Don't read this if you're hungry

Here's something yummy for a winter's day. Something that will stick to your ribs and make you feel warm and happy inside.

But if you're thinking that you're starting to get hungry, don't click the "read more" thingie. Why torture yourself?

Squilla, I'm talking to you, my friend. I saw what you wrote about yesterday. I know what you're thinking. So don't click the "read more." Don't. Fair warning.

OK, you asked for it.



Mmmmm. To explain, Squilla wrote about pasties and her obsession with them yesterday. I happened to read her post while I was at lunch. And guess what was on my desk?

Half of a pasty. (The other half had just been consumed.) A warm, tasty pasty on a winter day.

It just so happens that Monday is production day, when we're putting the paper together and doing our computerized layout, so there are 1,001 (by actual count) things you have to remember, and time is tight and you don't want to take much of a break for lunch. Our office is on the western edge of town, and there is just one place for lunch within walking distance--a pasty shop, located next door.

So I walked out, got one, went back, opened efx2 and read what Squilla wrote about pasties. She wrote about their variety over in England.

Over here, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, pasties have been part of the landscape for as long as whites have lived here (a little over a century--notice that I didn't say anything about "civilized" or "was settled"?). Our pasties are fairly standard--diced potatoes and "pasty meat" and a few onions inside. Some add rutabagas (pronounced ROO-ta-beggies in our vernacular), but I stay with the standard.

The Cornish miners--the "Cousin Jacks"--brought the recipe for pasties with them when they emigrated here early in the 20th century, taking their pasties with them into the underground mines that led to the "settlement" of this region. The other nationalities who worked here--mainly Poles, French, Italians--picked up on it. Pasties stayed warm for a long time and were handy to eat.

To date, there are many places in lower Michigan that claim to have pasties for homesick Yoopers. But you have to head for the western U.P. to get the real stuff. Most of the small cities in this region have at least one pasty place. Ours happens to be right next door. Happy coincidence!

Our pasty place offers a "breakfast" pasty on Tuesdays and a "pizza" pasty on Wednesdays. Haven't had a breakfast pasty yet, but the pizza pasties are yummy. You know how I get along with pizza.

To paraphrase Homer Simpson: "Mmmmmm! Pasties!"