State Fairs are often an afterthought. A relic of times past when most of us lived in rural areas and guessing the weight of a pumpkin was the best entertainment of the month. They offer variations on the same rides, foods and entertainment that you find at your local Memorial Day Carnival or County Fair and, I mean, how many people even go to those? But the Minnesota State Fair is so far from an afterthought that it seems to be on the minds of Minnesotans for the 50 weeks of the year in which it is not in operation. Plans are made, new foods are devised and longed after; then, just like that, it’s over again. This year, however, the Unvegan paid a visit to see how it would all stack up.

Swedish Meatball Smorgas – The Blue Barn

It’s not all about gluttony. Sometimes it’s just about doing something no one ever thought of. Like putting Swedish meatballs on a roll, pouring white gravy all over them and then topping them with lingonberry jam and dill pickles. I was smart enough to order without the pickles and it paid off in pure sweet, salty and savory deliciousness.

Mangonada Shave Ice – Minnesnowii Shave Ice

You wouldn’t think Minnesotans would be fans of shave ice since they live among it for so much of the year. Yet, the Mangonada is real and it is fascinating. Packed with mango syrup, drizzles of chamoy sauce, popping boba (for some inexplicably genius reason), spicy tajin powder and a tamarind straw (for some inexplicably strange reason). The straw was useless, but the rest of this was somehow light, refreshing, hearty and spicy at once. And with all that, it just somehow worked.

Giant Juicy Turkey Sandwich – Turkey To Go

Being a first timer, I couldn’t just go with new stuff. And, frankly, I wasn’t too excited about getting a turkey sandwich. But, my buddy told me it was well worth it and, well, it sure was. I added bacon and a sweet glaze to mine and it was unbelievably juicy for what’s generally the driest fowl of all. As I drove past many a wild turkey in the Northwoods, all I could think about was how juicy they could be in sandwich form.

Blu – Grain Belt

I love blueberries and I love beer. It makes sense that I would like a blueberry beer, right? Wrong. It seems to be that the special beers at the Minnesota State Fair are pretty much all sweet, but this took that sweetness way beyond balance and into juice territory. Good thing I had all kinds of savory and salty foods to counter that sweetness (and don’t worry, I still drank the whole damn thing).

Gizmo – Carl’s

The Gizmo is another classic, and yet it is churned out by pretty much the most nondescript cart in the whole fair. Sometimes you just know you’re good and it’s hard to go bad when you are an Italian roll filled with ground beef, Italian sausage, red sauce and a layer of melted mozzarella cheese to seal all of the goodness in.

Sweet Greek Cheese Puffs – Dino’s Gyros

Ricotta and Feta. Flaky phyllo dough. Powdered sugar. More than a drizzle of honey. I am a many who loves his sweet and salty combos and these Sweet Greek Cheese Puffs did more than satisfy that craving. It may have gotten a but too sweet toward the end when the honey congregated in the corner with the remaining puff, but these were a treat.

Zesty PB&J Sausage – Gass Station Grill

It doesn’t sound right. Nope, not at all. But if you’ve been paying attention to burger places lately, mixing peanut butter, jelly and some sort of spiciness is all the rage. It’s only natural that it made its way into a tube steak. While each bite may have been somewhat inconsistent, there is no doubt that this works. If they can get that peanut buttery and jelly-y goodness more evenly distributed, this sausage could take over the world.

Turducken Sausage – Giggles’ Campfire Grill

Not all sausages are created equal. Or is it something about the size of the sausage versus what you do with it? Regardless, the Turducken sausage didn’t just lose the battle of the sausages, it barely seemed to fight. It was too tightly packed, the grind seemed off and really all I could taste was the turkey, with maybe a touch of chicken. Perhaps in years past this may have flown, but in the world of the Zesty PB&J sausage you have to be oh so much better than this.

Passion Fruit Pilsner – Bent Paddle Brewing

Duluth is a cool city. And it sent a pretty cool beer down to the state fair. It’s not a sour per se, but does it’s best to harness the tartness of passion fruit and churns out a pretty unique pilsner that is not too sweet and not too sour. It’s not just right either, but it’s good enough to make the drinking enjoyable.

