.Henry. June 2019
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From Russia, With Love Instagram tastemaker Guyla Lloyd creates a new home and life in Greensboro
By Maria Johnson • Photographs by Amy Freeman
ulya Lloyd stands at her kitchen counter, swaddled in the sounds of a peaceful spring afternoon. A kettle of water simmers on the stove. A breeze sighs through an open window, nudging the white lace curtains that Gulya made. Her husband, Rob, taps on a laptop nearby. Their rescue dog Sonny pushes kibble around his dish with a soft metallic scrape. Birds trill from a stand of bamboo outside. “For now, I make pancake,” explains Gulya, who spent her youth in the Russian republic of Dagestan. “Pancake very easy. This is Russian tradition. Every day. Every week.” Her Instagram followers, all 15,000 of them, see lots of thin pancakes, stuffed and styled in endless variety on @Gulya_Lloyd, her Instagram page, where she fuses her love of photography, cooking and home design. Her style is distinctive, knitting together cottage and country elements with the Danish idea of hygge (pronounced HUE-guh), which translates to “cozy.” But Gulya’s home is not a trendy copy lifted from magazines or Pinterest; it’s the ongoing expression of an artistic person who won’t rest until she creThe Art & Soul of Greensboro
ates what she sees in her mind and feels in her heart. Like these dessert pancakes — crepes, basically — which soon will be stuffed with sweetened sour cream and juicy strawberries. She pours two cups of milk into a glass measuring cup, cracks an egg into the liquid, and dips the tip of a sharp knife into a jar of crystalized vanilla. She extracts a small triangle of white powder. How much is that? She shrugs. “My eyes measure.” A pinch? “Pinch vanilla,” she agrees. She pours in a thin ribbon of vegetable oil and whisks the mixture, then reaches for a canister. “Flour, maybe one cup and half,” she says. She sprinkles a tablespoon of sugar over the cup and reaches for a box of salt. “Pinch salt,” she says, happy to deploy the new word. She whisks more. “Sometimes people use mixer,” she says, her hand whirling. By now, Sonny is scratching his own back, wiggling belly-up on the naturalJune 2019
colored jute rug in the middle of the kitchen floor. Wait a minute. Wasn’t white-washed table on that rug a few days ago? Gulya nods and points to the table, which is now positioned under a nearby window. Rob, freshly retired from 26 years in the U.S. Army, chimes in from across the room. “Two weeks ago, the table was this way,” he says, aligning his hands with the short axis of the room. “Now, it’s this way.” His hands pivot 90 degrees. “Two weeks from now, who knows?” “I’m always change,” says Gulya, her brown eyes smiling. The biggest change in her life happened three years ago, when she married Rob. They met through family. Rob’s brother, also a U.S. Army officer, is married to a Russian woman, and her mother worked with Gulya in the office of a Moscow construction company. The mother talked up Rob to Gulya. The sister-in-law talked up Gulya to Rob. Neither was very interested. Gulya was 36. Rob was 47. Both were confirmed singles focused on their jobs. They enjoyed traveling and living independently. They reluctantly agreed to start an email correspondence in February 2014. They wrote in their native languages. It did not go well. Gulya ran Rob’s emails through a Google translation program. They made no sense to her.
“I say, ‘What you talk about?’” she remembers. He processed her emails with a military translation program. In one email, Gulya asked Rob about the qualities American men typically like in women. The military translation: Did Rob like protected sex? Rob, a native of northwest Texas, was taken aback. “I was like, ‘Well, maybe. Eventually. But not from the get-go.’” No, this would never work. Gulya plucks the kettle from the stove and measures two tablespoons of steaming water. “Hot water is secret. Hot water makes a little bit of that,” she says, touching the eyelets in the lace curtains. Air bubbles? She nods. No baking soda or baking powder in these pancakes? She grimaces, clenches her teeth and taps her incisors. Those ingredients set her teeth on edge? She nods. They met for the first time in August 2014. He tacked a side trip to Moscow onto a vacation to Germany. He and Gulya had a good time, but communication was difficult, and they were always in the company of her friends. They were alone, for the first time, at Christmas later that year when Gulya visited Rob’s brother and sister-in-law in South Carolina. Gulya gave Rob a The Art & Soul of Greensboro
book of pictures she’d taken in Moscow. “From Russia, With Love,” it was titled. The last page bore a message: “To be continued.” Rob, a civil affairs manager who’d served in Bosnia, Iraq and Afghanistan and was posted to his last assignment at a reserve unit in McLeansville, North Carolina, had resisted Gulya’s invitations to Skype. After the meeting in Charleston, he decided video conferencing would be OK. “I went to the dang Apple store and bought an iPad,” he says. Gulya turns up the flame on the gas stove and pours olive oil into a nonstick pan. She ladles in the batter, swirling the pan until the liquid thins to an 8-inch round. Bubbles appear and pop, making eyelets in the pancake. Gulya points to them with her spatula and smiles. The effect of hot water. How old was she when she started making pancakes? Sixteen, she says. That’s when her father threw her, her mother and her brother out. They stayed in Dagestan, she continues, but they had no money, and she was bullied by schoolmates. “They say, ‘She is not nice girl because her mama and papa divorced,’” she recalls. Her mother took her and her brother to Moscow. “She say, ‘We will work. We will be OK,’” Gulya remembers. Late at night, Gulya baked bread. In the morning, she carried it to a store to sell. When she needed more money, she made honey cakes for weddings and parties. She baked her way through university, where she took degrees in biology
and economics. The family lived in a series of 11 apartments. Gulya painted and decorated them, but landlords often evicted her family so they could rent the improved properties to others for more money. Finally, she bought her own apartment. “It could have been in a magazine,” says Rob, recalling his visit to Moscow. There, as here, her palette was light and soothing: Whites, creams and beiges, fair woods and fibers, pale silk flowers, small collections of silver, copper, brass and porcelain. Bold colors and dark lines played second fiddle. “I say, ‘No dark color!’ I want light, light, light!” she says. “She’s had some dark areas in her life,” explains Rob. He proposed one year, to the day, after they began corresponding. They were married by a justice of the peace in Fayetteville in September 2016. The following February, they repeated their vows at a church wedding in Texas. With military precision, the church nuptials occurred precisely two years after their engagement and three years after their first communication — on “17 February,” as Rob puts it. Their first year together was not as orderly. Gulya spoke only a few words of English. They communicated with gestures and translation apps on their cellphones. On Gulya’s first morning in The Art & Soul of Greensboro
this country, Rob went to work and she slept in. When she woke up, she went to the refrigerator to see what she could find for breakfast. “Zero. Only one bottle beer,” she says. She went back to bed. When they went grocery shopping, she asked if he liked grapes. Nope, he said. Yogurt? Nope. He missed what she was trying to tell him. He cooked what she describes as “crazy food,” like ground beef with chopped bell peppers, ketchup and beer. She refused to eat. She felt sick and hungry, emotionally and literally. “We were communicating, but not really communicating,” Rob says. Gulya called her aunt in Belarus, who advised: “He not understand what you want. You tell him.” At the same time, Rob followed the counsel of an Army chaplain and his mom, who told him essentially the same thing: ‘‘Boy, don’t screw this up.’’ He started asking Gulya what she wanted. She longed to cook the foods she liked: fresh bread, homemade yogurt, salmon, soups, couscous, sweet and savory rice, stuffed grape leaves and cabbage leaves, meat and potatoes in pastry pockets, sushi, fresh ravioli and pasta. Gulya had absorbed some recipes on her travels to Thailand, France and Dubai. Then, of course, there were the desserts that her bakery clients and coworkers had loved in Moscow: layered honey cake, fruit-stuffed pancakes, pies, bundt cakes, fruit-nut-and-caramel bars. Sometimes, Rob shared her desserts with his co-workers, who joined the
chorus: “Boy, don’t screw this up.” Together, he and Gulya made a budget and saved money. In December 2017, they ditched apartment living and bought a house: a 1960s three-bedroom ranch in Greensboro’s Sedgefield Lakes neighborhood. Empty for a long time, the for-sale-by-owner home had been painted and updated inside and out. Slowly, Rob and Gulya are transforming the home to a warm and unique place. They shop at their favorite stores — Hobby Lobby, Michaels, The Red Collection, TJ Maxx, Ashley Furniture, and Gulya’s favorite, World Market. “World Market need pay me!” she teases. They acquire little by little. When Gulya wanted some colorful Polish dishes at World Market, they bought a few plates, snared a coupon for spending a certain amount, and waited until Rob’s next paycheck to buy more. “That’s what I really love and respect about her — she understands that life is not a race. It’s a walk, step by step,” he says. He admits it took him a while to be comfortable buying furniture and accessories that weren’t absolutely necessary. “Initially, I was like, ‘Geez, we have to save our money.’ I grew up with the basics,” he says. “As long as you had a roof over you head, and food, it was good. I was kind of a black-andwhite guy.” Gulya grew up in a spare situation, too, but she could look at a space and see what it could be — in full color. “I say, ‘I see in my head. It will be nice,’ ” she says. “I’m vision person.” Gradually, she convinced Rob. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
“When I saw the outcome, I was like, ‘Oh wow, this is nice,’” he says. “Now, I say, ‘Hey, you know what? If it makes you happy, and it doesn’t break the bank, let’s do it.’ Her vision is a gift I envy.” Along the way, he has gained confidence in his aesthetic judgment. “Now, I’ll pick up things at the antique store and go, ‘What about this?’” he says. He admires Gulya’s ability to renovate second-hand items. She brushed white paint over a wooden coffee table and grouted the top with blue-and-white tiles, completely changing the tenor of the piece. She polished tarnished silver bowls and pitchers — bought in boxes of odd lots — and arranged them artfully on an étagère. She purchased antique German teacups, glued them to rustic wooden trays from Walmart, and hung them on the kitchen wall for a cheerful display. After Rob contributed three days of sanding, she lightened his “bachelor brown” bedroom suite to leaven their guest room. She sewed curtains for several rooms. She used fabric scraps to make seasonal decorations. “I’m start 6 a.m.,” she says. “All day, I’m without stop.” On their back porch, she cultivates geraniums, coleus and zinnias for color, basil for the table, and a money tree for financial good fortune. “All the other plants can die, but that one had better survive,” Rob jokes. For her Instagram page, which she started last year, Gulya uses all of her domestic ammunition — food, flowers, furnishings, tableware. She positions and repositions, shoots and reshoots, styles and restyles with an eye to the right composition and light. She deletes hundreds of pictures that don’t meet her standard. “Maybe some people like it, but my eyes do not like,” she says. Many of her Instagram followers live in Russia and other countries.
“I have a lot of messages,” she says. “People send me pictures of their room and say, ‘Gulya, help me!’ I say, ‘In different country it’s hard to help.’ ” Where is she heading with her skills? Maybe she’ll conduct classes in baking and design. Maybe she’ll work for a decorator or photographer. Maybe she’ll go to culinary school. “I’m open,” she says, smiling and shrugging. Most likely, she’ll do what she has always done — go where life takes her and make it as beautiful as she can. Twenty paper-thin, brown pancakes — that’s what the recipe made. They’re stacked densely on a small plate. One by one, Gulya peels them off and slathers them with sour cream kissed by powdered sugar. She slices fresh strawberries, stripes the bleeding hearts across sour cream, rolls the pancakes into spirals, and stacks them in a triangle. Many rolls make up the triangle’s base, fewer make the next layer, and so on. She frosts the mountain with the remaining sour cream. Last year, she visited her mother and brother. Her mother asked her if she missed Russia. Of course, she said yes. When she got back to Greensboro, the refrigerator was empty. So was the freezer she’d stocked for Rob. But her creations were still there, and her husband was still there, happy to see her. Gulya felt something she could not tell her mother. She was home. OH Maria Johnson is a contributing editor to O.Henry.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Ingredients: 1 pound salmon 1 teaspoon sugar 2 tablespoons coarse-grain sea salt 2 tablespoons bourbon or cognac 2 sprigs fresh dill, chopped 1 tablespoon olive oil Lemon wedges for serving Preparation: Rinse salmon with cold water; pat dry with paper towel. Place salmon in large glass dish. Mix together sea salt and sugar; sprinkle evenly over top and bottom of salmon. Pour the bourbon or cognac on top of the salmon; sprinkle with fresh dill. Tightly cover the dish and refrigerate for 2 days, turning the fish after the first day). To serve, place the salmon on a cutting board, pat dry with paper towel. Slice the salmon into small, thin pieces. Drizzle with olive oil. (If not serving immediately, transfer slices to glass jar or jars, add the olive oil and refrigerate until ready to serve.) Serve with lemon wedges, if desired.
Ingredients: 2 tablespoons butter 1 onion, finely chopped 10 small tomatoes 1 pound 85 percent lean ground beef Salt and pepper to taste Preparation: In medium skillet, over medium heat, melt butter. Add onion and sauté until golden, 5-8 minutes. Stir in beef; cook, stirring, until browned, and liquid mostly evaporates. Season with salt and pepper. Cut off the top off of the tomatoes and scoop out flesh into an oven-safe dish, leaving a shell for stuffing. Stuff the tomatoes with the meat/onion mixture and place on top of the tomato flesh in the dish. Cover dish with aluminium foil (do not add water). Bake in preheated 350-degree oven 30 minutes. Remove foil; return dish to oven and cook until the tomatoes are golden color, 10-15 minutes. Serve hot.
Pancakes with Strawberries Ingredients: 2 cups whole milk 1 egg 1 tablespoon sugar Pinch salt 2 tablespoons vegetable oil or olive oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup flour 1/4 cup hot water 2 cups sour cream The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Confectioners’ sugar to taste Chopped fresh strawberries (rinsed first, and patted dry) Mint sprigs to garnish To prepare pancakes, using a hand mixer on low speed, combine first 8 ingredients in medium bowl until smooth. Rub a small skillet lightly with oil and heat over medium heat. When hot, spoon enough batter in pan just to thinly cover entire bottom of pan, rotating skillet to distribute batter evenly. Cook until light brown; flip and cook other side. Repeat with remaining batter. (Entire amount of batter will make 20–24 pancakes.) Let cool. To assemble pancakes, combine sour cream with about 1/4 cup cofectioner’s sugar (or more if you prefer a sweeter mix). Spread 1 tablespoon of mixed cream down the center of pancake; top cream with some of the chopped strawberries. Roll up pancake. Repeat with remaining pancakes, cream and berries. To serve, arrange a layer of rolled pancakes on a serving plate; spread thinly with cream. Repeat layering to form a “pyramid” shape. Garnish with fresh mint, if desired. Note: You can use other fruit as well, such as peaches, apple, pineapple, etc. June 2019
Paw de Deux Or as we say in the South, “Paw Paw” By Ross Howell
simina triloba — a.k.a. pawpaw, papaw, paw paw, paw-paw, American custard apple, poor man’s banana, Quaker delight, hillbilly mango, Appalachian banana — is a small, deciduous tree native to the eastern United States and Canada, growing as far west as Nebraska. Mature trees can reach a height of 35 feet, producing maroon-colored flowers and sweet-tasting, aromatic fruit, the largest edible fruit native to North America, if you don’t count squash — and who other than the most persnickety of botanists would count squash as a fruit? The pawpaw once enjoyed considerable popularity. Its earliest documented mention — according to Owen Native Foods of Cross Junction, Virginia, — is found in a 1541 expedition report of the Spanish explorer Hernando de Soto, who discovered Native Americans cultivating the plant east of the Mississippi River. During the Lewis and Clark Expedition, 1804–1806, the adventurers consumed pawpaws during their journey. Chilled pawpaw fruit was a favorite dessert of George Washington at Mount Vernon, and Thomas Jefferson planted pawpaws at his home, Monticello. The pawpaw has a folk tradition, too. As part of my elementary school education in the mountains of Virginia, I learned to sing this little ditty: Where, oh where is pretty little Susie? [repeated three times] Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch. Pickin’ up pawpaws, puttin’ ’em in her pocket, [repeated three times] Way down yonder in the pawpaw patch.