Bacon-Wrapped Pork Belly – The Hangar

You don’t go to the state fair looking to eat a balanced meal. But nowhere is that lack of balance more exemplified than in this pork on pork action on a stick. It was so unbelievably juicy, smokey and salty forcing the use of dozens of napkins lest your face runneth with juices that would later congeal into something resembling a wax museum. While this may be perfection in meat form, the critic in me did wish there was some sort of a sweet and acidic dipping sauce like apple cider vinaigrette or a cherry reduction to accompany this meaty concoction. Despite that, the universe seemed to pause in recognition of the beauty of each bite of this masterpiece.

Fried Cheese Curds – Everywhere

Some day I’d like to pull an Andrew Zimmern and try every cheese curd purveyor at the fair. Until that day, I am a satisfied man as long as the place knows to stick with the white variety of cheddar, to fry them just right amount of time to maintain the squeakiness and to only lightly batter them lest the batter overpower the cheese. It’s not the tallest order, but it’s not the easiest one to fulfill either. Plus, when you’re coming from Arizona all cheese curds are good cheese curds.

Whelp. That’s a wrap. The pilgrimage is complete. Now if only I can figure out a way to make this an annual thing…or at least get to Iowa somehow…

Loyal readers may know that this food blog adheres to an almost exception-free policy of not re-reviewing restaurants. First impressions are the most important impressions and that is why this unwritten policy is in place. However, when a restaurant innovates or completely reworks a menu, they could be considered for another feature on the Unvegan. Typically, this has been relegated to Taco Bell, but another faux-Mexican restaurant called Mad Mex is continuing that trend. Namely, this innovation is called The Gobblerito and it means Thanksgiving in a tortilla.

You see, The Gobblerito is an item that only appears on the Mad Mex menu around the Thanksgiving season and then it goes away, leaving a hole the size of a Thanksgiving turkey inside those fortunate enough to have tried it. It comes packed with turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and corn, then is topped with gravy and served with a side of cranberry sauce. Essentially it is what an x-ray of my stomach after Thanksgiving dinner would reveal. As you may recall, the Mad Mex burritos come in strange cubic form and The Gobblerito is no different.

In just a few bites, I was thrown back to a time when I first tried The Bobby at Capriotti’s and realized there was true good in this world. The Gobblerito is absolutely at the level of The Bobby and this status is only bolstered by the brevity of its existence every year. The only downside was the weird “garnish” of lettuce strewn in one small area of the plate just large enough to interact with some of the gravy. Fortunately for Mad Mex and The Gobblerito, it was easy to avoid.

So what are you waiting for? Thanksgiving is fast approaching and you do not want to miss your chance to taste the burrito of tryptophan-induced dreams.

I know what I’ll be thankful for come Thursday.

Many of you out there have wondered whether a fictional character can be an Unvegan Hero and I am finally ready to answer that question with a resounding, “Yes!” But it isn’t easy – unless you’re Ron Swanson.

That’s right, the mustachioed genius from Parks and Recreation has finally achieved the rank of Unvegan Hero, and all it took was a little thing called a hamburger. In case you ever wondered what a hamburger means to Ron Swanson, the Parks and Rec website has your answer: Some meat and a bun. Need directions? “Grill the meat then put it on a bun. Eat it with your mouth, so that it goes into your belly. Repeat.” A simple recipe for a complex man.

But it takes more than that to become an Unvegan Hero. In reference to the lesser meat-burger known as a turkey burger, Ron Swanson asked, “Is that a fried turkey leg inside a grilled hamburger?” Could you imagine such a thing? Well, Eater.com made one and it looks amazing, because nothing beats meat on meat. Ooh that should be my new catch phrase. But I digress. Ron Swanson is awesome.

Although Thanksgiving is still a couple of days away, I’m already hungry for some Turkey. Luckily, Gayle’s BBQ sent me some of her BBQ sauces and a recipe for some turkey meatballs for free. Since I’m more of an eater than a cooker, I left my girlfriend to follow the recipe and make me some meatballs.