Important safety tip! Pretty little Susie’s “pocket” was an apron. Pawpaw fruit is remarkably mushy when ripe, so you don’t want to tuck one in the hip pocket of your new Wranglers. In the wild, pawpaws are understory trees, flourishing in fertile bottomland under the shade of taller trees, often propagating by sending up new saplings from their roots. So they’re often encountered in a “patch,” as in the lyrics of my boyhood song. But there are exceptions. Dara Dobson, who owns 7 Pines Native Plant Nursery near Defuniak Springs, Florida, explains that “more mature pawpaw trees are better able to stand strong sunlight.” Charlie Headington, a professor in UNCG’s Master’s in Applied Arts & Sciences program and advocate for low-maintenance, organic, edible and diverse community gardens, notes there are two pawpaws growing in full sunlight at Greensboro Montessori School on Horse Pen Creek Road. “They’re 10 to 12 feet tall and are located to the left of the school building in a terraced garden,” Headington says. “You can’t get in the gate but you can look at them over the fence that has scuppernong grapevines woven through it. “There are two smaller pawpaws in the Meeting Place garden at the corner of Smith and Prescott streets,” Headington adds. “They’re labeled for identification.” In addition to sending up saplings from their root systems, pawpaws also reproduce by way of flowers and the big seeds their fruit encases. To my knowledge there are no songs celebrating the fragrance of the pawpaw flower, and for good reason. They produce little to no odor at all, but The Art & Soul of Greensboro
what fragrance they do emit smells remarkably like roadkill. Alas, the trees’ leaves, twigs and bark are also foul-smelling, loaded with natural insecticides called acetogenins. Rarely are their leaves eaten by rabbits or deer. But they’re quite tasty to the palates of zebra swallowtail butterfly larvae. Not only do the larvae enjoy protection from the predation of birds and other critters by virtue of the acetogenins they ingest with the leaves, the spectacularly colored adult butterflies do, as well. Raccoons, squirrels, opossums and other critters enjoy eating the ripe fruit of the pawpaw, thus helping spread its seed in the forest. “Opossums are traditionally the raiders of the pawpaw patch,” says Greensboro resident David Waller, professor emeritus of the department of Biological Sciences at Kentucky State University, “but I bet bears were more important to the tree in pre-settlement America.” Waller first heard about the pawpaw during a discussion with a KSU botanist friend about guanabana, a fruit found in Mexico that’s a relative of the pawpaw. Later he discovered a pawpaw patch thriving in a marshy area on the KSU campus. “On sunny days, it was so pleasant to visit there and be in the bright green light under the huge leaves close overhead,” Waller says. “In spring the shocking, big, brown-petaled flowers popped out of woody branches, then came the lumpy-sausage fruits, fragrant when ripe in late summer — all surprisingly exotic, yet it’s a native tree!” KSU has the only full-time pawpaw research program in the world. Focusing on issues like propagation, genetic diversity, orchard management, and techniques to improve fruit ripening and transport, the university hosts an international festival, which last year drew representatives from 19 states and European countries including Holland, Slovenia and Germany. National Public Radio’s Ally Schweitzer, writing about a couple who’d planted a pawpaw orchard in rural Maryland, notes that with consumers’ increasing desire for fresh, locally produced foods, farmers markets and trendy breweries and eateries have “embraced the fruit.” These developments have even earned the pawpaw a new alias — “hipster banana.” Interested in learning more about the resurgent pawpaw? The 21st Annual Ohio Pawpaw Fest 2019 is scheduled for September 13–15 near Lake Snowden, Albany, Ohio. Waller has attended the festival a The Art & Soul of Greensboro
couple of times. “It’s an enthusiastic social event with plenty of pawpaw information, souvenirs and some saplings in pots to plant in your own back yard,” he says. “Along with other nature stuff by local groups.” Closer by is the N.C. Cooperative Extension’s North Carolina Pawpaw Festival, which takes place in Forsyth County, usually on the last Saturday in August. While an event isn’t planned for 2019, vendors at past N.C. festivals have offered seeds and saplings for planting, ripe fruit for eating, along with samples of pawpaw and spiceberry jam, pawpaw gelato and pawpaw beer! You can follow the N.C. Pawpaw Festival on Facebook using the handle @ncpawpaw. OH Ross Howell Jr. planted a native pawpaw in a wet area at the far end of the lot at his wife Mary Leigh’s house in Florida. There was no discussion about the fragrance of pawpaw flowers before he planted the sapling, and he hopes there never will be.
Local bartenders mixed it up at a recent competition, producing some top-drawer tipples, according to two judges from O.Henry By Billy Ingram and Annie Vorys Winner: Jordan Harwood
Jordan Harwood’s Porch Wing
1 oz peach-mint tea simple syrup (see recipe) 2 oz Hennessy VS 3/4 oz fresh lemon juice 1/4 oz Copper & King’s Destillarè Orange Curaçao 3 dashes Angostura Bitters 2 dashes Fee Brothers Peach Bitters Shake all ingredients over ice; strain and serve up in a coupe. Peach-mint tea simple syrup: In a medium saucepan, combine 3 cups chopped fresh peach, 1 cup brewed black tea and 1 cup sugar. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes. Remove from heat and add about 40 mint leaves to infuse while cooling. Finely strain when cool.
Max Barwick’s The Skiff 2 oz Hennessey VS 3/4 oz coconut-infused Cointreau 3/4 oz pineapple juice 5 dashes absinthe
Shake all ingredients over ice; strain and serve up in a coupe.
Robert Rhodes’ Blackberry Pie 2 oz Hennessey VS 3/4 oz lemon juice 1/2 oz Solerno Blood Orange Liqueur 3/4 oz blackberry pie syrup (see recipe) Blackberries and orange peel to garnish
Shake all ingredients over ice; strain and serve up in a coupe. Blackberry pie syrup: Soak 25–30 blackberries in 16 oz Hennessey VS for 4 hours. In a saucepan, combine blackberries and cognac with 8 oz water, 1 cup sugar, 1 1/2 sticks cinnamon, strip of orange peel and 3 drops of vanilla extract. Bring to a boil; lower heat to simmer and simmer 30 minutes to one hour. Cool and strain. OH Billy Ingram and Annie Vorys are happy to continue in their roles as cocktail judges — with or without a competition.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
PHOTOGRAPH BY JOHN MICHAEL
ram & Draught has revved up the Greensboro bar scene, quickly becoming the latest hub for downtown drinks and hijinks. This hip little joint, formerly a service station on the corner of Eugene and Gate City Boulevard, has been transformed into a super-comfy upscale hangout that’s hosted movie nights, live music and — if you literally want to take the edge off — hatchet-throwing. But the watering hole is best known for its highbrow seasonal cocktail menus. Wrestling with upholding their newfound rep for pretty pours, they recently called three Triad bartenders to the mat against the home team for the ultimate Sidecar Competition. When asked to judge the contest on a panel that could well have been described as an awkward dating scene (our compatriots were an administrative assistant, vegan-food vendor and a distiller), Annie’s response was: “Be still, oh beating liver! You’ve spent a lifetime training for this!” Our bible (one of many), the 1998 volume Atomic Cocktails, likens a sidecar to a daiquiri, but with brandy instead of rum, Cointreau in place of sugar syrup, and the addition of fresh lemon or lime juice (unless you’re the “hardcore” type). The guide goes on to say that the libation was a favorite of no less than Ernest Hemingway’s during his Moveable Feast expat years in Paris. Good enough for Papa, good enough for us! One by one, the competitors stepped up, describing their version of the classic. Hosted by Hennessy, there was only one rule: Use Hennessy VSOP. Billy was particularly impressed with “the verve the barroom mixmasters exhibited and the preparation involved in their concoctions so everything could be served up quickly.” Lao’s Robert Rhodes charred his orange peel and soaked blackberries in liqueur. Max Barwick of 1618 Midtown educated us on absinthe as he mixed his version. Country girl and Dram & Draught’s own Jordan Harwood brought in her homemade peach-mint tea in a potion she calls Porch Swing. “That personal touch, and her signature orange peel rosette, sold us judges,” declares Annie. Billy concurs, giving props to all the “refreshing” elixirs, particularly Harwood’s. “Makes me want to go down there right now and order one (which I promptly did after writing this!).” As for Annie: “Beat you to it, Buster! Where do you think I found my muse for this piece?” Life don’t mean a thing till you’ve tried the Porch Swing. For something stiff, go for the Skiff, Max Barwick’s island-y take on the traditional sidecar placing second in this competition. Another one to try? Robert Rhodes’ Blackberry Pie. Mix ’em yourself using the following recipes — and be careful these sidecars don’t knock you sideways.
A L M A N A C
By Ash Alder
One whiff of wild honeysuckle sends me down the bumpy dirt road, down the gravel drive, down to the back paddock, where the bay pony greets me at the gate, alfalfa hay tangled in her thick black mane. As a child, summer mornings at the farm were sacred to me. At the earliest light, while the air was still cool, we watered flowerbeds and drinking troughs, then took off bareback down the lush woodland riding trail. Past the quiet creek, where water moccasins sunned on fallen logs, past the neighboring farm, where an ancient donkey wheezed in exaltation, on past the patch of ripening blackberries, I return to the place I first experienced the taste of wild honeysuckle, a place I return each June, if only in my mind. This year, summer solstice lands on Friday, June 21. And yet the sweetness of the season arrives unexpectedly — in an instant, in one delicious whiff, inside a single drop of nectar.
Figs of Summer
June marks the arrival of the earliest blackberries and scuppernongs. Picking herbs at dawn for midday pesto. Fried squash blossoms and fresh sweet corn. The first ripe fig. I’ll never forget the Devon Park rental with the young fig tree out back. “It’s never produced fruit,” the landlord had told me. And yet, one June evening, after scrubbing and filling the concrete birdbath, there it was: a tiny green fruit. I watched that perfect fig slowly ripen day after day, for weeks. Just as a caterpillar emerges from cocoon-state completely transformed, one day my darling fig was purple. Soon, it would be ready to harvest. One more day, I told myself. But the next day, the birds had beaten me to it. Take whatever wisdom you wish from this little memory. And as for you birds: I hope the fig was delicious.
In addition to the uplifting aroma of its summer blossoms, the honeysuckle is a plant of many surprising health benefits. (Add honeysuckle oil to the bath, for example, to soothe arthritis or muscle pain.) But what could be sweeter than adding homemade honeysuckle syrup to your favorite summer refreshment (iced tea, lemonade, sorbet, fresh fruit, you-name-it)? The below recipe stores up to one month in the refrigerator. Do make sure to harvest blossoms that are free from pesticides. And, if you make enough syrup, share the sweetness with a friend.
Honeysuckle Blossom Syrup Ingredients
1 cup sugar 1 cup water 50 honeysuckle blossoms
In a small saucepan, combine sugar, water and honeysuckle blossoms. Using medium to high heat, bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and simmer for 3-4 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool completely. Strain into a jar; refrigerate.
It is the month of June, The month of leaves and roses, When pleasant sights salute the eyes and pleasant scents the noses. — Nathaniel Parker Willis
No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. — Epictetus The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Let There Be Magic
The Full Strawberry Moon rises on Monday, June 17 — four days before the solstice. Also called the Honey Moon, the Mead Moon and the Full Rose Moon, allow the brilliance of this June wonder to illuminate all the magic and potential of this brand-new season. And if you happen upon ripe wild strawberries for the occasion, don’t forget the honeysuckle blossom syrup in the fridge.
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CURTAINS! 10 a.m. Get in on the acts of the second biennial festival of the NC Triad Theatre League. GTCC Campus, 901 S. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 3732728 or triadtheatre.com. LATIN LOVERS. 8 p.m. Swoon to the romantic sounds of Latin pop bands Camila and Sin Bandera. Greensboro Coliseum, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 745-3000 or ticketmaster.com.
June 1 & 2 PLAYDAYS. 10 a.m. & 1 p.m. Take recess Old School with early American outdoor games, such as rolling the hoop, stilt-walking and more. Historical Park, High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
June 1–5 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255 or milb.com.
June 1–August 18 HIP TO BE SQUARE. Or round, or triangular. Catch the exhibit, Double-Edged: Geometric Abstraction Then and Now. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 weatherspoon.uncg.edu.
June 1–October 20 THE BOD SQUAD. Get corporeal at Here We Are:
Painting and Sculpting the Human Form. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 3345770 or weatherspoon.uncg.edu.
June 1–July 14 LA DOLCE VITA. 5:30 p.m. Satisfy your sweet tooth at the food-themed exhibit Sweet. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.
June 2 CREPED CRUSADER. 11:30 a.m. That would be Chef Reto, whose pop-up Sunday series of classes kicks off with Crepe Brunch. Reto’s Kitchen, 600 S. Elam Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
June 3 THE NAME’S SMITH. 6:30 p.m. Or Jones, Thomas or Johnson. How to determine your genealogy if there’s a common name shared by so many? Find out via “Conquering a Common Surname: A Case Study.” Morgan Room, High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
June 3–30 EXTRA EDIBLES. Drop off any surplus produce from your garden at one of Share the Harvest’s collection sites in Guilford County. Times and locations vary. Info: sharetheharvestguilfordcounty.org.
JARDIN DE JOIE. Noon. With sidewalk cafes, a Poodle Parade, plein air artists, it’s not a stretch to imagine yourself in the City of Light. Join the fun at Parisian Promenade. Tanger Family Bicentennial Garden, 1105 Hobbs Road, Greensboro. Info: greensborobeautiful.org.
FIN-FIN SITUATION. 6 p.m. Learn the basics of cooking fish, courtesy of Chef Reto. Reto’s Kitchen, 600 S. Elam Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
FAM TRIP. 1 p.m. Pack a picnic, and enjoy games and creative pursuits at Family Fun Day. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: highpointmuseum.org.
AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Anthony Barkley, author of The 6 Laws of Success. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
MUSEP. 6 p.m. & 7:15 p.m. Stake your place at the return of Music for a Sunday Evening in the Park, with R&B from Gate City Divas and Americana and folk tunes from David Childers and the Serpents. White Oak Amphitheatre, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
June 6 CHILD’S PLAY. 5:30 p.m. For adults! The young-at-heart are invited to celebrate 20 years of interactive exhibits and programs with pizza and beer at Throwback Thursday: Adult Night at GCM. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: gcmuseum.org. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’
HATS OFF. 7 p.m. Or on, rather, as country superstars Clint Black and Trace Adkins take the stage. White Oak Amphitheatre, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Tickets: (800) 7453000 or ticketmaster.com.
June 7 GYRATE! 10 p.m. To DJ Jessica Mashburn’s spins at Pop-Up Dance Club. Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 379-0699 or printworksbistro.com.
June 8 WALK THE (TIME)LINE. 8 a.m. Glenn Chavis is your guide to the past on a walking tour of historic Washington Street. Changing Tides Cultural Center, 613 Washington St., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859. IRONSIDES. 10 a.m. You-Know-Who has stoked the forge and is ready to strike. The Blacksmith is back! High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org. MUSEP. 6 p.m. Put your jitterbugging shoes on for some jazz and swing, courtesy of Greensboro Big Band. Greensboro College, 815 W. Market St., Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
June 8–September 15 PROFS PIECES. It’s back! Admire the work of local professors at 2019 UNCG Faculty Biennial. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 weatherspoon.uncg.edu. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
June 9 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet cookbook author Lisa Burns, who penned Family Meals from Scratch in Your Instant Pot. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. SENTIMENTAL MOOD. 3 p.m. & 7 p.m. Hear the works of an American original at Piedmont Triad Jazz Orchestra’s concert, “The Music of Duke Ellington.” The Crown, Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
June 9 & 23 IRONSIDES, PART DEUX. 1 p.m. Just can’t get enough! The Blacksmith is at it again. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
June 10 SEW-SEW. 6 p.m. Learn how to crank up that Singer, Janome or Bernina at a free sewing class. Space is limited. Central Library, 219 N. Church St. To register: (336) 335-5430.
other school year, and look back on it from above, in the 30-foot-high Neptune Climbers overlooking downtown. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. To register: gcmuseum.org. TOOTHSOME. 7 p.m. Don’t go in the water! See the flick that started the blockbuster trend, Jaws. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Rob Christensen, author of The Rise and Fall of the Branchhead Boys: North Carolina’s Scott Family and the Era of Progressive Politics. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
June 12 ACHTONGUE! 6 p.m. Your taste buds will stand at attention at German Night Out, where you’ll learn to make spaetzle, potato salad and more. Reto’s Kitchen, 600 S. Elam Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255 or milb.com.
SPLITTING CARES. 1 p.m. The terms “palliative” and “hospice” are confusing, but there is a distinction. Learn all about it at Hospice and Palliative Care of Greensboro. Lusk Center, 2501 Summit Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
OUT ’N’ UP. 5 p.m. Kids age 11–14 can celebrate an-
EARLY STEPS. 7:30 p.m. Dance Project and NC Dance Festival host an informal presentation of new works in June 2019
Arts Calendar progress by choreographers and dancers in the Spring 2019 Artist in Residence Program. Dance Project Studio, 323, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 373-2727 or send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. MUSIC OF A GENERATION. 8 p.m. By now you’ve heard about it through the grapevine, and it’s a shame if you miss it: Motown Forever, the revue of Motor City classics, featuring The Spinners, G.C. Cameron and The Temptations’ Glenn Leonard. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. TRAVELIN’ TUNES. 8:30 p.m. Banjo, guitar, fiddle, bass and mandolin, plus five guys from Asheville, and you’ve got Songs from the Road Band. Hear their brand of Americana. The Crown, Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
June 15 BURIED AWAY. 11 a.m. Local historian Phyllis Bridges gives a guided tour of Oakwood Municipal Cemetery. 512 Steele Street (use Steele Street entrance), High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
June 20–26 HOPPERS HERE. The Greensboro Grasshoppers are home again. First National Bank Field, 408 Bellemeade St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 268-2255 or milb.com.