The result was turkey meatballs done three ways. The sauces used were Gayle’s Original Sweet ‘N’ Sassy BBQ sauce, Chipotle Sauce and Apple Cider Smoke

Sauce. I began eating and my mouth met with an angry meatball inhabitant known as onions. I’m not sure why Gayle thought it was necessary to put onions in meatballs, and I was even further disappointed that my own girlfriend would have followed the recipe so closely that she would ignore my unvegan needs.

With onions in my meatballs, it would be impossible to give Gayle’s a good review, but that is mostly her fault for deciding something so pure and wonderful like meatballs would need something as awful as a vegetable. Of the flavors, Chipotle was definitely my favorite. The Apple Cider Smoke tasted like Original, and neither were particularly great. Sure, they were fine sauces, but they didn’t blow me away. The Chipotle, on the other hand, had the perfect amount of spice for a BBQ sauce, ensuring the eater that they are consuming something spicy without sending them running for water. If I want to set my mouth on fire, I’ll buy Buffalo sauce, so Gayle did a good job of keeping within the right heat level.

Next time, though, I’m gonna need a recipe that doesn’t call for the needless destruction of vegetable life.

Over at the Pico-Robertson area is Factor’s Deli, a Jewish-style deli with delivery! Sometimes I wonder why more restaurants don’t deliver, but luckily I don’t need to wonder about that for Factor’s.

For some reason, I wasn’t in the mood for pastrami, so it took some time to figure out what I wanted to order. Eventually, I found the multi-meaty sandwich to conquer my hunger. This was the combination sandwich entitled No. 1, featuring turkey, corned beef and swiss cheese to ensure that it is un-Kosher. It also had Russian dressing and was served on triple-layer rye bread. As a bonus, it also came with a choice of two sides, so I chose the unhealthiest of all, fries and homemade chips.

About 45 minutes later, the meal was delivered. I unpacked the brown bag excitedly, looking forward to my meatwich. What I found was beyond my expectations, the sandwich was stacked gigantically with meat, so much so that it took at least two bites to take out a vertical chunk. The only downside to the sandwich was that the corned beef was a bit fattier than I prefer. I guess not everyone can deliver awesome lean corned beef like Deli Unique.

The side dishes were pretty good as well, and all the elements compounded into a meal that I couldn’t finish in one sitting. At first the price tag of $15.95 seemed a bit pricey, but for a single meal that became two, I couldn’t complain.

Cigarette bread is a mysterious food that was first served to me at the Ban Ban Cave Restaurant in Cappadocia. Considering how many cigarettes Turkish people smoke everyday, I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone told me cigarette bread was just a new way they found to ingest tobacco. For all I knew, it could have been bread wrapped around an actual cigarette. I bit in with immense curiosity and found it to just a thin shell of bread, wrapped around ricotta cheese and fried. This is probably only slightly healthier than actual cigarettes. It quickly became one of my favorite dishes in Turkey.

Turkey also offered up some pretty good meatballs, but the chefs always found the need to garnish the plates with some sort of vegetable or salad. I could ignore this and assume something was lost in translation on the menu, but always felt bad about the poor, defenseless vegetables that had to die for my sake. The best meatballs I had were from Pasha Restaurant in Sulanahmet, Istanbul. I also had meatballs at the “Rug Collective” in Selcuk, which my wonderful guide took me to. This was quite an interesting situation. Not only was I served food, but was also given some great information on rugs and the chance to buy them at a pretty good price (scam?). There was no pressure to buy, however, and I found myself very contented with the meal I was digesting while viewing rugs. In general, though, I found a lot of dishes better than the Turkish meatballs.

Although Turkey has it’s own pizza-like dish in pide, they also make pizza the old-fashioned way. While waiting for a bus in Urgup, Cappadocia, someone recommended that we go to the Sukurogullari Pastanesi and told me the pizza was pretty good. Indeed, as I checked out the menu, it did look quite tasty. The menu said it came with pepperoni, onions, corn, two kinds of salami (TWO!) and red peppers. I was amazed that in a country thain which no one eats pork, they were able to not only make one kind of salami, but two, and then make pepperoni! I ordered mine without onions or red peppers. When it came, my jaw dropped in disgust. My pizza was speckled with olives, of the black and green variety. Why had someone let such awful earthly products destroy the joyful salami occasion? At least have the decency to warn me! My anger was of no avail, as my waiter spoke no English, and I was left to remove my olives on my own. The meats were pretty good, but did little to quell my olive-induced fury. That was the first and last pizza I would order in Turkey.