June 21 ROUSE-ING TUNES. 8 p.m. From singer/songwriter Josh Rouse. The Crown, Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
YOUNG SCRIBES. 9 a.m.–12:30 p.m. Get ’em scribbling while they’re young at Summer Teen Indie Writing Workshops. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
June 27 PRODUCTS OF IMAGINATION. 4 p.m. What once seemed the stuff of sci-fi fantasy is here. Learn the basics of CAD (computer-assisted design) and 3D printing. Central Library, 219 N. Church St., Greensboro. To register: (336) 335-3450.
LILY LOVERS. 1 p.m. Admire the arrangements at the Triad Daylily Fans’ Second Annual Daylily Flower & Design Show — and plant sale. Fellowship Presbyterian Church, 2005 New Garden Road, Greensboro. Info: nctriad.weebly.com.
AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 7 p.m. Meet Andy Parker, author of For Alison: The Murder of a Young Journalist and a Father’s Fight for Gun Safety. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
THE LONGEST DAY. 2 p.m. Literally. Get lit with other sun-worshippers for the local 15th Summer Solstice celebration. Greensboro Arboretum, 401 Ashland Drive, Greensboro. Info: greensborosummersolstice.org.
JUST JOSHIN’. 9 p.m. With reggae master Mighty Joshua and the Zion #5. The Crown. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
June 22–July 27
June 27 & 28
LBBBBQ. 6 p.m. That would be Little Brother Brewing and barbecue. Guzzle and gobble ’em at Adult Cooking Brews and ’Que Dinner. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Registration: gcmuseum.com.
EMF. Orchestral concerts, piano and violin soloists, a guitar summit, free concerts and more. Yep. It’s the return of Eastern Music Festival. Concert performance times vary as do locations throughout Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 272-0160 or easternmusicfestival.org.
LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION! 7 p.m. & 9:15 p.m. (on 6/28). Get ready for your close-up on the red carpet at the 48-hour Film Project, featuring short films by N.C. filmmakers. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
WHAT’S HOPPENIN’? 1 p.m. Craft beer, that’s what. Sample local brews and fare from food trucks, and put your artistic skill to work at “Let’s Get Crafty,” held in conjunction with the exhibition, Sweet. GreenHill, 220 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-7460, ext. 100 or greenhillnc.org.
June 22–September 29
THREADS. See the warp and weft of Greensboro’s textile industry play out in Interwoven: Natural and Illusory Textiles. Weatherspoon Art Museum, 500 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 334-5770 weatherspoon. uncg.edu.
DON’T STOP BELIEVIN’. 8 p.m. Rock ’n’ roll forever yours faithfully — thanks to tribute bands. Catch Classic Journey Live. Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com. GOING WITH THE GRAIN. 8:30 p.m. Appalachian soul fills the air as Aaron “Woody” Wood takes the stage. The Crown, Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
June 23 AUTHOR, AUTHOR. 3 p.m. Meet poet Dana Wildsmith, author of One Light. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
June 15 & 16
FED WITH MED. 6 p.m. This Sunday, Chef Reto gives pointers on serving up some Mediterranean-style fish. Reto’s Kitchen, 600 S. Elam Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
TO HAVE AND HAVE KNOT. 10 a.m. & 1 p.m. And to have and to hold, too. Learn about the origins of popular wedding traditions. Historical Park, High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859 or highpointmuseum.org.
MUSEP. 6 p.m. & 7: 15 p.m. Toes will be tappin’ and hands will be clappin’ to the bluegrass sounds of Nu Blu and folk tunes of The Radial. Lindley Park, Starmount Drive at West Market Street and Wendover Avenue, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
MUSEP. 6:30 p.m. Philharmonia of Greensboro delivers a program of classical and pops. Barber Park, 1500 Barber Park Road, Greensboro. Info: musep.info.
June 20 MILLSAP RISING. 8 p.m. Parker Millsap, that is. Hear the up-and-coming troubadour of all things Americana. The Crown, Carolina Theatre, 310 S. Greene St., Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 333-2605 or carolinatheatre.com.
MORESEW. 6 p.m. Put some zip into your life — literally — at an intermediate sewing class that teaches you how to install zippers. Space is limited. Central Library, 219 N. Church St. To register: (336) 335-5430
June 24–28 TOQUES FOR TYKES. 9 a.m.–2 p.m. Put the kiddies to work in the kitchen at Summer Junior Chefs Camp Bonjour! Reto’s Kitchen, 600 S. Elam Ave., Greensboro. Tickets: ticketmetriad.com.
“DRIVE-IN” THEATER. 5 p.m. Well sort of. Decorate your own cardboard car and then “drive in” to watch Smalls, Benny “the Jet” Rodriguez and other team members play ball on the big screen. Bring blankets and pillows for added comfort. High Point Museum, 1859 E. Lexington Ave., High Point. Info: (336) 885-1859.
June 29 & 30 SLITHERING. 10 a.m. If snakes, lizards and other scaly critters are your thing then head to Repticon. We’ll stay at home, thank you. Special Events Center, Greensboro Coliseum Complex, 1921 W. Gate City Blvd., Greensboro. Tickets available at the door. Info: greensborocoliseum.com.
WEEKLY HAPPENINGS Mondays BUZZING. 10 a.m. Your busy little bees engage in a Busy Bees preschool program focusing on music, movement, garden exploration and fun in the kitchen. (Members only). Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. To preregister: (336) 5742898 or gcmuseum.com. CHAT-EAU. Noon. French leave? Au contraire! Join French Table, a conversation group. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
Tuesdays READ ALL ABOUT IT. Treat your little ones to story times: BookWorms (ages 12–24 months) meets at 10 The Art & Soul of Greensboro
June 22â&#x20AC;&#x201C;July 27 | 2019 Greensboro, North Carolina
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Arts Calendar a.m.; Time for Twos meets at 11 a.m. Storyroom; Family Storytime for all ages meets at 6:30 p.m. High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. ONCE UPON A TIME. 2 p.m. Afterschool Storytime convenes for children of all ages. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com. CREATIVE KIDDIES. 3:30 p.m. Art Explorers is a group that encourages children ages 3 to 5 to release their creativity through a variety of artistic media and techniques. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. To register: gcmuseum.com. PICKIN’ AND GRINNIN’ 6 until 9 p.m. Y’all come for Songs from a Southern Kitchen, curated by O.Henry’s own Ogi Overman and featuring performances from Windfall (6/4), Nishah DiMeo (6/11), Warren, Bodle, and Allen (6/18), Will Nesmith and Lauren Light (6/25). Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 W. Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/ fried_chicken.htm.
Fridays ($3 on First Fridays). Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com.
TWICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Preschool Storytime convenes for children ages 3–5. Storyroom, High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3666 or highpointpubliclibrary.com.
SEEING STARS. 5 p.m. Under the stars! Spartan Cinema, a free, summer film festival, kicks off this month with screenings of Avengers: Infinity War, (6/7), Ferdinand (6/14), Bohemian Rhapsody (6/21) and Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (6/28). LeBauer Park, 208 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: greensborodowntownparks.org.
ALL THAT JAZZ. 5:30 until 8 p.m. Hear live, local jazz with Frankie Alexander (6/6), Drorester Alexander (6/13), Joey Barnes (6/20), and Diana Tuffin (6/27). All performances are at the O.Henry Hotel Social Lobby Bar. No cover. 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or www.ohenryhotel.com/jazz.htm.
JUNIOR GENIUSES. Kids can explore and express themselves at Masterpiece Fridays, featuring art activities, a lollipop tour of the current exhibit and storytime, including a reading of The Puddle Pail (6/7). GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. To register: (336) 3337460 or greenhillnc.org.
JAZZ NIGHT. 7 p.m. Fresh-ground, fresh-brewed coffee is served with a side of jazz at Tate Street Coffee House, 334 Tate St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 275-2754 or www. tatestreetcoffeehouse.com.
STU-STU-STUDIO. 5 p.m. Join in on Friday Night Studios: Focus on Food, workshops centered around nutrition and health, in conjunction with the exhibition Sweet. Through 7/12. Pay what you wish. GreenHill, 200 N. Davie St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 333-7460 or greenhillnc.org.