In the frozen wasteland of Cappadocia, the man running my cave hotel recommended a restaurant close by, called Orient. It was a short trek, but froth with difficulties like ice and snow. After a few slips and close brushes with icy death, I made it inside.

I checked out the menu, remembering that the guy at my cave had recommended the steak. After a short glance, I found the “Minute Steak.” The name wasn’t terribly specific and I wondered what it could possibly mean. Did it take a minute to cook? A minute to eat? Maybe it was minute in the sense of being small? Perhaps it was Turkey’s version of Minute Maid? My curiosity got the best of me and I ordered.

A minute went by. Then another minute. I guess my first question was a resounding NO. In fact it took almost 30 minutes to arrive and I quickly saw that it was neither minute in size, nor would it take a minute to eat. I cut in and started eating, it tasted meh. I finished half, then discovered that the second half was virtually unslice-able and almost twice as thick as the first half. Perhaps they had taken a minute to thaw the steak before beginning to cook it, resulting in the name. Either way, I was disappointed, but not nearly as disappointed as I was in the salad on my plate. For even though it was difficult to eat the steak, at least it was meat and not green.

For unexplained reasons, the restaurant ended up giving our table a free platter of fruit and free postcards showing what Cappadocia looks like in brighter, less wintery times.  These made me very happy, but not happy enough to forget the steak. Next time I’ll get some chicken.

Before I left for Turkey, a friend of mine told me I had to go to a restaurant called Doy Doy in Istanbul. Since he hadn’t been to Turkey in a couple years, I took him seriously. It’s not often that someone remembers the name of a restaurant they went to in a foreign country while traveling the world, even one with a name so memorable as Doy Doy.

I was told that I could find Doy Doy behind the Blue Mosque, which isn’t exactly a small building. In fact, it’s hard just to tell what the front of the mosque is, let alone the back. I encircled the building before I found a cobblestone street that I hoped would lead me to Doy Doy. I rounded a corner, and there in bright yellow stood a building with a sign reading Doy Doy. I finally made it, but would it live up to the expectations?

As I gazed at the menu, everything looked glorious. I had a hard time deciding what I wanted until I found the Doy Doy Mixed Plate, a smattering of just about everything meaty the chef could cook. I asked whether there were any vegetables and the waiter replied, “salad.” I asked for it without that nasty pile of greens, and soon enough the stack of meaty happiness arrived.

I set to work in unveiling the edible Jenga puzzle set in front of me. On top, I found two rolls of fresh-baked pita. As I lifted them up, I discovered two pieces of pide, one covered in a tasty minced meat and the other with cheese. Removing these revealed the beautiful underworld of the Doy Doy Mixed Plate. I saw lamb and beef meatballs, a chicken wing, seasoned rice, a single lamb chop, chicken and beef kebaps and a grand dollop of yogurt. The beauty was only slightly tarnished when I glanced at a couple of grilled tomatoes and rapidly removed them from the plate.

I quickly went to work on food, mixing and matching different meats with pita, pide, yogurt and rice. The end result was a stomach filled to the brim and a great smile on my face that made me forget completely about the dastardly tomatoes that had once squatted on my plate. If you ever find yourself in Istanbul, Doy Doy is a must. The price is great (about $10) and the food will not let you down.

Spelling, though, is not the only difference in perception of kebabs that I have with Turkey. I have also always been under the impression that kebaps are pretty much just foods grilled on sticks. Again, Turkey proved me wrong…twice!