OPEN MIC COMEDY. 8–9:35 p.m. Local pros and amateurs take the mic at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or idiotboxers.com.
Fridays THE HALF OF IT. 5 p.m. Enjoy the hands-on exhibits and activities for half the cost of admission at $5 Fun
Fridays & Saturdays NIGHTMARES ON ELM STREET. 8 p.m. A 90-minute, historical, candlelit ghost walking tour of Downtown Greensboro. Tickets: (336) 905-4060 or carolinahistoryandhaunts.com/information.
Arts & Culture
TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 8 a.m. until noon. The produce is fresh and the cut fleurs belles. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org.
MUSSELS, WINE & MUSIC. 7 until 10 p.m. Mussels with house-cut fries for $15, wines from $10–15 a bottle and live music by AM rOdeO — at Print Works Bistro, 702 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3790699 or printworksbistro.com/live_music.htm.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Arts Calendar Saturdays TO MARKET, TO MARKET. 7 a.m. until noon. The produce is still fresh and the cut fleurs still belles. Greensboro Farmers Curb Market, 501 Yanceyville St., Greensboro. Info: gsofarmersmarket.org. MORE MARKET MANIA. 8:30 a.m. See what’s on tap at the High Point Farmers Market, with programs, “Squash Bash,” a food art contest (6/1); “Garden Day” (6/8); “Discover Your Library” (6/15) and more on 6/22 & 6/29. High Point Public Library, 901 N. Main St., High Point. Info: (336) 883-3011 or highpointnc.gov. THRICE UPON A TIME. 11 a.m. Hear a good yarn at Children’s Storytime. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com. GENIUS AND JAVA. 11:15 a.m. With a cup of Joe as inspiration, create that masterpiece at Coffee and Canvas, which pairs painting and sipping. Cost is $5 and includes art supplies and beans. Griffin Recreation Center, 5301 Hilltop Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 3732928 or email Latrisha.Carmon@greensboro-nc.gov. WRITE IS MIGHT. 3 p.m. Avoid writer’s block by joining a block of writers at Come Write In, a confab of scribes who discuss their literary projects. Scuppernong Books, 304 S. Elm St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 763-1919 or scuppernongbooks.com.
JAZZ ENCORE. 6:30 p.m. Hear contemporary jazz cats, Aaron Matson, Ariel Pocock (6/1), Diana Tuffina and The O.Henry Trio (6/8), Jessica Schneider with Aaron Matson, Ariel Pocock, Will Ledbetter, and Chris Peebles (6/15), and ONXY Club Boys (6/29), while noshing on seasonal tapas at O.Henry Jazz series for Select Saturdays. O.Henry Hotel, 624 Green Valley Road, Greensboro. Info: (336) 854-2000 or ohenryhotel.com. IMPROV COMEDY. 10 p.m. on Saturday, plus an 8 p.m. show appropriate for the whole family. The Idiot Boxers create scenes on the spot and build upon the ideas of others, creating shows that are one-of-a-kind — at the Idiot Box, 2134 Lawndale Drive, Greensboro. Info: (336) 274-2699 or idiotboxers.com.
Saturdays & Sundays KIDS’ CRAFTS. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop — unless you enroll Junior in one of three structured activities at Greensboro Children’s Museum: Art Studio encourages making art in all kinds of media; at Music Makers kids can shake, rattle and roll with percussion instruments; while Get Moving! inspires physical activities. Times and dates vary. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or send an email mailto: firstname.lastname@example.org.
one?), courtesy of Chef Irvin J. Williams, while students from the Miles Davis Jazz Program serenade you with smooth jazz. The Historic Magnolia House, 442 Gorrell St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 617-3382 or thehistoricmagnoliahouse.com. HALF FOR HALF-PINTS. 1 p.m. And grown-ups, too. A $5 admission, as opposed to the usual $10, will allow you entry to exhibits and more. Greensboro Children’s Museum, 220 N. Church St., Greensboro. Info: (336) 574-2898 or gcmuseum.com. MISSING YOUR GRANDMA? 3 p.m. until it’s gone: Tuck into Chef Felicia’s skillet-fried chicken, and mop that cornbread in, your choice, giblet gravy or potlikker. Lucky 32 Southern Kitchen, 1421 W. Westover Terrace, Greensboro. Info: (336) 370-0707 or lucky32.com/ fried_chicken.htm.
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Sundays GROOVE AND GRUB. 11 a.m. Chow down on mouth-watering Southern brunch fare (biscuits, any-
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By Nancy Oakley • Photographs by Amy Freeman
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This Father’s Day give him the gift of staying home. Quality Care, Kindness & Affordability. All while staying at home.
Kathy Nevil, RN • Janet McGoldrick, RN (Owner) Angelia Cox, RN (Owner) • Cathy Propst, RN
1515 W Cornwallis Drive, Suite 100 Greensboro, NC 27408
Phone: 336.285.9107 Fax: 336.285.9109
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Everyday is a beautiful day at Dirty Dogs!
Life & Home
THE LARGEST SELECTION OF GOURMET CHOCOLATES AND FUDGE IN THE TRIAD!
• Dog Treats and Antlers • Shampoos, Conditioners and Fragrances • Dog Toys • Collars and Leashes
• Self-Service Dog Wash • Premium Dog Wash • Grooming Introducing Heather Richardson, Pet Stylist • 336-587-0195
on your 1st 60 or 90 Minute Custom Massage w/any therapist New Clients only. Not valid with any other specials or discounts
Welcome Silvia Durango, LMBT, Shalae Walker, LMBT & Mary Stewart, LMBT to our Massage Team!
2511 BATTLEGROUND AVENUE, GREENSBORO, NC K9CRZY7@aol.com • www.dirtydogsgso.com (336) 617-7191 • Like us on Facebook
Visit our website for hours, services and other information.
5 2 3 S ta te S t, G reen sbo ro , N C
529 S Elm St. | Greensboro, NC 27406 www.gatecitycandycompany.com
Massage services provided by NC Licensed Massage and Bodywork Therapists.
4710 PLEASANT GARDEN ROAD Pleasant Garden, NC 27313 $101,200 | 2BR 1 BA USDA Eligible location! This cute cottage is located in the heart of Pleasant Garden, just minutes from the local shops. Permanent stairs lead up to a floored attic. There is a spacious eat in kitchen with an abundance of counter space and cabinets. Home is on a large lot with wired garage/workshop.
SPAY/NEUTER & WELLNESS CLINIC
YVONNE STOCKARD WILLARD Allen Tate Realty, Inc.
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Neurofeedback is training the brain waves or EEG to assist the brain in learning to function normally.
I N N E W I RV I N G PA R K
Neurofeedback training reduces the symptoms of many issues in children, teens and adults including:
1810 CARMEL RD 5 Beds/3.1 Baths In-Law Suite with Separate Entrance Bonus Room • Kitchen Renovated in 2017 Entertainer’s Paradise with Multi-Level Deck, Patio, Fire Pit, Hot Tub!
• ADD/ADHD • Depression • Anxiety • Memory Decline • Head Injury • Addiction • PTSD and more
REALTOR®, BROKER, MBA, ABR, CSP, GRI, CRS, SFR, CPM • email@example.com www.michelleporter.com ©2017 BHH Affiiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.
Life & Home
825 South Main Street Burlington, NC 27215 336-222-0717
1840 Pembroke Road, Suite 1 Greensboro, NC 27408 336-315-2331
Neurofeedback Associates Inc. ENHANCING BRAIN PERFORMANCE FOR DAILY LIFE
Gail Sanders Durgin, Ph.D., BCN-Fellow, QEEG 2309 West Cone Blvd, Suite 210 | Greensboro
336.540.1972 | www.EnhancedBrain.org
M A R ION Tile & Flooring
CERAMIC TILE • MARBLE • VINYL • CARPET • HARDWOOD
Porcelain & Ceramic Tile Brick & Stone Marble & Granite • Cork Hardwood • Carpet Luxury Vinyl Tile Bathroom Remodeling Kitchen Floors & Backsplashes
Turning Ordinary into Extraordinary
Complete Installation Service by Qualified Craftsmen 4719 Pleasant Garden Road Pleasant Garden, NC Monday - Friday • 9am-5pm
336-674-8839 www.mariontile.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Lois von der Goltz, Carole Potter, Nivida Murphy
Louis Williams, David Allen
Greensboro Ballet Reverse Raffle Saturday, April 13, 2019
Photographs by Lynn Donovan William von der Goltz, Charlie Murphy, Chip Potter, Rebecca Cochran, Bobby Doolittle
Brent & Holly Christensen Leah & Ben Wall
Susan Porter, Carol Carpenter, Richard Porter, Charlie Lee
Margaret Arbuckle, Ada Adele Arbuckle
Katie Lockwood, Stephanie Koch, Jennifer Jones
Peter & Marti Hazelrigg Wendy & Alan Woodlief
Kess, Isabella, Chloe & Boon Thongteum
Bill Johnston, Tom Fitzgerald
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Talia Lasovsky, Mankie Fedler, Lisa Lasovsky
Greensboro Hadassah Chocolate Seder Sunday, April 07, 2019
Photographs by Lynn Donovan Elana Sigal, Rabbi Rebecca Ben-Gideon, Jen Abeles, Juliet Goodman
Cassie & Quinn Silverman Gail Haber, Mankie Felder Azucena Gert-Roberts, Esther Gert, AnNorah Sater
Frandee Woolf, Mindy & Ella Andrews, Emily Gray
Naomi & Rina Kleiner
Tracy, Jayna & Zoe Simon
Lois Losyk, Marlene Goland, Gail Haber
Ila Rosenthal, Addie Sellars, Leslie Singerman
Susan Gutterman, Marilyn Forman Chandler
Olivia Kleiman, Jennie Spallone
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Irving Park LADIES CLOTHING, GIFTS, BABY, JEWELRY, GIFTS FOR THE HOME, TABLEWARE, DELICIOUS FOOD
1738 Battleground Ave • Irving Park Plaza Shopping Center • Greensboro, NC • (336) 273-3566
Be your own kind of beautiful ...
Gifts & More!
1804 Pembroke Rd. • Greensboro, NC 27408 (Behind Irving Park Plaza) • 336.763.7908 Mon. - Fri. 11:00am - 5:30pm • Sat. 11:00am - 4:00pm www.serendipitybyceleste.com
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Patricia Bell-Scott, Lea Williams
Nicole & Deric Hayes
Friends of the Greensboro Public Library 2019 Annual Luncheon featuring Patricia Bell-Scott Tuesday, April 16, 2019 Photographs by Lynn Donovan
Margaret Benjamin, Ann Hedges
Lynn Wooten, Joan Gregory, Lynette Wrenn, Ruthie McLeod, Virginia Achey, Eileen Silber, Florence Galten, Garrett Saake
Brigitte Blanton, Steve Sumerford, Beth Sheffield
Dr. Valerie Ann Johnson, Arielle Howton, Penny Speas
Marion & Gary Hosey
Natalyn Williams, Carolyn Flowers
Steve Sumerford, Patricia Bell-Scott, Evelyn Smith
Erica Rain Whilhite, Barbara & Paul Stewart
Bob Saunders, Andrew Sapinhour, Russ Robinson
Treana Bowling, Cissy Parham
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Michelle Bening, Ruth Spaulding, Maura Barber, Alan Weidt
Carol & Theophus Mapson
O.Henry Jazz Series O.Henry Hotel Lobby Saturday, April 27, 2019
Photographs by Lynn Donovan
Corey Abrams, Lori Knox Catherine Pressley, Lauren Pressley Candler, Steve Pressley Bob & Gale Byers, Dan Donovan, Sara & Chris Sandburg
Dave Fox, Matt Kendrick, Sarah Whittlemore, Neill Clegg Jude & Karyn Dickerson
Daryl K & Karen Johnson
Libby & Tim Gwennap
Kathleen Bates, Jackie Coates, June Monge, Fred & Jean Coates
Cathryn Davis, Julia Warren, Hannah Pomphrey
Six & Bruce Salas
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Savor Luxury in Irving Park 1816 SAINT ANDREWS ROAD, GREENSBORO, NC 27408 Vive la cuisine! Irving Park home with 5 BRs, 6.5 baths and a living room you can cook in. The chef’s kitchen with pantry and breakfast area overlooks a private back yard and is perfect for your summer soirée.
Chesnutt - Tisdale Team
Xan Tisdale 336-601-2337
Kay Chesnutt 336-202-9687
Xan.Tisdale@bhhsyostandlittle.com Kay.Chesnutt@bhhsyostandlittle.com Lea.Beuchler@bhhsyostandlittle.com
Lea Beuchler 336-207-4859
©2019 BHH Affiliates, LLC. An independently operated subsidiary of HomeServices of America, Inc., a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, and a franchisee of BHH Affiliates, LLC. Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices and the Berkshire Hathaway HomeServices symbol are registered service marks of HomeServices of America, Inc.® Equal Housing Opportunity.
Summertime, summertime, sum sum, summertime Habitat • Alembika Cut Loose • Prairie Cotton Iguana • Parsley and Sage Luukaa • Grizas • Kleen Comfy USA • Chalet Cheyenne • Heartstring Et’ Lois • Oh My Gauze!
Sizes: 1X, 2X, & 3X
Vera’s Threads Sizes: S,M, L & XL
Hours: M-F 11-6, Sat 11-5 2274 Golden Gate Drive Golden Gate Shopping Center Greensboro, NC
www.linneasboutique.com The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Antiques & Home Decor
Monday-Friday 10:00-5:30 • Saturday 10:00-5:00 CLOSED SUNDAYS FOR THE SUMMER
2214 Golden Gate Drive • Greensboro, NC
Unique Shoes! Beautiful Clothes!! Artisan Jewelry!!! Shoes Sizes 6 - 11 • Clothes Sizes S - XXL
507 State Street, Greensboro NC 27405 336-275-7645 • Mon - Sat 11am - 6pm www.LilloBella.com
The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Whoa Is Me!
The Accidental Astrologer
And you, too, with this month’s alignment of Jupiter in idealistic Sadge and foggy Neptune in Pisces By Astrid Stellanova
We’ve seen our share of cosmic conniption fits, Star
Children, but just remember that half of 2019 is already over. And astrological rarities keep coming. The Arietids are on June 7, and on June 18, there’s an unusual alignment when Jupiter in Sagittarius meets Neptune in Pisces at 90 degrees. If all that means zip to you, consider that the alignment hasn’t happened in 13 years, since 2006. But this year it happens three times — the next time is on November 8. Circle that on your Day-Timers, Sweet Peas. Some seers say this planetary dust-up pits idealism (yep, thanks to Neptune) against ideologies (Sagittarius). Bottom line? Pay attention to excesses. Rein in your appetites and sit tall in the saddle. But especially, just hold your horses.
Gemini (May 21–June 20) Hot balls of fire, you may be twitchier than Jerry Lee Lewis. But the soundtrack to your life is more like that song, “Same Trailer, Different Park.” If that ain’t a song, well then it should be, given how you Geminis are wrestling with lots of energy and no place to put it. Good works, my Twins, might just make you do something with that nutsy energy. Cancer (June 21–July 22) Honey, you have been getting waaaay too intense. Like, you are 50 shades of black and white. If your saga gets any more black and white, somebody needs to take a brush to your head and start painting your life in rainbow colors. Nothing in life is this cut and dried. Leo (July 23–August 22) Like sweet little Sally Struthers says, save them jagwires, Darlin! Or pick an animal that will make your heart bleed. She’s always saving something, and you got to love her for it. But there is a part of you, little Lion Heart, that needs rescuing. It is possible you have a lot more at risk than you like to show. Virgo (August 23–September 22) Yes, you have got some talent and you have got plenty of desire to take center stage and blow away the competition. Breaking wind is not a musical event, Sugar. When you put in the work to compete, everybody and his brother will be calling. Libra (September 23–October 22) How do you even walk when you keep one foot in your mouth? It was just that bad when you marched into a situation with all the sensitivity of Bigfoot at Cracker Barrel. Next time you open your pie hole, fill it with a big ole slice of double chocolate fudge Co’ Cola Cake. Scorpio (October 23–November 21) Oh, yes, Honey, you got some axes to grind and you could split some skulls right about now. Thinking of something nice to say about your exes is like trying to divide by zero. But pull in your horns, ’cause they are about to dive into a tripwire. The Art & Soul of Greensboro
Sagittarius (November 22–December 21) Honey, stopped in your tracks, you been grounded like fog closing in on an airport. Frustration ain’t even a big enough word for it. If there was ever a time for you to stop, chill out and go inside, it’s N-O-W. It will save you a whole lot of struggle next month. Capricorn (December 22–January 19) That silver-tongued devil you like couldn’t be trusted if his tongue had a notary seal on it. Gets you every time. Right about now is a good time to politely walk back on plans you made together. Just give it a week to cool off before signing up. Aquarius (January 20–February 18) You got a backbone. But where is your funny bone? If you want to have a happy life, Sugar, you will have to find what is hilarious in the not so good, and what is at least worth a smile in the hardest times. There lies the greatest strength. Pisces (February 19–March 20) That bottle of lightning may or may not be the cure for what ails you. When somebody says grab it while you can, you may have just been had, Honey. And when you open the lid on that bottle, it may just be more hot air. They can keep it. Aries (March 21–April 19) You feel like a dog without a tail, which is a doggone shame because this month you will have reason to wag it. In the run-up to the wag-worthy time ahead, you are going to have to overcome some big barkers who suck the oxygen away. Taurus (April 20–May 20) Did you mean to plow that same row twice? Sugar, you were as nervous as a cheerleader at the prison football game. That is not you; you’re off your game but if you can focus, find your mark and breathe, you are set to take the prize on home. OH For years, Astrid Stellanova owned and operated Curl Up and Dye Beauty Salon in the boondocks of North Carolina until arthritic fingers and her popular astrological readings provoked a new career path. June 2019
Sweet memories of the most creative home chef who ever lived
I was 16 by the time I
appreciated what an incredible cook my mother was — thanks to the woman who would become my own personal chef.