The first strange kebap I had was the “Pottery Kebap.” This was in the Uranus Cave Restaurant in Cappadocia, which was a stop on my guided tour. Before delving into this mysterious kebap, I’d like to go off on an unvegan tangent. Anyone who says it’s difficult to travel as a vegetarian is a bold-faced liar. In all my traveling, on all the tours I’ve been on, the guide always makes sure to ask if anyone is a vegetarian. This was no different in Turkey. Before arriving at the cave, my guide asked about vegetarians, but made no effort to accommodate unvegans. As such, I was stuck praying that the meal I was about to get would be fit for an unvegan such as myself.

When we got in the cave, the guide began to explain the Pottery Kebap. It is essentially a large pot that is sealed and put into an oven for an extended period of time. Essentially, it’s a Turkish crock pot. When they popped open the pot, I was delighted to find that there was meat involved. Unfortunately, there were also scores of unidentified green objects (UGOs). The meat itself was beef and quite good, if not a little bland. Unfortunately, the meat was outnumbered by the UGOs, leaving me with little to eat beyond a few pieces of meat, rice and bread.

The next interesting kebap I experienced was in Sultanahmet in Istanbul. A place named Backpackers was recommended to me, so I figured I would check it out. What I found was a cozy little restaurant with Ottoman-style floor seating, which catered to tourists. No problem for me, as long as it was good. I found it funny that on the main menu they were called Backpackers, but on the drink menu, it said “Backbeackers.” What an interesting little typo…They didn’t just simply mistake P for B, but they also stuck an E in there, although I suppose it’s better than the other options, “Backpeckers” and “Backbackers.”

Anyway, after perusing the menu, I found the Iskender Kebap, which is lamb, yogurt, tomato sauce and pita, all in one. When it came, I found that all the goodness of the listed ingredients had been bookended by two green peppers. I quickly did away with these and started consuming the meat that was slowly drowning in a sea of yogurt. The mix of flavors was quite interesting and difficult to explain, except to say that it was pretty good. Backbeackers didn’t let me down, although I wonder how much better it would have been if I were off the tourist track…

Eating something called Turkish Pizza really seems like a misnomer to me. I’m not sure if it is Turkey’s take on pizza, or perhaps they found that calling it Turkish Pizza makes it more approachable for visitors who may not have ever heard of “pide”. Either way, my first pide looked nothing at all like pizza. I got it at the Karadeniz Aile Pide & Kebap Sofrasi in the Sultanahmet district of Istanbul. It was called the pide with spicy meat pieces and the waiter told me the meat was beef. When it came, it looked more like a calzone than a pizza, and true to it’s word, it was full of meat pieces. The pieces, however, were not spicy, as I think they meant to write “spiced meat pieces.” Regardless, it was delicious and made me want more.

My next Pide came in the Taksim area of Istanbul. Looking to add more variety to my pide, I went with the mix pide. Sadly, the waiter couldn’t understand English too well, so I took a vegetable chance. My chance only partly paid off. I got the variety I wanted, but at a cost. One third of my pide was covered with tiny little tomatoes and red and green peppers. After ten minutes of furious veggie-picking, I managed to clear off as many of the little horrors as I could. Fortunately, the mix pide sanctioned off each section so that only part of it was tainted. The other two sections were mostly clean. One had some sort of a minced mystery meat while the other had cheese and Turkey’s version of pepperoni (which most certainly was not made of pork). In the end, the mix pide was good, but not worth the effort that went into devegetating it.

My last pide was also at a restaurant in Sultanahmet. I have to give this restaurant props because my friends were able to

convince the place to give me a free beer, but I am sad to say that I cannot recall the name of the restaurant. Suffice to say, if you go to a restaurant in Sultanahmet and tell them that another restaurant promised you a free beer, you have a good chance of getting it. I settled down and found a pide offering I had never seen before, with chicken and cheese! But also with mushrooms…ewww. Being back in tourist-land, I asked for it without mushrooms and hoped that the poor Turkish man understood me. As luck would have it, he had managed to filter through my poor English and ensured that my pide came mushroom-free. I delightfully ate my last pide and washed it down with my free beer.

I found the pide to be a great dish that one should not leave Turkey without trying at least once. It’s quite dissimilar to an actual pizza and can be easily adapted to the needs of an unvegan.