“Duck sandwiches?” Anne responded incredulously when I told her what we were having for our picnic lunch, which also happened to be our first date. “Yeah, and deviled eggs with watermelon-rind pickles and Mom’s chocolate chess pie for dessert,” I went on. In truth, I worried the repast might be a bit scant. Mom often fried chicken for picnics and packed her signature country ham biscuits, plus, if you were really lucky, homemade pimiento cheese sandwiches. Not to worry. My mother’s sister, Rachel, had also packed a picnic for our double-date, my cousin Bill and his girlfriend, Mary. She’d rustled up some of her tangy sweet-andsour German potato salad laced with smoked side meat. Like Mom, Rachel blended lessons learned from her Pennsylvania Dutch upbringing with what she knew we Southerners loved. Add some of her simple but simply delicious sugar cookies, and our picnic made a pretty decent feed. (And yet, I remember the sweetest treat of all was that kiss I stole underneath the cotton blanket we tented over our heads against the rain.) I now realize that my mother — and excuse me for expressing what may be a painful truth to you — was a way better cook than anyone else’s. Look back on your own youth. Did your mom ever cook you duck à l’orange or Indian curry served with homemade chutney? OK, so maybe she did, but was she also able to Southern-fry chicken so crisp that it was a shame to smother it in milk gravy? And did your mom also wrap quail in bacon and stuff them with chestnuts and mushrooms? Was every single meal she served accompanied by some form of hot bread, plus a homemade dessert? Did you — and do you still — regularly dream about your mom’s cooking? Other cooks may shine at the holidays — and Mother’s sweet potatoes with black walnuts, her shoo-fly pie and her whole baked country ham or goose were by no means shabby. But what my mother excelled at was cooking every dish day-after-day with the utmost creativity and care. Greek meatloaf she’d seen in a magazine. Deep-fat-fried zucchini or okra. Exotic specialties like borscht that she’d plucked from her beloved 12-volume Woman’s Day Encyclopedia (A set I still cherish and use frequently). As my wife once remarked with amazement after experiencing a typical fresh-from-the-garden summer lunch of freshly picked corn on the cob, green beans tangled with bacon, fresh sliced tomatoes, cracklin’ cornbread, plus
some leftover pork chops, “Every meal at your house is an event.” My parents were foodies way before that word had any currency. My cousins would come and peer in wonder into our cupboard containing olives, pâté, anchovies, capers, four or five types of mustard, even caviar on occasion. Dad was a Belk store manager who traveled to New York City regularly and brought home shopping bags of pastrami, pickles and smoked fish, along with epic tales of lobster dinners and elaborate, multicourse Chinese feasts, which Mom would replicate, like his favorite, angels-on-horseback (oysters wrapped with bacon and broiled with onions and hoisin sauce). She fully embraced the ’50s hot trend of cooking what was then termed international or gourmet food, but she never abandoned the comfort food she — and Daddy — grew up eating on the farms they were raised on during the Depression — chicken-fried steak, sauerbraten, buckwheat cakes, chicken and dumplings, cider-braised rabbit and apples, all served with a heaping helping of their tradition, passed on from her mother and grandmother. But her real creativity came into play with leftovers. As she would be piling bowls from the fridge onto the counter, my sister would say, “Uh oh, time for must-go soup.” Quoting my grandmother, Mom would counter, “Better bad belly burst than good food waste.” Roast beef hash. Spicy gumbo from leftover okra and other vegetables. Stuffed baked potatoes or green peppers. And her pièce de résistance: schnitz un knepp from leftover ham paired with apples and dumplings. Mom was not a demonstrative person. She wasn’t huggy, and even her filial kisses might be termed polite and correct. She said, “I love you” to each of us regularly, but with just a tad of awkwardness. This despite the fact that she was a hopeless romantic who gobbled up Hemingway, Fitzgerald and massive Russian novels one after another. Dad would finish his favorite dessert, mopping up one of Mom’s fluffy biscuits in a slurry of molasses, give a satisfied groan, push his chair away from the table and say, “Aren’t we glad we married her,” maybe the most affectionate thing I ever heard him say to Mom. “Nothing says lovin’ like something from the oven,” the Pillsbury Doughboy used to say, and Mom’s cooking said it best. OH O.Henry’s Contributing Editor David Claude Bailey learned to cook late in life at Print Works Bistro after working his way up from dishwasher to backline chef: cueconfessions.wordpress.com/2009/04/ The Art & Soul of Greensboro
ILLUSTRATION BY HARRY BLAIR
By David C. Bailey
40 YEARS C E L E B R AT I N G
Sunday Evening in the Park
F R E E A D M I S S I O N — J O I N U S F O R G R E E N S B O R O ’ S 4 0 YE A R M U S I C A L T R A D I T I O N ! We are excited to partner with the Greensboro Coliseum for this concert to kick off our 40th season! Parking is free. Picnics, chairs, blankets, and dogs are welcome at this event. Food and drinks will also be available for purchase.
Gate City Divas
7:15 pm David Childers and the Serpents
JUNE 9 JUNE 16 JUNE 23 JULY 4 JULY 7 JULY 14 JULY 21 JULY 28 AUGUST 4 AUGUST 11
6:30 pm Philharmonia of Greensboro 6 pm
7:15 pm The Radials
Singer, Songwriter Swing, Jazz Classical, Pops Bluegrass, Americana Americana, Country
Fun Fourth Concert Greensboro Concert Band
Smitty & the Jumpstarters
7:15 pm Rob Massengale Band Eastern Music Festival
6:30 pm Young Artists Wind Ensemble 6 pm
Piedmont Triad Jazz Orchestra Playing two 45 minute sets
7:15 pm Sam Frazier & the Side Effects 6 pm
7:15 pm West End Mambo 6:30 pm Greensboro Concert Band 6 pm
Greensboro Big Band Playing two 45 minute sets
Wonderwall The Tribute
7:15 pm doby
Variety, Rock & Roll Classical, Pops Jazz Classic Rock to Pop Songwriter, Americana Blues, R&B, Jazz, Soul Latin Classical, Pops Beatles Cover Band Funk
White Oak Amphitheatre 2411 W. Gate City Blvd. Greensboro College 815 W. Market St. • Front Lawn (facing W. Market St.) Barber Park 1500 Barber Park Dr. Lindley Park Starmount Dr. at W. Market St. & Wendover Ave. LeBauer Park 208 N. Davie St. Hester Park 3906 Betula St. LeBauer Park 208 N. Davie St. Guilford College Founders Lawn 5800 W. Friendly Ave. Country Park, Shelter 7 3905 Nathanael Greene Dr.
Park in the Jaycee Parking Lot
Gateway Gardens 2924 E. Gate City Blvd. Lindley Park Starmount Dr. at W. Market St. & Wendover Ave. Latham Park W. Wendover Ave. at Latham Rd. & Cridland Rd.
This concert made possible by the generous support and sponsorship of UNC Greensboro.
Wally West Little Big Band Playing two 45 minute sets
Blandwood Mansion 447 W. Washington St.
For cancellation information, call 336-373-2549. Please note: All dogs must be on a leash.
Thank you to our
Presented In Conjunction with the Eastern Music Festival